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time, he spoke about Mike. About the possibility that he was dead, not alive. It hurt to hear him feel that way.
    I guess men are more pessimistic than women by nature. I hold out hope he’s alive. Dad has not. But Mom has. Ireally wished you had been here. It got pretty emotional for me with each one of them unloading on me. They didn’t mean to, but who else could they talk to? I went for a hike on Christmas Day and wished you were here. I know that I could have cried in your arms and it would have been okay. I didn’t dare cry in front of Mom and Dad. They were feeling miserable enough.
    Oh, Kyle, I just hope this is over soon. What’s wearing me down isn’t myself as much as those I love, like Mike’s parents. It hurts me to see the pain they carry with them daily. With your help, I’ve been able to put my pain into a perspective of sorts. I don’t know what I’d have done without your care and help through all these years. I’m thankful for your support. And, like you, I love where our friendship is going. It’s a privilege to know the real Kyle Anderson, ’cause he’s a far better guy than that jock facade he wears.
    I’d better go. I hear Mom downstairs. I woke up early and wanted to get this letter off to you today. I can hardly wait to hear from you on New Year’s Eve! Your parents and Mike’s can hardly wait, either. How I wish you could come home for Christmas. Any Christmas! You’re dear to my heart, my best friend.... Gale

Chapter 3
    December 24, 1978
Travis Air Force Base, California
    A ny minute now, Major Kyle Anderson was going to walk through the doors of Operations. Gale fidgeted nervously behind the meteorology desk, the only meteorologist on duty Christmas Eve. Her heart speeded up, as it always did whenever she got a letter or received a call from Kyle. How long had it been since she’d last seen him? Five years. Five of the most hellish years of her life. But his letters and later, his frequent phone calls had helped ease her suffering.
    Licking her lower lip, Gale moved to the forecaster’s desk and sat down. In the other room, twelve Teletype machines noisily clattered away, printing out weather information from around the world. Her mind and heart focused on the fact that within seventy-two hours she would know one way or another whether Mike was alive or dead.
    Rubbing her aching brow, Gale closed her eyes, the tears coming. She fought them back, refusing to cry.
    Sniffing, she took a tissue, dabbed her eyes and tried tofocus on the wall of weather maps. Operations was ghostly quiet. Across the way, one airman was on duty at the aircontrol desk. Everyone else was with family on this Christmas Eve. Everyone had someone to spend the holidays with.
    Two days ago, the Pentagon had informed her that Mike’s dog tags had been supplied by Hanoi as belonging to a POW. The North Vietnamese were releasing some POWs and the remains of other servicemen as a goodwill gesture. As to Mike’s fate, sometime between December 25 and 28, the Pentagon would know and Gale would be contacted. Unable to stand the suspense alone, she had called Kyle.
    More tears came and she wiped them away. He was supposed to go home for Christmas this year. She’d hesitated calling him. She knew how badly his folks wanted to see him and how much he needed to be home. But the pain of waiting alone had driven her to the phone to ask him to come and wait with her instead.
    Kyle hadn’t sounded as if he wanted to be anywhere but at her side when the news came from the Pentagon. She felt guilty about taking him from his folks and hoped that they would forgive her moment of weakness.
    Gale got up and went to the Teleype room where there was a modicum of privacy. She didn’t want the airman across the way to see her like this. Even now, Mike’s parents waited, having also been notified. They had looked to her for solace over the past few years,