I woke up thinking about making love to Kate, or more specifically, wanting to.  This was not a new thought.  In fact, it had plagued me with some regularity for weeks.  For all my new found ability to discuss anything with her, this was a subject I still couldn’t quite broach. 

She had commended me for venturing outside of my comfort zone if I wanted something badly enough, but I was at a loss on how to proceed on this.  I simply didn’t know the protocol. 

Normally, when it came to this, I knew exactly what to do and, frankly, how to do it.  But then normally there was no question of how any given evening would end.  Ah, that was then and this was now.  And although my need for her increased with an alarming trajectory, I didn’t want to apply any unwelcome pressure. 

I had been waiting for a signal of some kind, some obvious invitation.  The passion in her kisses certainly indicated the need for intimacy.  But still, she’d given no specific go ahead.  And without it, I was paralyzed.

As I twisted and turned these thoughts carefully like a prism in the light, my reverie was interrupted by my chirping cell phone.  Henry’s voice was a welcome surprise.

“Hey, Mum’s having a birthday dinner for me this Saturday.  Will you be in town?  Can you be there?”

I could hear the excitement in his tone - fourteen, at last.

“I wouldn’t miss it,” I beamed.

“It won’t be too weird for you?”

“Why, because of being there with Michael?”

“Nah, I was thinking because of Grandpa,” he scoffed.  “When was the last time you two were in a room together?”

“Been awhile, but not bloody long enough,” I grumbled playfully.
 
“You two will be civil, yeah?”

“Well, I can’t speak for your Grandfather, but I’ll be civil.” 

In truth, I couldn’t wait.  This would be the first time I’d seen the old coot without being somehow under his command.  In fact, now that he had retired, the dynamic between us was completely turned on its head.  This might actually be fun.  I couldn’t resist sharing a piece of it with Henry.

“Here’s a silly game to play when your Grandfather and I are together,” I laughed.  “He’s never called me ‘Terry’.  He always calls me ‘Thorne’.  And he says it with such distain that I always finish the phrase in my head – you know ‘Thorne In My Side’.  It makes it fun to hear.  Try and catch it during dinner, eh?”

“Can’t wait,” Henry groaned.  “Hey, can I ask a favor?”

“What’s that?”

“Were you coming up for the game on Sunday?”

“Of course.”

“Well, Michael’s picking me up on Friday after classes to bring me home.  But I need someone to take me back to school after the party so I can be here for the game.  I thought maybe you could drive me and just stay the night.  Give us some time together.”

“Absolutely,” I gushed. 

“Cool, dinner’s at 5:00 at Mum’s.”

“I’ll be there.”

As I pondered how spectacular it was to be invited by Henry himself, I realized this would be his first birthday occasion I had attended since he was little. 

What a difference a year had made.  I remembered that awkward conversation we’d struggled with over the phone almost a year ago.  I had called to apologize for sending his card to the wrong address.  (In my defense, he had switched academies while I was out of the country for three months.) 

We were strangers then.  I was just some image in an old photograph, sending an impersonal card and obligatory check.  His curt politeness had kept him at a protected distance as he wavered between apathy and resentment.

Now he was personally inviting me and asking for additional one-on-one time.  What a difference, indeed.

I muddled through a week of business meetings and glad-handing, counting the days until the weekend.  The birthday on Saturday and the game on Sunday would cap things off nicely.  But Friday evening always meant time with Kate. 

Sprinting up the front steps, I consciously tried again to quell my growing appetite for her.  But all my effort was useless once she opened the door.

I had never seen her look more alluring.  Her hair was uncharacteristically tousled, as if she’d been ravaged already.  Her blouse grasped her as tightly as I longed to.  Even her scent pulled me closer, making me hungrier for her than ever.    

“You look amazing,” I blurted, trying to keep my jaw from dropping open.   

“That was the look I was going for,” she purred as she pulled me inside.  “I figured out why you chose this particular necklace.  It requires a very low cut blouse.”

