She could almost hear his deep voice encouraging her. She could almost feel his strong hand patting her shoulder. She could almost see his hazel eyes sparkling to cheer her up.
He’d only been gone two days. How could she miss him so much?
12
Off the Coast of Maine
Wednesday, June 11, 1941
“Good night, men.” Jim raised one hand in farewell to his fellow officers and left the wardroom.
“Going for your evening constitutional?” Arch asked.
“Yeah.” Although Jim had never favored solitary strolls, the smooth seas, clear skies, and pleasant temperatures on this cruise called to him.
He left the stale smell of tobacco smoke in the wardroom and made his way to the main deck and the fresh smells of ocean air. Here he could chew over the evening’s conversation. Most nights this week, between discussions of shipboard happenings, baseball scores, and news events, the captain had brought up another aspect of Nehemiah’s leadership for discussion.
Jim hadn’t been able to figure out what in the Bible passages referred to him until Durant pointed it out tonight. During the practice loading drill, Jim had asked Gunner’s Mate Udell, “How can we improve?” The wordwewas what Durant had liked.
When Nehemiah arrived in Jerusalem and wanted to enlist the help of the Jewish leaders, he told them, “Ye see the distress that we are in, how Jerusalem lieth waste, and the gates thereof are burned with fire: come, and let us build up the wall of Jerusalem.”
“We. Us. Collaboration,” Durant had said. When a leader inserted himself into the problem and the solution, he didn’t blame his subordinates or look down on them. Then the subordinates rallied behind the leader. That’s what he said Jim had done.
The memory of those words and a lungful of cool night air puffed out Jim’s chest, but he had a long way to go. Durant hinted at it. Jim’s natural style was to gather people together. That came easily to him. But what about when an unpopular or dangerous decision needed to be made?
Jim’s chest deflated. “That’s where I need to improve.”
At the stern of the destroyer, Jim leaned against the empty depth charge racks, which stood ready to roll ash cans of explosives down to submarines if they ever went to battle.
The ship’s wake fanned out astern, and the song “Moonglow” played in Jim’s mind, slow and romantic. Before him, the full moon cast silvery light on the blue waters.
Why was he drawn here every night?
A peaceful view, entrancing, and somehow familiar. Not from earlier trips to sea. It was more like a connection, a reminder. Something about the sight made him feel relaxed and strong and confident. Like ... like ...
Like when he was with Mary.Those eyes.
That was it. Mary’s sparkling, peaceful, entrancing eyes. Boy, did he miss her. Much more than he thought he would.
Mary had a glow rather than a flash about her. With her, he felt like he could become a better man and help her become a better woman. A friendship and yet more.
What now? Jim pushed away from the depth charge rack and strode toward the bow, past the number four gun mount, the number three. Something about his relationship with Mary felt right, but she’d never shown any signs of being attracted to him, and their friendship was comfortable. Best to wait and see if anything happened.
Jim passed the machine gun platform, the practice loading machine, the searchlight platform. Wait and see? That sounded like floating. Could he float into love? Wouldn’t a real man charge ahead and pursue the lady?
He winced and passed the aft funnel, the torpedo tubes, the forward funnel. Whenever he pursued a woman, he came across like a drooling fool, acting as he had with Quintessa. That was surely how Mary remembered him.
Behavior like that wouldn’t impress a sensible woman like Mary. No, he’d have to be subtle and suave.
“Jim Avery suave?” He laughed and made his way down the narrow passageway around the bridge superstructure. He wore a suave uniform and had manners any mom would be proud of, but he still acted like a frisky colt most of the time.
“Mr. Avery? Is that you, sir?” A rough voice came from ahead.
“Yes.” Jim squinted in the faint light from the foremast, range, and side lights overhead. A man in a petty officer’s uniform headed toward him. “Udell?”
“Yes, sir. I was looking for you.”
“For me?” Jim met up with the gunner’s mate.
