Officer, Surgeon...Gentleman!

She g

lanced toward her mother. The Californian sunshine shone in through the car windows as her mother drove towards the house, casting a glare across Sarah Stockton’s face.

“I asked you what was wrong. You don’t seem yourself.”

Okay, so maybe her mother wasn’t that distracted after all.

“It’s good to be back on land, that’s all.” No way did she want to admit to her mother that she’d fallen in love with a man her family would think her crazy for trusting. After all, they had loved and welcomed him up to the point he’d walked away from the eldest Stockton daughter. He’d abandoned them all.

And now he’d abandoned Amelia a second time.

“You’re sure? You look distraught.”

Amelia nodded, asked about the hospital where her mother worked. Her mother should have retired years ago, but refused to hang up her nurse’s cap, saying that as long as there was breath in her body she’d care for the ill.

Amelia was pretty sure her father felt exactly the same way, although apparently he’d gotten more and more wrapped up in military politics over the past few years and spent more and more time in D.C.

“I half expect him to announce we’ll be moving, but he may be in for a surprise.”

Startled, Amelia glanced toward her mother. “What do you mean?”

“I like San Diego and am tired of being uprooted. I plan to stay here regardless of his career plans.”

“You’re kidding!” Her mother never balked her father’s wishes. Never in the history of mankind. Well, at least never that Amelia was aware of.

“No, dear, I’m not kidding.” She reached across the bucket seat, patted Amelia on the knee. “No worries, darling. John won’t take a job in Washington if it means leaving me behind.”

“He won’t?”

“Of course not, dear.” Her mother smiled a knowing smile. “He’d miss me too much to ever do that. Besides, I have my ways of getting him to make the right decisions. Of course…” she winked “…he always thinks he’s the one who came up with the right decision and I love him too much to ever point out otherwise.”

With that, her mother considered the conversation over and returned her attention to the San Diego traffic.

Amelia stared in awe at the petite dynamo in the driver’s seat. All these years she’d thought her mother had simply gone along with her father’s wishes. In that moment, she’d seen her mother as the neck steering the head in whatever direction she wanted the Stockton family to go.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, because there’s no man I admire more, but I always thought Daddy a bit of a dictator.”

Her mother laughed. “Are you kidding? Your father is a big pussycat.”

“Only you would call Admiral John Stockton a pussycat.”

Her mother blushed then laughed a sparkly little laugh that spoke of years of love. “You might be right on that, but he loves you children with all his heart. Perhaps he was a bit stern, but he wanted you to grow into strong individuals. Each of you has.”

For the rest of the drive, Amelia was forced to reevaluate every assumption she’d ever made about her parents’ marriage. Sure, she’d never doubted her parents’ love for each other, but she’d always believed her mother the victim of loving a man who was too militant to fully express that love.

Obviously her mother didn’t see it that way. Her mother felt quite loved.

She was still marveling at her misconceptions when they arrived at a typical Californian-style home with stucco walls and a red tile roof. A white sedan sat in the driveway, as did her father’s Humvee, his pride and joy.

A few days home would do her good. Amelia loved her family and missed the closeness her siblings and she had shared while growing up. All for one and one for all.

Her mother parked the car, turned off the ignition, jumped out and was grabbing bags of groceries from the backseat before Amelia finished soaking in the fact that she was home. At least, the closest thing she had to home.

If Amelia thought learning her mother led the family just as much as the Admiral did had surprised her, the sight that greeted her when she stepped onto her parents’ patio stole ten years of her life.

Her father stood at a grill, flipping burgers, chatting to a man sitting on a wrought-iron swing a few meters away.

The most infuriating, frustrating, unbelievable man Amelia had ever met.