“Unintentional, I assure you, but it is beautifully displayed.”  As I futilely tried to focus on the necklace instead of her cleavage, I actually sensed my pupils dilating with desire.  No, it was dimness of the room.

“Candle light?”  I cocked my head, listening, “and soft music.”   And then it hit me.

“No children,” I concluded as a shiver zipped up my spine.

Her smile confirmed my deepest hope.

“We have the evening to ourselves?” I probed

She eased into me like a feline on a summer’s evening.

“We have the night to ourselves,” she cooed.

An instant of dizziness ensued as the blood rushed out of my head momentarily.

“No,” was all my debilitated brain could utter.

“Yes,” she countered playfully.  “They’re both away at overnight events and won’t be back until tomorrow afternoon.”

I shook my head to encourage blood flow.

“I don’t believe it,” I smirked.  “Lilly’s just setting us up.  She’s actually outside right now looking in the window at us.”

That giggle I craved so often descended from deep into sensual.

“I took her to the tram myself.  Besides, I figure it like this.  My bedroom is upstairs so she’d have to climb the tree to look in the window.  And I say if she makes that kind of effort, she deserves to watch.”

Bedroom.  She said bedroom.  I heard it distinctly.

I stammered like a school boy.  “S…so you have definite plans for us this evening?”

“Unless you object.”  She feigned an innocence that redirected my blood flow again.

“No, not at all,” I spouted quickly.  “I just…I didn’t want to pressure you in any...  I wasn’t sure you were ready for...”  Jesus, get it together.  “Are you sure?”

She sighed with a blissful enthusiasm I was hoping to inspire in her imminently.

“Have you any idea how much coordination it required to have them both gone on the same night?”  That giggle returned.  “Believe me, this is very premeditated.”

Her smile was simultaneously proud and naughty.

“I even bought condoms.  I didn’t figure you’d be carrying any.  I’ve never purchased them before.  I hope I did alright.”  Her voice dropped to a throaty whisper.  “I had no idea there were so many choices.”

The ache I’d been battling for weeks found victory in that moment and I allowed the defeat.  My arm captured her.  The fingers of my free hand weaved into her hair, securing their position.  My lips laid claim to hers.  We kissed as though we’d never had the chance before, deeper and deeper until only the need for air could part us.

“I was hungry when I arrived, but if you want to…”

“That’s the marvel of a crock pot. It’ll stay warm for hours.”

We snuffed out the candles and raced up the stairs like giddy teen-agers.
 
Her bedroom was a blur.  I honestly didn’t notice anything except the bed itself, which I led her to with a rather insistent maneuver.  Once seated on the edge, I began unceremoniously to remove my shoes.  She took hold of my hands to stop me and spoke.

“We need to talk a minute.”

“No, we really don’t,” I panted.

“I need you to know a couple of things,” she insisted.  “Please Terry, it’s important.”

This was a test of character, a cruel test, but one I vowed to pass.

“Okay.”  I took in a jagged breath, my eyes trying their best to convey undivided attention.

“It’s…it’s been a long time for me,” she confessed.  “I haven’t been with anyone since Jimmie.”  She shrugged slightly.  “In fact, I’ve never been with anyone except Jimmie.”

I knew this already, of course, and nodded tenderly.

“So I might not be….as…worldly….as the women you’re used to.  You might be a little disappointed.”

I shook my head.

“The other thing is…”  She took in a long breath.  “Whenever he came home on leave after having been gone quite awhile…the first time together…well, I always had a lot of pent up energy.  So things happened rather quickly… on my part, I mean.”

She smiled tentatively.

“So if you’re intending a long, slow seduction, it probably won’t go that way.”

I laughed out loud, unclasped her hands and encircled her briefly in my arms.  Pulling back, I looked deeply into those beautiful eyes.

“First, relax.”  I kissed her forehead.  “It’s just me.”

