salad.
Mike listened to their banter and, for a second, envied Luke. His friend had it all—the American dream, right here in this little corner of Florida. If Mike had been a different man, he might have wanted the same. But he’d never really been cut from the mold of a family man, although he’d made a halfhearted attempt at it when he’d married Jasmine. Within a few weeks, the bonds of matrimony had begun to chafe, hanging like thick chains on his neck. Mike cut his leave short, promised Jasmine he’d be back soon, and stayed away until Jenny’s birth. In the seven years of his marriage, he’d been home maybe a dozen times, mostly for long weekends. Even then, he’d been climbing the walls by day two and finding things to do instead of being the family man Jasmine wanted him to be.
At first, their reunions had been like mini-honeymoons; then resentment bred in his absences, and Jasmine grew more and more angry and cold during his visits. Instead of trying harder, Mike had worked more and come home less. When the divorce papers arrived in Alaska, he’d been more relieved than surprised.
He wasn’t made for staying in one place, any more than a shark was. As soon as Jasmine got back to Georgia, Mike was going to return the girls, make sure his ex was set up in a proper home for the kids, and then hurry back to the only home he really loved—the Coast Guard. That was where he fit best, living on the edge of the world, battling the Bering Sea and Death with nothing more than his wits, a tin can with rotors, and a few of America’s finest.
Then why did he keep glancing at Diana and wishing like hell she’d look back? Why was he still thinking about what Luke had said about Diana not seeing anyone right now? And why was he dumb enough to hope that maybe she’d worn a dress today because she knew he would be here?
Olivia passed the bowl of salad to Mike. “I don’t know if you have anything lined up already, but I saw there’s a great art camp for kids starting up soon. Might be something the girls would like to do.”
Jenny’s attention perked. “Art? Like painting and drawing?”
“Yup. I know the woman who’s teaching it. Some of her watercolors are hanging in one of the gift shops on the boardwalk. If you want to go see them, I’d be glad take you sometime.”
“I like coloring,” Ellie said. “And drawing horsies. ’Cept I make my horsies blue because I think blue horsies are prettier than brown horsies.”
Mike drizzled some dressing on his salad, then reached for the barbecue sauce. “Sounds like a winner all around. When’s it start? Tomorrow, by any chance?”
Olivia laughed. “No, no. Not until after the Fourth. But it runs the entire month of July.”
“Can we do it?” Ellie asked. “Please? I wanna draw horsies and color them. Lots of horsies. Do you think the lady will let me color them blue?”
Mike shook his head. “No can do, El. You two will be back at your mom’s house by then.”
“Your leave is up that soon?” Luke said.
Mike nodded. “Back on base by the third of July. I’ll be freezing my butt off in Alaska and missing the beach.”
More than the beach,
a part of him whispered. Just like he’d missed her the last time he’d gone back to Kodiak. Diana Tuttle had been in his mind every day since then, even if he wanted to pretend otherwise.
“Honey, aren’t you eating?” Diana said to Jenny.
For the first time, Mike noticed his eldest daughter’s empty plate. All the dishes had made the rounds of the table, and Jenny hadn’t taken so much as a strawberry. “I’m not hungry.” Jenny crossed her arms over her chest.
Oh, crap. Here it came again. The mule digging in her heels. “Jenny, you promised me—”
“I don’t care. I’m not hungry. I want to go home. Can I go home?”
“Me too,” Ellie said, pushing her plate, filled with a handful of strawberries and nothing else, to the side. “I wanna go home and watch SpongeBob. He’s
Mike listened to their banter and, for a second, envied Luke. His friend had it all—the American dream, right here in this little corner of Florida. If Mike had been a different man, he might have wanted the same. But he’d never really been cut from the mold of a family man, although he’d made a halfhearted attempt at it when he’d married Jasmine. Within a few weeks, the bonds of matrimony had begun to chafe, hanging like thick chains on his neck. Mike cut his leave short, promised Jasmine he’d be back soon, and stayed away until Jenny’s birth. In the seven years of his marriage, he’d been home maybe a dozen times, mostly for long weekends. Even then, he’d been climbing the walls by day two and finding things to do instead of being the family man Jasmine wanted him to be.
At first, their reunions had been like mini-honeymoons; then resentment bred in his absences, and Jasmine grew more and more angry and cold during his visits. Instead of trying harder, Mike had worked more and come home less. When the divorce papers arrived in Alaska, he’d been more relieved than surprised.
He wasn’t made for staying in one place, any more than a shark was. As soon as Jasmine got back to Georgia, Mike was going to return the girls, make sure his ex was set up in a proper home for the kids, and then hurry back to the only home he really loved—the Coast Guard. That was where he fit best, living on the edge of the world, battling the Bering Sea and Death with nothing more than his wits, a tin can with rotors, and a few of America’s finest.
Then why did he keep glancing at Diana and wishing like hell she’d look back? Why was he still thinking about what Luke had said about Diana not seeing anyone right now? And why was he dumb enough to hope that maybe she’d worn a dress today because she knew he would be here?
Olivia passed the bowl of salad to Mike. “I don’t know if you have anything lined up already, but I saw there’s a great art camp for kids starting up soon. Might be something the girls would like to do.”
Jenny’s attention perked. “Art? Like painting and drawing?”
“Yup. I know the woman who’s teaching it. Some of her watercolors are hanging in one of the gift shops on the boardwalk. If you want to go see them, I’d be glad take you sometime.”
“I like coloring,” Ellie said. “And drawing horsies. ’Cept I make my horsies blue because I think blue horsies are prettier than brown horsies.”
Mike drizzled some dressing on his salad, then reached for the barbecue sauce. “Sounds like a winner all around. When’s it start? Tomorrow, by any chance?”
Olivia laughed. “No, no. Not until after the Fourth. But it runs the entire month of July.”
“Can we do it?” Ellie asked. “Please? I wanna draw horsies and color them. Lots of horsies. Do you think the lady will let me color them blue?”
Mike shook his head. “No can do, El. You two will be back at your mom’s house by then.”
“Your leave is up that soon?” Luke said.
Mike nodded. “Back on base by the third of July. I’ll be freezing my butt off in Alaska and missing the beach.”
More than the beach,
a part of him whispered. Just like he’d missed her the last time he’d gone back to Kodiak. Diana Tuttle had been in his mind every day since then, even if he wanted to pretend otherwise.
“Honey, aren’t you eating?” Diana said to Jenny.
For the first time, Mike noticed his eldest daughter’s empty plate. All the dishes had made the rounds of the table, and Jenny hadn’t taken so much as a strawberry. “I’m not hungry.” Jenny crossed her arms over her chest.
Oh, crap. Here it came again. The mule digging in her heels. “Jenny, you promised me—”
“I don’t care. I’m not hungry. I want to go home. Can I go home?”
“Me too,” Ellie said, pushing her plate, filled with a handful of strawberries and nothing else, to the side. “I wanna go home and watch SpongeBob. He’s
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