Chapter 57

13:30 Christmas Day, 1991

139 Meadow Ln

Novato, CA 94947

It's been a pretty good Christmas, Lenore thought. A lot less of the usual fighting in the Collins household. Maybe we're all growing up? Maybe, she decided, it's because of all the guests – we all like them and none of us want to behave badly. I guess that's growing up.

Ben and Dillon had gotten into a good-natured argument about which training was tougher, and Lenore came down heavily on Dillon's side. "Ben," she said, "I've seen what they do to those boys on a public beach. It's cruel, and it's designed to break the spirit. The ones that make it through all that ... they can count on to be stone-reliable. Fast-roping and obstacle courses and ten-kay runs with gear on is over in a day. Those guys are cold and miserable for months."

Ben gave her a strange look, one with a little respect, and asked her if she'd go through what the men did. "In a heartbeat," she answered, "but they won't let me."

Dillon and Lenore left Ben thinking, she saw. I still want to know what the hell Chief Kostowe did for you when I said you were having trouble, Ben, but I can't just come out and ask.

Robert and Lynne had come up for air, Lenore saw, for the first time in days they'd left the bedroom for more than meals. Lynne had confided before the weekend that she didn't care how sore she was, she and Robert were going to spend every possible minute in bed, and so far it looked like she was succeeding.

Deb and the Hardings had combined their gift for Lenore, a brass sextant, compass, and telescope set in a velvet-lined oak case with a glass top. "Lenore, someday this will be the centerpiece of your cabin," Barbara told her. Lenore hugged the three of them, her eyes bright.

"I didn't get anything for you guys," she said.

"What were your grades this semester?" Harry asked the question, smiling.

"Straight-A's," Lenore said proudly.

"Then that's good enough," he replied, just as proudly.

"Gunny," she said later, as they stood on the deck overlooking the trellises stretching up the hillside, "I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. This is like a fairytale Christmas."

"Shh," he rumbled, as she turned to him and pressed her face between his chin and collarbone. "It's a ... what do you call it? An interlude, I think for all of us, and we're all pretty grateful for it. Thanksgiving wasn't ... Don't look the gift horse in the mouth. Next year will probably make up for it," and she heard the amusement in his voice.

"Gunny, I love you," she told him.

Later, after the roast that Harry and Barb had brought over the day before was served, the large gathering spreading out into two other rooms to find seats for all, there was more gift-giving.

Kate handed Lenore a Federal Express box, from an address in Harwood, Maryland, and when Lenore opened it, it held a framed 8x12 black-and-white photograph of a destroyer cutting through moderate seas, from the left quarter, bow-on. The caption read "DD 951 USS. C.Turner Joy". The photograph was older, Lenore saw, and had been signed by three men, using now outdated rank abbreviations: Cmdr Ralph Fales, Lt. Cmdr Paul Arvida, and Chief Jack Kostowe.

Her throat suddenly thick, Lenore sat without seeing through the blur in her eyes. A moment later, she was aware of Deb Reineau sitting by her side, crying quietly. "Why?" Lenore asked her.

Deb blotted the tears in her eyes with a tissue, and answered her honestly. "For the pilothouse on the Joy Redux. Walter Fales is a first-class horse's ass," she said, smiling through her tears, "but he can be a goddamned nice horse's ass."

05:15 Thursday, December 26^th, 1991

392 7th Ave

San Mateo, CA 94401

Lenore came through the door, and immediately smelled bacon and eggs frying, mixed with the aroma of toasting English muffins. Unsurprised, she found both Sandy and Ben making breakfast.