Family Ties

Her eyes welled with tears. For a panicky moment I thought she was angry, but then I realized they were happy tears. Neither of us were ready to say it aloud, but we both knew why she was happy.

“So…” I said when she composed herself, “what do you think? Should I think about it some more or should I keep going with architecture?”

She wiped her cheeks and tried to look neutral. “What do you want to do?”

“Both!” I said with a laugh.

She laughed too. “The world’s first flying architect!”

“I can design my own targets!”

“Exactly!”

We laughed and made a few more jokes before we remembered why we were laughing in the first place.

“Do you really want to join the Navy?” she asked. “I’d support you a hundred percent if you do. I’d be proud of you.”

I heard something in her voice. “But…?”

“But nothing.”

I waited her out, and she eventually grimaced.

“I hate that I can’t lie to you,” she said. “You have no idea how that messes with my confidence. I’m always worried that you’ll see right through me and know what I’m really thinking.”

“Is that so bad? To trust someone enough that you don’t need to lie to them?”

“Well, not when you put it like that,” she said with feigned irritation.

I grinned and waited for her to turn serious.

“No,” she said at last. “I don’t want you to join the military.”

“Why not?” I asked softly.

“I’m… not exactly sure. I mean, I love my dad and brothers—don’t get me wrong—but…” She shrugged. “I guess I just don’t want that kind of life for myself. Or…” She looked at me through lowered lashes. “Or for my children. One day. I’m not saying that you and I—”

“It’s okay,” I said with a laugh. “We’re not painting the baby’s room just yet.”

She nodded without looking up. Then she fidgeted. “Are you upset?”

“That you’re talking about having kids together?”

“No. That I don’t want you to join the Navy.”

I thought about it before I answered.

“I can get used to it if you want to,” she said into the silence.

“I… don’t think I do.” I fell silent and tried to put my thoughts into words. “I guess it’s one of those things that’s a childhood dream but isn’t meant to be a grown-up reality. If that makes sense.”

“I wanted to be a prima ballerina when I was little. But then I really started learning to draw and sculpt, and…”

“You fell in love with art.”

She nodded.

“That’s how I feel about architecture. I love the idea of building things.”

“Exactly.”

“So… I guess that’s settled.”

She nodded, and we fell silent. After a moment I rested my hand palm-up on the armrest between us. She put hers in mine and I squeezed gently.

We’d just made our first major decision as a couple. I didn’t know whether to be pleased or scared to death.

We made it home a little before one in the morning. Wren was waiting up for us, although she looked like she’d been dozing the moment before. She smiled tiredly and stood as we came through the front door.

“Welcome home. Did you have a—? Oh my God, what happened to your eye?”

“Oh, this?” I said disingenuously.

She looked at Christy in alarm. “Did things go okay with your parents?”

“More than okay. They loved him!”

Wren looked confused, but who could blame her? My left eye was still a livid purple that had only just started fading. The cut was healing well—Rich had given me good advice—but it was still covered with a bandage. Christy’s tone was completely at odds with my appearance, so I understood Wren’s reaction.

“She’ll tell you,” I said to Wren. Then I went back out to the Cruiser for more luggage.

The girls had moved to the kitchen when I returned with the first load, so I headed straight upstairs and dropped the suitcases in Christy’s room. I took one more trip to get the last two and then hauled our smaller ones and carry-on bags upstairs as well.

I finally joined them in the kitchen, where Christy was eating a snack and still talking about our visit.

Wren stopped her. “You still haven’t told me what happened to Paul. Was he in a fight?”

I slid into the chair next to Christy and filched a carrot. “Sort of. It was pretty one-sided, though. Just two hits.”

Wren’s eyebrows twitched up.

“He hit me and I hit the ground.”

Her eyes widened even further.

“It really wasn’t that bad,” I said. “Christy’s brother Rich and I had a little disagreement.”

“What about?”

I grinned at Christy. “You wanna tell her or should I?”

“I sort of fell asleep in Paul’s bed.”

Wren’s reaction was a perfect mix of glee and amusement.

We told her the story in pieces between us. We left out the part about fooling around, but Wren wasn’t stupid. She could read between the lines, and her expression practically glowed with delight.

“Anyway,” I finished, “that’s how I got the shiner. Rich and I sort of reached a truce after that. He doesn’t like me and I don’t really like him.” I shrugged an apology at Christy. “But we aren’t actively trying to kill each other, so that’s something.”

“Rich likes you fine,” Christy said. “He’s just protective.”