Lighthouse Road (Cedar Cove #1)(53)
Cecilia regretted rejecting those potential friends earlier.
Tell me about school—if you write me back that is. I’ll bet you’re at the top of the class.
Love,
Ian
Randall-Ian-M HT2 <[email protected]> P.S. About that night…is everything all right? You know what I mean.
He was asking if she’d gotten pregnant. He should be concerned. They’d been stupid and this wasn’t the first time, but she swore it would be the last.
Cecilia read the letter through again. Her overwhelming reaction was pleasure. It wasn’t a long letter, but she knew Ian had agonized over every word. The apology had been hard for him. Well, she deserved one. She was gratified that he’d asked about school; it was almost as though he knew she’d gotten the A on her final.
Cecilia left for work a few minutes early that afternoon and drove to the library. Fortunately, one of the computers was free. Cecilia slipped into the seat and logged on to the Internet. Her message was brief and to the point, because she didn’t have a lot of time and because she wasn’t entirely sure it would go through, anyway.
April 16th
Dear Ian,
Your letter arrived this afternoon. Apology accepted. I miss you.
Cecilia
P.S. Rest assured all is well.
Curiosity got the better of her the following day, and she returned to the library and was thrilled to find an e-mail waiting for her from Ian.
April 17th
Dearest Cecilia,
I was really happy to hear from you. What did you mean, you miss me? Is it true? I don’t care if it is or isn’t, I’m taking it at face value. Andrew and Cathy e-mail each other nearly every day and she wrote about inviting you to the “girls’ night out.” I’m glad you’re making friends.
Life on an aircraft carrier is a whole lot different than a submarine. I didn’t know if I was going to like it, but it’s all right, I guess.
Love,
Ian
P.S. Is all really well?
April 18th
Dear Ian,
My final grades are posted for the Algebra and English classes and I got a 4.0 in both. I’m so THRILLED! Mr. Cavanaugh suggested I take an advanced Algebra class, and I am. I’m still working weekends, filling in as a cocktail waitress and am putting aside my tip money for school.
I know you got the transfer to the George Washington because of Allison, and because of me. I appreciate what you did, but Ian, it was too late. If you want to transfer back to the submarine, then that’s what you should do.
I have to hurry to work. Sorry, I wish this could be longer. I will write you a real letter soon, I promise. School starts up again in two weeks.
Think of me.
Cecilia
April 19th
Dear Cecilia,
You asked me to think of you—that was a joke, right? I think of you all the time. You’re my wife, no matter what the attorney tries to tell me. Are we still getting the divorce? God, I hope not. I never wanted it. You know how I feel about that whole issue. Sorry, I didn’t mean to harp at you about that. I’ll live with whatever you decide.
You said something about me transferring from the Atlantis, and why I did it. This might come as a shock, but I didn’t do it for you. Not entirely. I did it for me, too. When we were deployed that last time before Allison was born, you and I never suspected you’d have the baby while I was away. Neither of us had the slightest warning of what would happen. When I returned, our daughter had already been buried. You were hurting so badly, and I realize now that I wasn’t much help to you, mainly because I was dealing with my own pain. I guess I really didn’t know how to help. You hated the Navy, and I felt as though you hated me, too. It wasn’t a good time for either of us. I never told you—perhaps if I had, we might not have gone down the path we did—but after my last tour on the Atlantis, I tried to get out of the Navy. My baby was dead and my marriage was falling apart and I was about as low as I’ve ever been in my life. I’m not blaming you, I swear it. My CO talked to me and arranged a transfer to the George Washington. The paperwork said it was for psychological reasons.
Congratulations on your classes! I’m proud of you. We’ll celebrate when I’m back home. It’s less than five months now. That seems like a lifetime, but the weeks will go fast. I love you and that’s not going to change.
Ian
P.S. Don’t freak out over me telling you how I feel. I haven’t mentioned my feelings for you in a long time, because it didn’t seem you wanted to hear. You still might not, but I’m hoping you do.
April 22nd
Dear Ian,
I had to wait until the library opened to e-mail you back—that’s why the long delay. Cathy told me there are places I can go other than the library and after having to wait all weekend to contact you, I’m going to do it. I was so frustrated! Other than that, I had a good weekend.
I had my best tip night ever on Saturday. I know you don’t like me working the bar. I don’t much care for it myself, but it’s the only way I have of getting ahead financially. The tips are decent and Bobby’s around, so I don’t have to put up with harrassment from customers. Believe it or not, he’s keeping an eye on me. He even threatened to throw a guy out last week! Hardly seemed like my peace-loving father.
That’s my little confession—I wanted to tell you about staying on at the bar after you explained about the transfer from the Atlantis to the George Washington. You’re right. It would have helped if we’d communicated.