Navy Christmas. Geri Krotow
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saw his eyes shift to the airplane ornament. While it saddened her that he’d know his father mostly through the memories she shared with him, she was grateful he hadn’t suffered the grief an older child would have.
“What was the world war?”
“There were two world wars.” She picked up the wooden model, willing it to tell her its story.
“This plane was flown in World War II, in the Pacific, from what the internet says.” She held it in her hands, wondering again why Dottie had kept it. She knew virtually nothing of her biological aunt’s younger life.
Had it been from Dottie’s father? Her biological grandfather? Or was it another item Jonas Scott would demand she turn over to him and his siblings? Based on how long the ornament had obviously been packed away, she’d be surprised if Jonas or his brothers knew about it.
At the clinic Jonas had caught her off guard. She’d had to remind herself that he was the same man who had become her nemesis from the moment Dottie’s will was read six months ago.
Serena had been asked to attend the reading of Dottie’s will, much to her dismay. She hadn’t expected anything, especially not a house. Jonas wasn’t at the reading, of course, since he’d been downrange. In a war zone.
He’d emailed her almost immediately, offering to buy the house.
Unlike his siblings, Jonas hadn’t been interested in getting anything from Dottie’s estate, which had been considerable. He’d walked away with enough money to build his own home on Whidbey, and a nice one at that, or at least pay off the mortgage on the small town house his brothers told her he had.
She understood how easy it was for him to see her as nothing more than an opportunist who’d bamboozled Dottie. She’d had the opportunity—Dottie had received physical therapy at the clinic where Serena worked temporarily as a receptionist until she was sure she wanted to go back to practicing law full-time. Serena clenched her teeth at the memory of how damned rude he’d been in his last email to her, and the letter he’d sent registered mail, indicating his intention to contest the will if they couldn’t reach an agreement. In other words, if she didn’t accept his offer for the house.
He hadn’t legally, officially, filed an appeal for the will. She was certain it was only a matter of time. He probably thought that once he was back on island he’d be able to convince her to give him the house.
The Jonas she’d met at the base hospital didn’t resemble the 100-percent jerk she’d imagined him to be, although his comments about working in pediatrics put him in that category. It was easier to think of him as the man who wanted her house.
The Jonas she’d met appeared genuinely apologetic for his harsh words to Dr. Franklin. She’d glimpsed compassion in his eyes as he’d checked Pepé in for his examination.
He knew she was a lawyer, but hadn’t pressed the point. His brother Paul had indicated he’d hire her when she was ready to practice law again. Had he told Jonas?
Serena loved the law and had applied for her Washington State license, which would take another month or so to come through. She still wasn’t certain if she’d seek a job with Paul Scott’s firm, though.
She’d taken the job at the physical-therapy clinic as a distraction when she and Pepé had first moved to Whidbey. She hadn’t been ready to commit to full-time work yet, and she had several months of transitioning her legal license from Texas to Washington, which included exams.
She’d come west to get to know the other half of her biological family, a family she’d never even known about until after Phil’s death. She wanted to keep her focus on that, rather than her law career.
Phil’s death had hit her mother hard. Serena had been surprised and then shocked when Juanita showed up at her door after Phil’s burial, with the announcement that she did indeed know who Serena’s biological father was, and that he, too, had died within the past year. It had been a bitter pill at the time, but now that she’d had the chance to know Dottie and find out about her family, her resentment toward her mother had lessened.
Serena couldn’t let any other people die before she had a chance to get to know them. What had started as a short trip west to meet Dottie and find out about her biological father had turned into an entrée to a new life.
Dottie had died before they’d had a chance to go through Dottie’s entire life history, but she’d recounted a lot about her stepsons, especially Jonas, over dinners and picnics. Even better, the bond Dottie and Pepé shared had been immediate. Dottie said that Pepé looked just like his grandfather, Dottie’s brother, Todd.
Serena’s biological father.
“Hey, Mom, can we go swimming on Thanksgiving?” Pepé stood next to her at the computer desk, dressed in his Frozen pajamas.
“I don’t know, honey. It’s too cold if you ask me.”
“But they heat the pool at Beyond the Stars.” His eyes were big as he questioned her logic. She giggled.
“Yes, but it’s wintertime, sweetie. It’ll probably be too chilly, so don’t get your hopes up. Besides, you’ll be too busy eating the gobble-gobble!” She tickled his tummy and he shrieked with glee, snuggling into her.
At almost seven years old, his snuggle time with her was limited. Yet it was hard to imagine a day when her little boy would reject her hugs.
She gave his head a kiss and patted his back. “Go brush your teeth and I’ll be right in to read with you.”
“Okay, Mom.”
He darted out of the office and she stared at the computer screen.
BTS, or Beyond the Stars, was the special resort for military Gold Star families to find peace and rediscover themselves after the initial shock and grief of losing a loved one to war had passed.
She and Pepé had been to BTS for a week almost two years ago and it had made a world of difference for both of them. She’d only just found Dottie, and Pepé was still struggling with the fact he’d never see his dad again. The staff of counselors and social workers had been so compassionate with Pepé, and Serena had left with her own batteries recharged. It was where she and Pepé had found the courage to live life on life’s terms.
They were going back for Thanksgiving at the invitation of the owner and director, Val Di Paola, and her husband, Lucas. Located on San Juan Island in the middle of Puget Sound, the resort was magical in its setting.
What it had done for her and Pepé was nothing short of a miracle. The staff had become good friends, almost like an extended family, to them.
Thanksgiving at BTS was going to be wonderful.
Moffett Field, California August 1941
“HENRY!”
Sarah yelled as loudly as she could, knowing that her voice could never carry over the marching band and cheer of the crowd as the aviation graduates marched in front of them to the center of the field.
“Momma, where’s Daddy?” Dottie’s face was screwed up in a scowl. It was hard for her to tell one man from another when they all had crew cuts and wore the same uniform.
Sarah took her little white-gloved hand.
“Here, honey, I’ll help you point to him. He’s in the first row, third over—the tall one.”
“I see him, Momma!” Dottie giggled, and Sarah’s heart swelled at how cute she looked with her blond curls and the red, white and blue beret she’d knitted for her. Shirley Temple didn’t have anything on almost-six-year-old Dottie Forsyth.
“I’m sure you do, sweetie.” Sarah didn’t think Dottie could actually see her father but she wasn’t going to question her now. They hadn’t