“‘The Trouble with Tribbles,’ ” Millie answered. We sat at the table, lingering over our apple pie and debating the best Star Trek episode. Jack lay under the table, hoping for crumbs.
“No way! It’s ‘A Piece of the Action!’ ” Best episode ever.
Millie pressed her fork into the pie crumbs on her plate. “Which one is that?”
“The one where Kirk and Spock pretend to be gangsters in order to get the people on this other planet to stop fighting each other.”
“Oh, yeah.” She nodded. “But I like the Tribbles one better. It’s cute.”
Well, that’s what we want in our science fiction—cute. The gangster one was better. Still, I couldn’t believe Millie was such a big fan of Star Trek. I was about to ask her what else she liked about the show when Dad pushed open the back door and slung his briefcase on the counter.
“Hey, Dad—which Star Trek—”
Jack nearly turned over the table when he jumped out to greet Dad. I had to hold down my milk glass. Jack danced around Dad, yipping and pawing him, sniffing his feet.
But Dad didn’t lean to pet him like he usually did. His face was slack, his eyes rimmed in red. His whole body slumped with exhaustion. Sitting down, he dropped his head into his hands, raking his hair with his fingers.
My heart struck a fast beat. I’d seen him like this only once before and that’s when the doctor told us about Mom’s cancer. My voice cracked when I asked, “Dad—what’s wrong?”
Millie rose and patted his back.
“I talked with Stan Kowalski today. He got a visit from an NCO and the army chaplain—”
“No!” Millie clutched her arms to her chest.
Dad lifted his head and stared into space. “David was killed in action. They’ll be flying his body back.”
“Oh, dear Lord.” Millie’s hands flapped in the air. “Poor Jan. Oh, my gosh …” Tears rolled down her face. She pulled a tissue from her apron pocket and wiped her cheeks.
The muscles in Dad’s jaw flexed. His eyebrows pressed down and he squeezed his eyes shut. “I drove over to their house.” He looked up at Millie. It seemed as though he were pleading or searching. “They lost their son …”
Bewilderment filled his eyes. I was younger when Mom died; I knew only how sad I was. Now seeing the grief on Dad’s face, I didn’t know what to do. Someone died. He wasn’t related to us, but he was connected somehow. He was connected through death.
Millie reached out and hugged Dad, and he let her.
Jack laid his head over my feet. I couldn’t believe that guy—David—I couldn’t believe David had died. I didn’t have to wonder what his family was doing right now; I knew firsthand. This can’t be real, they were saying to each other. I just sent him a card the other day, or, I thought he was coming home. They said he would come home. Yeah, I knew exactly what they were saying.
After a few moments, Millie broke off, poured a cup of coffee, and set it on the table for Dad. “I’ve got to call Jan, okay?”
We stared at the table, listening to Millie sob into the phone.
“Let’s get out of here,” Dad said, already climbing out of his chair, unbuttoning his shirt.
Jack stirred at the movement. “Where to?” I asked.
“I don’t know.” He wrested his air force shirt off. “But let’s go.”