She smiled at the phrase I had called dismissive when she had used it previously.

“Second, stop talking.  Third, I think it’s wonderful you’ve only been with Jimmie.  It doesn’t surprise me, but that quality is rare.”

Rare?  That kind of commitment and loyalty?  I’d never seen it before.

“You’re unlike any woman I’ve ever been this close to.”  I brushed the hair from her shoulder.  “And I’ve certainly never had one alert me that she might peak too quickly.”

“I just want it to be special,” she whispered.

How could it be anything else with her?

“Listen,” I said quietly. “It’s been a while for me, too.  Not years, but certainly longer than I’m used to.  I have a bit of pent up energy myself.  So if we’re fast and furious the first time, we’ll slow it down for the second.”

Her eyes and lips opened wide.

“The second?  I told you - it took incredible planning to get them to be gone on the same night.  I don’t know when I can arrange this again.”

“I meant the second time tonight.”

Her surprised silence was followed by an endearing series of fragmented stutters.

“You can do that?” she marveled.  “I mean…I’m sure you can.  It’s just that I’ve never… I mean, I could accommodate you…but I don’t know if…”

I wrapped my arms around her again and whispered in her ear.

“We’ll be fine.”

“But Terry, really…”

“We need to be quiet now,” I interrupted.  “After all, kissing was invented specifically to prevent either person from being able to talk.”

Our eyes met and simmered in joint understanding that our bodies needed to take over. My fingers responded with swift action as I unbuttoned her blouse.  She reached behind to unclasp the necklace, but I shook my head and whispered.

“Leave it on.  But only that.”

She licked her lips too quickly for my mouth to catch her tongue.  But the kiss that ensued stole the breath from me.  I sniffed in heavily to restore my lungs and caught that scent – the scent she had used to test my memory, the scent she had worn the night we first danced.  That night flooded back into clear view and the overriding image that consumed me was the smattering of freckles on her exposed shoulder.  I had considered them as proof she was, indeed, human and not some Goddess in my arms.  And now it became imperative for me to see them again.

I peeled her blouse away and there they were.  Why they struck me as so erotic, I haven’t a clue.  But seeing them again this close, awaiting my touch, available to me without guilt – well, let’s just say lust won the day.  I honestly meant to merely kiss them as though greeting a long lost friend.  But instead I devoured them as if they were dots of candy that would come right off onto my tongue and sizzle.

Our clothes seemed anxious to be rid of us.  I’d never torn open a pack and rolled on a condom with such deftness before.  We had leapt beyond want and found ourselves succumbing to need. 

The desire that had lain dormant for a decade had been bubbling just below the surface during these recent weeks of extended foreplay.  Now it became a force to be reckoned
with, a swell that surged just beyond my control.  And as it rose up, overtaking us, we clutched each other and surfed the tidal wave together.

She was timid one moment, hungry the next - an incredibly sensual combination.  My instinct to reassure her and yet indulge her appetites led to a flurry of smooth but frenzied moves.  Her throaty giggle became a guttural mating call. 

A long, slow seduction?  Not a chance.  Thank God she predicted a quick resolution.  I only hoped she would beat me there.  But what a glorious race it was.  Amid the slithers of sweat and gasps for air and groans of urgency and ache, our symphony of passion finally found its cymbal crash and we arrived together, exhausted.

Once we caught our breath, we rolled slightly apart, still touching, still connected.

“Oh My God,” she puffed.  “You’re even better at that than you are at dancing.”

“Well, it’s an extension of the same thing, isn’t it?”

“It is the way you do it.”

“The way we do it.  You’re a natural.”

Brushing the hair from her shoulder, I lightly kissed those freckles and then excused myself to the bathroom.  I disposed of the condom and rinsed myself off.  Pulling a fresh wash cloth from the shelf, I soaked it in warm water, wrung out the excess and brought it back to bed with me.

