Being the sole recipient of his grandparents’ attention that evening tired Sam out. He went to bed without any problems.
As I came back into the living room, my father stood and unfolded a blue T-shirt with a flourish and held it up across his chest. “I brought you another one, Peach.”
“She doesn’t want another T-shirt, JB.” My mother was shaking her head.
I read the words. “Quantum Entanglement Is Neither Here Nor There.” I smiled. “Good one.”
He balled it up and tossed it to me. “You can never have too many T-shirts.”
“I kind of think I might. But thanks.” My wardrobe of pithy physics-themed shirts was entirely due to him.
He was the first to admit that he knew nothing about physics, but whenever someone asked about me, he’d say, “Georgie? She’s a genius. Don’t know where she got it from, but it’s true.”
He sat back down in Sean’s old chair.
My mother got up. “I’m just going to powder my nose before we leave for the hotel.” She passed by my father on her way.
He reached out for her. “Best thing I ever did was marry you.”
She bent down, took him by the chin, and kissed him. “Don’t you ever forget it.”
“Like I could.” He kissed her back and then sent me a wink. “You’re always reminding me.”
She straightened. Laid a hand on his shoulder and sent me a glance. “Can you believe this man didn’t know a butterfly from a boutonniere when I first met him?”
He took her hand. “It was in first grade.”
“Well. It’s been my life’s work, but I think all those rough edges are just about buffed off.” She ruffled his hair and turned to walk away.
He pinched her on the butt. “All but the ones you like.”
It used to be that I was both profoundly embarrassed by and incredibly proud of my parents. Who else had a mom and dad who looked like Ken and Barbie? And who else could say their father was a general and their mother was a no-kidding beauty queen? However, it had been embarrassing in the extreme when they kissed in front of my friends, or when my mother wore her fur coat to shop for groceries.
In college, incredibly proud had evaporated, leaving only profoundly embarrassed. It wasn’t cool at the time to cheer America’s swagger on the international stage. And when your professors were grappling with new theories of light and matter, beauty pageants just seemed so trivial.
By the time I met Sean, I was swinging away from embarrassment and back toward proud. To have two parents who took care of themselves just as carefully as they took care of those around them? Who were still deeply in love with each other? The more I’d seen of the world, the more I’d realized just how rare they were.
But I was a grown-up with a son of my own. And I knew that people weren’t good or bad. People were people. They were good and bad. All of us had weaknesses and strengths.
My parents’ strengths were many.
Ever since I was old enough to notice, my parents had been tirelessly, relentlessly patriotic. Military-themed symposia, panels, seminars? My father had been part of them. Visiting professor, cultural ambassador, talking head? He’d done all that too.
And my mother had been at his side the whole time—comforting military spouses, cajoling Congress for more support for veterans, and fundraising for myriad nonprofits.
If there was good to do in the military community, they had done it.
Their weaknesses?
Appearances seemed so important to them. But considering who they were, wouldn’t appearances have to be important? In order to advocate for others, to present yourself as an expert in something, you had to be a person who could be trusted, didn’t you?
Even I didn’t wear yoga pants and my Physics—I Can Explain It to You but I Can’t Understand It for You T-shirt to customer meetings.
Sometimes their squabbles became heated. And my father could be a little controlling.
But all couples experienced friction, didn’t they?
Even Sean and I had had our moments.
Moment.
And part of the job description of a general was to control.
Knowing Sean, there had to be something behind his suspicions. If he said something happened in my father’s company, then something probably had. The question was, why didn’t my father know about it?
* * *
Sean was alive!
The moment my parents pulled out of the driveway, I said the words aloud. I whispered them to myself. “Sean is alive!” Okay, I might have more than whispered them. Alice’s ears pricked as her head swiveled toward the door.
I was every emoji on my phone, all at the same time.
Ecstatic that he was alive; mad that he had let me believe he was dead for so long. I still didn’t understand why he’d done that. But as soon as he could clear up what had happened during the Desert Sabre project, we could get on with our lives.
I heard a whisper in the back of my mind, but I was too busy exulting over Sean’s appearance—planning how we would let Sam know and figuring out what to say to people like Jim and June—to listen.
Sean was alive!
It wasn’t until I had slipped into bed and turned off the light that the volume on my exultation was turned down enough that I could finally hear.
Sean was no choirboy. Trouble followed him for most of his youth. If he thought something had been going on, then experience said he was probably right. And what had his instinct always been? What was at the core of his character? The desire to protect the ones he loved. Sean would have left us only if he thought he had to.