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“I…like Philip, too.” The toe of Carla’s sandal traced lazy patterns in the dirt. “In fact, I love him.”
“You didn’t need to tell me that. It’s obvious.”
A sad smile played at the edges of Carla’s mouth. She liked Sylvia. She’d discovered that she liked all of Philip’s friends. They had welcomed her without hesitation and accepted her as a part of their group, going out of their way to include her in the conversation and activities. One of Philip’s friends had worked in Seattle for a short time and remembered Carla’s father. Perhaps that was the reason she was accepted so quickly, but Carla didn’t like to think so.
“The natural thing to do when two people love one another is to get married,” Sylvia suggested softly.
“Not always,” Carla answered with an emotional tremor in her voice. “Oftentimes there are…extenuating circumstances. My father’s a policeman.”
“I heard.” Sylvia slipped her arms into the sleeves of the thin sweater draped over her shoulders and leaned back against the folding chair. “I can understand your hesitancy. Being a policeman isn’t the kind of work I would have chosen for Jeff. There are too many worries, too many potential dangers that affect both our lives. But Jeff’s career is an important part of who he is. It was a package deal, and I’ve had to learn to accept it. Each police wife must come to grips with it sooner or later.”
“Philip’s got to be the most patient man in the world to put up with me.”
“He loves you.” Sylvia smiled. “I remember the first week after Philip returned from Mexico. Jeff complained every night.” She paused and laughed softly. “A lovesick Philip took us all by surprise. We just didn’t expect him to be so human. He’s been as solid as a rock, and we were shocked to discover he’s as vulnerable as the rest of us.”
“He was in love with a flight attendant a few years ago. Did you ever meet Nicole?”
“No.” Sylvia shook her head slowly. “That was before I married Jeff. But I can remember him mentioning how hard Philip took it when they split up. I think Jeff’s worried the same thing is going to happen again.”
Rather than offer reassurances she didn’t have, Carla said, “Philip’s like that. Everything is done full measure.”
“Everything,” Sylvia agreed.
“Nicole was a fool to let him go.” Carla paused and sucked in her breath, realizing what she’d just said. She’d be a fool to allow her fears and inhibitions to ruin her life. Yet something within her, some unresolved part of herself, couldn’t accept what Philip was. The other wives had come to terms, appreciating their men for what they were. Carla hadn’t honored Philip’s commitment to his career, just as her mother had never been able to fully respect her father’s dedication to his. The thought was so profound that it caused Carla to straighten. Maybe for the first time in her life, she needed to talk with her mother.
“Would you like some help out of that chair, Mommy?” Jeff asked as he stepped behind his wife and lovingly rested his hand on her shoulder.
“Next time, I’m going to let him be the one to get pregnant,” Sylvia teased, and extended her hand, accepting her husband’s offer of assistance.
With their arms wrapped around each other, Jeff and Sylvia headed toward their tent.
“Night, Carla,” Sylvia called back with a yawn. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Night.”
“Are you tired?” Philip asked, as he took the chair Sylvia had vacated.
“Not yet.” Not when she could spend a few minutes alone with Philip. Not when they could sit undisturbed in the quiet of the night and talk. There were so many things she wanted to tell him. But in the peaceful solitude by the campfire, none of them seemed important.
“It’s a beautiful night,” he murmured, as he leaned back and stared up at the sky. “In fact, tonight reminds me of Mexico and this incredibly lovely woman I once held in my arms.”
“If I close my eyes, I can almost hear the surf against the shore,” Carla responded, joining his game. “And if I try, really try, I can picture this incredibly wonderful man I met in Mexico sitting across from me.”
Philip’s chuckle was deep and warm. “How hard do you need to try?”
“It’s not so difficult, really.”
“I should hope not.” Philip smiled and moved his chair so that they were sitting side by side. When he sat back down and reached for her hand, Carla glanced at him. His strong face was profiled in the moonlight, his look deep and thoughtful.
“Have you got your strategy all worked out, oh master of the canoe race?” she asked lightly. His pensive look troubled her. She didn’t want anything to ruin these few minutes alone together; this wasn’t the time to discuss her doubts or find the answers to nagging questions.
“Pretty much.” He grimaced and quickly disguised a look of pain.
“Philip, what’s wrong?” Her voice was unnaturally high with concern. “You’re not feeling well, are you?” Immediately she knelt at his side and touched his brow, which was cool and revealed no sign of a fever.
“It’s nothing.” He tried to dispel her worry with a wide grin. “Nerves, I think. I’m always this way before a race.”
Returning to her chair, Carla nodded. “I had the lead in a play when I was in the eighth grade, and I was deathly sick before the first performance. I know what you mean.”
