Chapter 4
Nobody moved.
Frank continued more quietly.
“Then another guy asked if he meant my niece.”
He looked at me.
“Reeves said, ‘Your niece? Frank, Granger has briefed people you used to salute.’”
Silence.
Pure, absolute silence.
Tyler’s smirk disappeared.
Jason stared at me.
Mom blinked several times.
Frank wasn’t finished.
“There’s another message.”
“Frank,” I said.
He stopped.
I held his eyes.
“Be careful.”
Two words.
That was all.
But something in my tone must have reached the colonel he used to be.
His posture changed.
He nodded.
“Understood.”
And he put the phone away.
Tyler looked between us.
“What the hell does that mean?”
“It means,” Frank said slowly, “we change the subject.”
Naturally, nobody changed the subject.
Jason lasted eleven seconds.
“So you brief generals?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Colonel Reeves did.”
“I’m not responsible for Colonel Reeves’s Thanksgiving messages.”
Mom stared at me.
“Do you work with the military?”
“Yes.”
“I thought you wrote reports.”
“I do.”
Frank laughed once.
There was no humor in it.
“Oh, I’m sure she does.”
Mom looked confused.
“What’s funny?”
Frank rubbed his forehead.
“I just spent twenty minutes explaining operational complexity to a senior DIA officer.”
Tyler spoke.
“She said senior?”
Frank looked at me.
“You are senior, aren’t you?”
I took a sip of wine.
“I’ve been there sixteen years.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“And I’m not discussing my position at Thanksgiving dinner.”
Frank stared at me for another second.
Then something remarkable happened.
He nodded.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Jason nearly choked.
I looked at Frank.
“Don’t do that.”
A tiny smile appeared.
“Fair.”
Dinner never recovered.
Mom tried.
She brought out pumpkin pie and announced it with the desperate enthusiasm of someone trying to restore civilization through whipped cream.
Nobody cared about pie.
Jason kept staring at me.
Finally he asked, “Have you ever been in one of those rooms?”
“What rooms?”
“You know.”
“No, Jason. I don’t.”
“The rooms where they decide things.”
I smiled.
“Very specific.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I probably do.”
“And?”
“And I like pumpkin pie.”
Tyler leaned forward.
“Have you worked with special operations?”
Frank cut him off immediately.
“Stop.”
Tyler looked surprised.
“What?”
“She’s not going to answer that.”
“How do you know?”
Frank looked at him.
“Because unlike the rest of us, she actually understands what she’s allowed to say.”
I almost laughed.
There was something deeply satisfying about watching Uncle Frank become my security officer.