Slowly, softly, I eased the cloth over her skin, sliding it around the front of her neck, between her breasts, carefully around the necklace and down the center of her abdomen.  She purred her contentment.

I perched the cloth on the nightstand next to the remaining condom packs and stretched out beside her.
 
“Do you like to be held?”

“Um humm,” she sighed.

“Good,” I whispered.  “I like to hold.” 

Her skin, still warm, nestled against mine as she squirmed into a comfortable wedge around me.  I wanted her again immediately, but this felt so right I couldn’t release her.  So I wrapped my arms around her, kissed the top of her head and reveled in the moment.  Even now I couldn’t believe it was real.  It felt natural.  It felt complete.  But that young man of ten years ago still giggled in my consciousness, “Kate Stanford.  My God.  I’m holding Kate Stanford.”

Silently laughing at this thought, I allowed my eyes to take in the rest of the room.  The décor was pure Kate, simple and elegant.  There was nothing pretentious, nothing too ornate - just a couple of chairs, a vanity with a mirror and a dresser with family photos on display. 

And that’s when I saw it – the picture of Jimmie.  Well, what did I expect?  Did I think she’d erase all trace of him as we moved closer to each other?  Here we were as one and he was still in the room.  The question became: was he still in her thoughts.  I gripped her tightly and asked.

“I need to know something and I…I want you to be honest, okay?”

“Hmmmm,” she murmured.

“While we were…were you thinking about him?”

She nestled her head into my chest and I could feel her smile.

“No,” she said, as if it had never occurred to her.  Her tone changed.  “Were you thinking about her?”

I’ll be damned.  No, I wasn’t.  Alice’s ghost hadn’t even wafted into my thoughts.  I was as surprised as I was relieved.

“No,” I grinned.

Kate pulled out of my grasp and propped herself on my chest so she could look into my eyes.

“Why, Terry Thorne,” she said playfully.  “I think this might be the first time we’ve actually been alone together.”

That realization created a smile that so encompassed my face, I could barely pucker my lips for a kiss.  Barely, but I managed.  We kissed more deeply and with more conviction than ever.  I could resist her no longer.  Our eyes met and that look of knowing crept across our faces, even before I could ask.

“Are you ready for a slow dance?”

“Hmmmm.  Please.”

This time we made love.  Smoothly, gently, taking our time, we nurtured each other.  My movements were tender and continuous.  I traced every inch of her skin, letting my hands wander freely as if they had a predestined path of their own. We lured each other to a place that belonged only to us.  We cherished each other, savoring rather than devouring.
 
This is what I had dreamed of, had waited for, had ached for - just to hear her breath rise and fall and feel it on my cheek, just to watch her face as we moved deeper inside of each other.  

Touch me – I need to feel every pore of your skin against mine.  Move with me – I can go deeper still.  Kiss me – quench the fire of my ache with your cool relief.

Bring me into your heart – share with me all that you are – graceful, elegant, strong, soft, wise, tender, forgiving, anguished, searching, patient.  And I will share all I am and all I can become in your arms.  We can weather any storm.  We will protect each other and care for each other and together build strength.  What we have is precious, but not fragile.

I surrendered to her eyes and everything they held – the secrets of what she needed, the promise of what she offered, the longing and completeness she felt.  We both were feeling it.  Both, together, united, as one.  It was possible.  It was happening.
 
The waves of passion rose steadily, insistently, until our bodies and our breathing moved as one. We arrived together, joining in a level of intimacy I had never even imagined.

I was overwhelmed with the very essence of her.  Kate: with a strength that had kept her solid as life had crumbled around her.  Kate: with a grace that had lifted her over the trenches of despair.  Kate: with a depth of loyalty and commitment I had never encountered before.  Kate: with a once-wounded heart that now beat with anticipation of a future filled with love and wonder. 

It was true – sometimes things beyond our control were breathtaking.  This feeling, this night, this moment – all unexpected, all beyond our control – had taken my breath away. 

