“I figured if I beat Uncle Sam to it and joined the navy, I wouldn’t wind up in the army.”
“And here we are,” I said.
He laughed a little. “And here we are.”
After a while, we got around to talking about the logistics of separating our lives. “Your car was destroyed,” I told him.
“I figured.”
“How?”
“Someone in the Navy Support Office left me a message saying a USAA claims adjuster was going to arrive on the island tomorrow to assess the damage.”
“Well, I’ve seen it. They towed it over to the compound. And I can tell you right now, it’s going to be a total loss.”
“I loved that car,” he said solemnly.
“Yeah,” I said, “I know.”
We both got quiet.
“Can I ask you something?” I said.
“Sure.”
“Why’d you let this go on for so long? After you knew about Teo and me?”
He started chewing on the cuticle of his thumb. “I don’t know.”
“I think you do.”
“I felt bad about what I did. The night of the wardroom dinner.”
“And this was your penance?” I said. “Letting me see Teo right under your nose?”
“I didn’t like the man I was that night.”
I hadn’t, either, but I saw no reason to beat a dead horse. “I kissed Teo last year.”
“You did?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Nothing happened after that. Not for a long time, anyway. But I felt really bad about it.”
Paul took a deep breath.
“I guess I’m just saying that, between us, we’ve made more than enough mistakes to go around.”
“What do we do about it?”
“Promise ourselves we’ll do better next time?”
He let out a low laugh. “I don’t know that there’s going to be a next time. For me, anyway.”
“Of course there will be,” I said, because even with the growing gulf between us, I knew Paul well enough to know he wouldn’t stay single for long.
EPILOGUE
AFTER PAUL AND I SAIDour goodbyes, I packed a bag and Teo drove me to Olbia, where I caught a flight to Naples and a cab to the Naval Support Activity Center in Agnano. Your mother was staying at the marine barracks, in a special wing that had been set aside for pregnant navy wives waiting to deliver. In the lounge, a big sign read:WELCOME TO THE STORK’S NEST.
