Chapter 5
But underneath the humor was something heavier.
He kept looking at me differently.
Not impressed.
Not exactly.
Recalculating.
After dinner, I helped Mom carry dishes into the kitchen.
She waited until we were alone.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
I rinsed a plate.
“Tell you what?”
“That you’re…”
She struggled for the word.
“Important.”
I turned off the faucet.
That hurt more than Frank’s comment.
“Mom.”
“What?”
“I told you I worked in defense intelligence.”
“I know, but I thought—”
“I know what you thought.”
She looked ashamed.
“I didn’t mean it that way.”
“You did.”
“Tanya.”
“I’m not angry.”
And surprisingly, I wasn’t.
“I just don’t know what else I could have told you.”
She looked toward the dining room.
“Frank always made it sound like you were…”
“Administrative?”
Her face answered.
I dried my hands.
“And you believed him.”
“I suppose I did.”
“Why?”
She didn’t have an answer.
I kissed her cheek.
“Pie?”
She nodded quietly.
Frank was waiting for me outside.
I found him on the back porch wearing his coat, watching freezing rain gather along the railing.
He held out a mug.
“Coffee.”
I took it.
“Thanks.”
For a while, neither of us spoke.
Then he said, “Reeves was one of my best captains.”
“I know.”
Frank looked at me.
“Of course you do.”
I smiled.
“He speaks highly of you.”
“He apparently speaks highly of you too.”
“Apparently.”
Another silence.
Then Frank said, “I owe you an apology.”
“You don’t have to—”
“Yes.”
The colonel voice.
I let him continue.
“I was disrespectful.”
I looked at him.
“I’ve been disrespectful for years.”
That surprised me.
“I assumed because you weren’t military, you didn’t understand military operations.”
“A lot of people make that assumption.”
“I also assumed because you never corrected me, I was right.”
“That happens too.”
He stared out at the yard.
“Why didn’t you correct me?”
I thought about giving him an easy answer.
Classification.
Professional discretion.
Family peace.
All were true.
None were complete.
“Because I shouldn’t need an impressive title before you listen to me.”
Frank turned.
I continued.
“If I had been an administrative assistant at DIA, telling me to ‘leave it to the men’ still would have been disrespectful.”
His jaw tightened.
Not defensively.
Because he knew I was right.
“You’re right.”
“And honestly?”
“Yes?”
“You wouldn’t have believed me anyway.”
He winced.
That told me enough.
“I might have.”