was finally pulling in the parking lot, but behind Hickman’s sedan. Fortunately, North led the group to parking spots in the remote section of the lot. She guessed North, too, had noticed that their arrival with the general wasn’t ideal. In fact, as Chase was making her way across the parking lot, she noticed by the red brake lights that North hadn’t yet shifted the van into park. Cruise and Martinez parked near the van, yet their doors also remained closed. They were stalling. Damn, they were good Marines, astute, always thinking.
Hickman exited his sedan. She had to admit he looked distinguished with his graying hair and the rows and rows ofcolorful ribbons on his chest. She pitied him for whatever demons he lived with, but his disdain for women in the Marines was unacceptable. She saluted as he approached. Hickman returned the salute and gave her a half smile.
The second he disappeared inside the chapel, the car doors across the parking lot flew open as if on springs. Chase choked down a laugh as North jumped out and ran around to assist the reporters from the van. Cruise and Martinez were now opening their trunks, and reporters were pulling tripods, cameras, and camera bags from all three vehicles. They were halfway across the lot when four long black limousines bearing the families rolled to a gentle stop in front of the chapel. Chase feared the media might rush the cars for photographs, but they didn’t.Instead, they walked as somberly past the limousines as Marines had been walking all morning toward the chapel. A few of the reporters darted looks toward the limousines, but most pretended not to notice at all. The closer they got to the limousines, the more the reporters fidgeted with notebooks or camera gear. Nothing like a funeral to bring out the civil side of people.
North was the first to salute. “Good morning,” Chase said to the group. “We’ve reserved an area for you with electrical support for your equipment.” She glanced at the limousines and felt a protective rush of relief that the families were still sequestered behind black glass. As she turned for the chapel, a gust of wind surprised her. She was mid-stride up the steps, reaching with one hand for the headgear that was slipping awayand losing her balance when Paul Shapiro from the Honolulu Current saved her from a fall. He grabbed her free arm and steadied her. “We’re going to have to nail you down, Captain Anderson.”
The double implication of his statement wasn’t lost on Chase, or maybe she was just feeling overly sensitive after the public attack from Hickman during the staff meeting. “Thanks, Paul,” she said, and straightened her cap before heading up the steps while North and Martinez sprinted ahead to open the double doors for her.
After the hymn Eternal Father , after the praise for Major White and the others by General Hickman, after the reassurance of God’s healing from the chaplain, after the funeral detail fired three volleys and the solobugler played Taps , and after the poignant flyover, Chase finally got a good look at Major White’s widow, Kitty. If it were true what they said about men having a type of woman they preferred, then Major White would have been the exception. Kitty was, at least physically, nothing like the woman who had shown up at the Public Affairs office. Where the mysterious woman was all dark hair and shadows, Kitty, though she was dressed head to toe in black, emanated light. She was fair-skinned and blond with the look of someone who had most likely been a cheerleader in college, the sort of preppy and together girl Chase used to envy. Kitty White was not an officer’s wife who would have left her home in jeans and a tank top.
Chase never lost sight of the woman,tiny as she was, in a crowd that seemed to surround the widow while simultaneously providing her a respectful berth. Several women who Chase recognized as officers’ wives broke from the circle to embrace Kitty. There was
Hickman exited his sedan. She had to admit he looked distinguished with his graying hair and the rows and rows ofcolorful ribbons on his chest. She pitied him for whatever demons he lived with, but his disdain for women in the Marines was unacceptable. She saluted as he approached. Hickman returned the salute and gave her a half smile.
The second he disappeared inside the chapel, the car doors across the parking lot flew open as if on springs. Chase choked down a laugh as North jumped out and ran around to assist the reporters from the van. Cruise and Martinez were now opening their trunks, and reporters were pulling tripods, cameras, and camera bags from all three vehicles. They were halfway across the lot when four long black limousines bearing the families rolled to a gentle stop in front of the chapel. Chase feared the media might rush the cars for photographs, but they didn’t.Instead, they walked as somberly past the limousines as Marines had been walking all morning toward the chapel. A few of the reporters darted looks toward the limousines, but most pretended not to notice at all. The closer they got to the limousines, the more the reporters fidgeted with notebooks or camera gear. Nothing like a funeral to bring out the civil side of people.
North was the first to salute. “Good morning,” Chase said to the group. “We’ve reserved an area for you with electrical support for your equipment.” She glanced at the limousines and felt a protective rush of relief that the families were still sequestered behind black glass. As she turned for the chapel, a gust of wind surprised her. She was mid-stride up the steps, reaching with one hand for the headgear that was slipping awayand losing her balance when Paul Shapiro from the Honolulu Current saved her from a fall. He grabbed her free arm and steadied her. “We’re going to have to nail you down, Captain Anderson.”
The double implication of his statement wasn’t lost on Chase, or maybe she was just feeling overly sensitive after the public attack from Hickman during the staff meeting. “Thanks, Paul,” she said, and straightened her cap before heading up the steps while North and Martinez sprinted ahead to open the double doors for her.
After the hymn Eternal Father , after the praise for Major White and the others by General Hickman, after the reassurance of God’s healing from the chaplain, after the funeral detail fired three volleys and the solobugler played Taps , and after the poignant flyover, Chase finally got a good look at Major White’s widow, Kitty. If it were true what they said about men having a type of woman they preferred, then Major White would have been the exception. Kitty was, at least physically, nothing like the woman who had shown up at the Public Affairs office. Where the mysterious woman was all dark hair and shadows, Kitty, though she was dressed head to toe in black, emanated light. She was fair-skinned and blond with the look of someone who had most likely been a cheerleader in college, the sort of preppy and together girl Chase used to envy. Kitty White was not an officer’s wife who would have left her home in jeans and a tank top.
Chase never lost sight of the woman,tiny as she was, in a crowd that seemed to surround the widow while simultaneously providing her a respectful berth. Several women who Chase recognized as officers’ wives broke from the circle to embrace Kitty. There was
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