Ali resisted the urge to find out if her daughter had taken advantage of Adam’s offer before now and decided she probably had. For Jazmine, it was as if the sun rose and set on Peter’s friend. Lieutenant Commander Adam Kennedy had been a support to both of them since the accident that had abruptly taken Peter out of their lives.

It sounded so cut and dried to say a computer had malfunctioned aboard Peter’s F/A-18. He hadn’t had a chance to recover before the jet slammed into the ground. He’d died instantly, his life snuffed out in mere seconds. That was two years ago now, two very long years, and every day since, Peter had been with her. Her first thought was always of him and his image was the last one her mind released before she went to sleep at night. He was part of her. She saw him in Jazmine’s smile, in the three little lines that formed between the girl’s eyebrows when she frowned. Peter had done that, too. And their eyes were the exact same shade of brownish green.

As an SMO, or senior medical officer, Ali was familiar with death. What she didn’t know was how to deal with the aftermath of it. She still struggled and, as a result, she understood her sister’s pain. Yes, Shana’s breakup with Brad was different, and of a lesser magnitude, but it was a loss. In ending her relationship with him, Shana was also giving up a dream, one she’d held and cherished for five years. She was adjusting to a new version of her life and her future. Shana had flippantly dismissed any doubts or regrets about the breakup. Those would come later, like a sneak attack—probably when Shana least expected it. They had with Ali.

“Mom,” Jazmine cried, exasperated. “Dial!”

“Oh, sorry,” Ali murmured, punching out the number. An answering machine came on almost immediately.

“He isn’t there?” Jazmine asked, studying her. She didn’t hide her disappointment. It was doom and gloom all over again as she threw herself backward onto the bed, arms spread-eagled.

Ali left a message and asked him to get in touch.

“When do you think he’ll call?” Jazmine demanded impatiently.

“I don’t know, but I’ll make sure we get a chance to see him if it’s possible.”

“Of course it’s possible,” Jazmine argued. “He’ll want to see me. And you, too.”

Ali shrugged. “He might not be back by the time I need to fly out, but you’ll see him, don’t worry.”

Jazmine wouldn’t look at her. Instead she stared morosely at the ceiling, as if she didn’t have a friend in the world. The kid had moved any number of times and had always been a good sport about it, until now. Ali didn’t blame her for being upset, but there wasn’t anything she could do to change her orders.

“You’ll love living with your aunt Shana,” Alison said, trying a new tactic. “Did I tell you she has an ice-cream parlor? How much fun is that?”

Jazmine wasn’t impressed. “I don’t really know her.”

“This will be your opportunity to bond.”

Jazmine sighed. “I don’t want to bond with her.”

“You will eventually,” Ali said with forced brightness. Jazmine wasn’t fooled.

“I’m not glue, you know.”

Alison held back a smile. “We both need to make the best of this, Jazz. I don’t want to leave you any more than you want me to go.”

Her daughter scrambled to a sitting position. As her shoulders slumped, she nodded. “I know.”

“Your aunt Shana loves you.”

“Yippee, skippy.”

Alison tried again. “The ice-cream parlor is directly across the street from the park.”

“Yippee.”

“Jazmine!”

“I know, I know.”

Ali wrapped one arm around the girl’s shoulders. “The months will fly by. You’ll see.”

Jazmine shook her head. “No, they won’t,” she said adamantly, “and I have to change schools again. I hate that.”

Changing schools, especially this late in the year, would be difficult. In a few weeks, depending on the Seattle schedule, classes would be dismissed for the summer. Ali kissed the top of Jazmine’s head and closed her eyes. She had the distinct feeling her daughter was right. The next six months wouldn’t fly, they’d crawl. For all three of them…

Shana wanted children, someday, when the time was right. But she’d assumed she’d take on the role of motherhood the way everyone else did. She’d start with an infant and sort of grow into it—ease into being a parent gradually, learning as she went. Instead, she was about to get a crash course. She wondered if there were manuals to help with this kind of situation.

Pacing her living room, she paused long enough to check out the spare bedroom one last time. She’d added some welcoming touches for Jazmine’s benefit and hoped the stuffed teddy bear would appeal to her niece. Girls of any age liked stuffed animals, didn’t they? The bedspread, a fetching shade of pink with big white daisies, was new, as was the matching pink throw rug. She just hoped Jazmine would recognize that she was trying to make this work.

She wanted Jazmine to know she was willing to make an effort if the girl would meet her halfway. Still, Shana didn’t have a good feeling about it.

Her suspicions proved correct. When Ali arrived, it was immediately apparent that Jazmine wanted nothing to do with her aunt Shana. The nine-year-old was dressed in faded green fatigues and a camouflage army-green T-shirt. She sat on the sofa with a sullen look that discouraged conversation. Her long dark hair fell across her face. When she wasn’t glaring at Shana, she stared at the carpet as if inspecting it for loose fibers.

