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" This is proving more interesting than I hoped.I went to the car and retrieved my earlier outfit. John offered to carry the pile of clothing, which surprised me. I declined, with thanks. He led me to a room, with a half bath across the hallway. I did some perfunctory washing, concentrating on removing the make up. None was better than too much. I redid some eye liner and a slight touch of lip color.The room, my room it seemed, was frilly in a preteen style. The drapery was blue gingham. The four post bed had a lace skirt, though the bed cover was hand embroidered and probably hand quilted. It would bring a small fortune in a knowledgeable auction. Once I noticed that detail, the room came alive. Everything in it was valuable, both by age and by quality. Sheila could die happy here.My first thought had been that Mrs. Cabot wanted me off balance, hence the young girl motif. On further thought, I decided this was her regular guest room. She was "Grandmother" to all the well bred girls. Adam meanwhile flew down to Miami. He'd been ordered out.He was elated. "It's great the girls are getting to know each other," were his first words on greeting me at the airport. I wasn't sure I'd ever see Marisa again.And she kept me hanging. It wasn't until the following Wednesday, three days after getting back from the north, that she phoned me. "You and I have some things to sort out," were her ominous words. An hour later I was sitting facing her in the cramped living room of the small apartment she rented in Little Havana. I wasn't offered a drink."If I hadn't liked her and if she wasn't pregnant I might have strangled her," were my loves first words. I was trying to think of an appropriate response when her eyes caught mine. They were like lasers. Angry lasers. I decided to shut up."She's as bad as you." I heard Marisa's words and wondered if that was good or bad."She's always wanted both of you," she accused."I don't think so. She chose--" Shut up Dave. The slut chose your.
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It belonged to a dead naval officer whose name had been Jack White. Jack was surprised to see that the man had died fourteen years ago to the day. His father put his hands on Jack’s shoulders and drew him close to himself. He turned Jack around to face the grave he had been talking to and said, ‘This is my son, Sir.’ Jack’s brow immediately bunched up as he could see that the rank of the officer buried before them had been lieutenant junior grade. His father was a lieutenant and had had lieutenants junior grade saluting him for a few years now. Jack didn’t know why his father was addressing the grave with the respect that was usually reserved for flag officers. ‘I named him after You, Sir. I think he’s old enough for me to tell him all about You, Sir.’ Jack’s dad knelt before him and looked him in the eye. ‘Jack, this is the grave of the man I named you after. Back when I had just finished the academy and got my first posting, this man saved my life and the lives of eight other men..

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