Chapter 9 - The Harbor of Truth
Spring arrived along the Chesapeake Bay with an explosion of dogwood blossoms, wild honeysuckle, and warm, gentle rains that washed the winter salt from the cedar decks.
On a Saturday in early May, Victoria stood at the end of their private dock, watching David help Zara launch their small Boston Whaler into the creek. Zara was growing tall, her long limbs moving with the confident grace of a girl who had spent the last two years running track and sailing on the bay. She laughed as the small outboard motor sputtered to life, waving a grease-stained hand at her mother before steering the boat toward the open water.
Victoria’s phone chimed in her pocket.
She pulled it out, half-expecting another desperate dispatch from Marcus Thorne regarding the ongoing liquidation of Ethan’s bankruptcy estate.
Instead, it was an email from the Secretary of the Navy’s selection board.
Victoria opened the document.
FROM: CHIEF OF NAVAL OPERATIONS TO: LIEUTENANT COMMANDER VICTORIA VANCE, USN SUBJECT: PROMOTION RECOMMENDATION // ACTIVE DUTY INFORMATION WARFARE CORPS
1. THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES HAS REPOSED SPECIAL TRUST AND CONFIDENCE IN THE PATRIOTISM, VALOR, FIDELITY, AND ABILITIES OF VICTORIA VANCE. YOU HAVE BEEN OFFICIALLY SELECTED FOR PROMOTION TO THE RANK OF COMMANDER, UNITED STATES NAVY.
Victoria stared at the digital seal, the eagle perched atop the crossed anchors.
Twenty-four years.
Twenty-four years since she had walked into that recruiting office in Waltham, Massachusetts, carrying nothing but a fifty-dollar drugstore birthday card and the determination to build a life out of her own sweat.
She didn't feel the need to call her mother. She didn't feel the need to post the achievement on social media for the approval of cousins she hadn't seen in half a decade. The uniform didn't belong to the Vances. It belonged to her.
Behind her, footsteps sounded on the wooden planks of the dock.
Chloe walked up beside her, carrying a bucket of dried corn for the ducks that nested in the reeds. At eleven, she had grown into a bright, fiercely funny girl who played the cello, excelled at science, and never once asked again whether she was bought from a shelf.
"What's that, Mommy?" Chloe asked, peering up at the phone screen.
Victoria slid the phone back into her pocket, smiling down at her daughter. She reached out, gently tucking a stray strand of brown hair behind Chloe’s ear.
"Just some good news from the Navy, baby," Victoria said.
"Are you going to be an even bigger boss now?" Chloe grinned, tossing a handful of corn into the clear water, watching the minnows scatter beneath the surface.
May you like
"A little bit bigger," Victoria laughed softly, wrapping her arm around Chloe’s shoulders, pulling her warm, sturdy little body close against her side.
"Good," Chloe said matter-of-factly. "You're the best boss in the world. And the best mommy."