“I can’t tell you how good it is to see you,” Ali told Shana, turning to her daughter, obviously expecting Jazmine to echo the sentiment. The girl didn’t.

Shana moved into the kitchen, hoping for a private word with her sister. They hadn’t always been close. All through high school, they’d competed with each other. Ali had been the more academic of the two, while Shana had excelled in sports. From their father, a family physician, they’d both inherited a love of science and medicine. He’d died suddenly of a heart attack when Shana was twenty.

Within months, their lives were turned upside down. Their mother fell to pieces but by that time, Ali was in the Navy. Luckily, Shana was able to stay close to home and look after their mom, handle the legal paperwork and deal with the insurance, retirement funds and other responsibilities. Shana had attended college classes part-time and kept the household going. At twenty-two, she was hired by one of the up-and-coming pharmaceutical companies as a sales rep. The job suited her. Having spent a good part of her life around medical professionals, she was comfortable in that atmosphere. She was friendly and personable, well-liked by clients and colleagues. Within a few years, she’d risen to top sales representative in her division. The company had been sorry to see her go and had offered an impressive bonus to persuade her to stay. But Shana was ready for a change, in more ways than one.

The last time the sisters had been together was at Peter’s funeral. Shortly afterward, Ali had returned to Italy. Although she could have taken an assignment back in the States, Ali chose to finish her tour in Europe. As much as possible, she’d told Shana, she wanted Jazmine to remain in a familiar environment. A few months ago, she’d been transferred to San Diego, but no one had expected her to be stationed aboard the Woodrow Wilson, the newest and largest of the Navy’s aircraft carriers. According to her sister, this was a once-in-a-career assignment. Maybe, but in Shana’s opinion, the Navy had a lousy sense of timing.

“Jazmine doesn’t seem happy about being here,” Shana commented when they were out of earshot. She understood how the girl felt. The poor kid had enough turmoil in her life without having her mother disappear for six months.

“She’ll be fine.” Ali cast an anxious glance toward the living room as Shana took three sodas from the refrigerator.

“Sure she will,” Shana agreed, “but will I?”

Ali bit her lower lip and looked guilty. “There isn’t anyone else.”

“I know. These next six months will give Jazmine and me a chance to know each other,” Shana announced, stepping into the living room and offering Jazmine a soda. “Isn’t that right?”

The girl stared at the can as if it held nerve gas. “I don’t want to live with you.”

Well, surprise, surprise. Shana would never have guessed that.

“Jazmine!”

“No,” Shana said, stopping her sister from chastising the girl. “We should be honest with one another.” She put down Jazmine’s drink and sat on the opposite end of the sofa, dangling her own pop can in both hands. “This is going to be an experience for me, too. I haven’t been around kids your age all that much.”

“I can tell.” Jazmine frowned at the open door to her bedroom. “I hate pink.”

Shana had been afraid of that. “We can take it back and exchange it for something you like.”

“Where’d you get it? Barbies R Us?”

Shana laughed; the kid was witty. “Close, but we can check out the Army surplus store if you prefer.”

This comment warranted a half smile from Jazmine.

“We’ll manage,” Shana said with what she hoped sounded like confidence. “I realize I’ve got a lot to learn.”

“No kidding.”

“Jazmine,” Ali snapped in frustration, “the least you can do is try. Give your aunt credit for making an effort. You can do the same.”

“I am trying,” the girl snapped in return. “A pink bedroom and a teddy bear? Oh, puleeeze! She’s treating me like I’m in kindergarten instead of fourth grade.”

Shana had barely started this new venture and already she’d failed miserably. “We can exchange the bear, too,” she suggested. “Army surplus again?”

Her second attempt at being accommodating was less appreciated than the first. This time Jazmine didn’t even crack a smile.

Ali sat in the space between Shana and Jazmine and threw her arms over their shoulders. “If I’ve learned anything in the last few years, it’s that women have to stick together. I can’t be with you, Jazz. That’s all there is to it. I’m sorry, I wish things were different, but they aren’t. If you want, at the end of this deployment, I’ll resign my commission.”

Jazmine’s head rose abruptly. “You’d leave the Navy?”

Ali nodded. This was as much a surprise to Shana as it was to her niece. From all indications, Ali loved military life and had fit into it with comfort and ease.

“Now that your dad’s gone, my life isn’t the same anymore,” Ali continued. “I’m your mother and you’re far more important to me than any career, Navy or not. I won’t leave you again, Jazmine, and that’s a promise.”

At those words the girl burst into tears. Embarrassed, she hid her face in both hands, her shoulders shaking as Ali hugged her.

Ali seemed to be trying not to weep, but Shana had no such compunction. Tears slipped down her cheeks.