And in that moment, when I felt warm and safe and needed, I knew.  I just knew.  I knew the possibility that I had only glimpsed in Tecala lay wrapped here in my arms.  I knew the emotion that had overtaken me there, but had left me questioning, was now being fully answered.  And, most importantly, I knew she reveled in the same euphoria.

I couldn’t hold it inside.  The waves overtook me and I had to say it, to say it aloud, as I had never done before.  Ever.  I took a deep breath.  This would be a first.  So I captured her gaze and whispered.

“Kate, I…” I swallowed hard and took another breath.  “I love you.”

She melted into me and then held my face in her hands.

“I love you, too.”

I could see it in her eyes.  I could hear it in her voice.  I could feel it in her touch.  A surge of happiness filled me up, heart and soul.  Kate loved me.  Imagine that.

We stayed entwined there, holding onto the moment as much as each other.  I listened as her breaths became deep and even.  Sometime after, I drifted off.  And when I awoke, I was still smiling.  We’d only catnapped, awakened by our hunger or perhaps a basic instinct to refuel. 

We said surprisingly little during dinner, somehow silenced by the lingering glow.  Soon after the meal, we drifted upstairs again just to hold each other, skin to skin. 

I felt myself slipping into a deeper sleep.  My arms cradled her tightly as I plotted a plan.  I would wait until she slept.  Then I would extract myself gently, wander quietly down to Brett’s room and spend the night there.  It had been awhile since I’d had the nightmare.  As reassuring as that was, it occurred to me that the time elapsed since the last one might actually increase the odds of having it.  These thoughts weaved vaguely in and out of my reverie, but the warmth of her skin against mine lulled me into a sedated comfort. 

When I opened my eyes, the sun snuck tentatively through the lace curtains.  I had slept all night with her.  No midnight exodus had taken place.  No nightmare had jolted me awake.  No fear of that possibility had kept me alert.  We had snuggled together, spooning one way and then the other, never parting, always touching.

In the morning we pried ourselves apart reluctantly.  Sharing the shower allowed us to become playful again and by breakfast we had returned fully to the planet.  But in our minds we knew we could find our hideaway - our own oasis of intimacy - again at will.  Our eyes discussed it without our sharing a word. 

So this is what it feels like to fall in love.  It was comfortable and astounding, all at once.  I had feared that intensity of this depth was only possible if fueled by the bittersweet sense of the last few hours together, as I had felt with Alice.  But this was deeper, not desperate.  Real, not wished for.  And I couldn’t wait to be with Kate again and again.

We kissed goodbye as she headed off to pick up the children.  I grinned all the way back to my apartment, the joy surrounding me throughout the afternoon. 

But life interrupted my bliss.  On the way to the birthday party I felt a shift into protective mode.  Soon I’d be confronting the General again.  Yes, a battle loomed on the horizon. 

***

I arrived at Penny’s precisely at 4:45 for the birthday festivities. After placing my bag of gifts with the rest, I wandered into the kitchen to see if I could be of help.  My natural affinity for doing dishes led me to the sink, which meant my back was to him when I heard that familiar voice.
 
“Trying to weasel your way back into his life, I see.”

The laugh escaped my throat even before I turned around to face him.

“General,” I exclaimed dramatically.  “My God.  Are you still alive?”

“Still a mercenary?” he growled.

Push away, old man.  It will be to no avail.  Truthfully, the difference in his appearance was so drastic I almost felt sorry for him.  Almost.
 
“Retirement suits you,” I counter-attacked.  “You look positively portly.  What a life you must lead - puttering in the garden and golf on Saturdays.  Must be a welcome relief from the pressure of actually having… power, eh?”

I was hoping to see a grimace at least, but he maintained his game face.

“He’s a bright young man.  He’ll figure you out.”  Ah, the unbridled animosity was still in tact.  “He’ll see right through you to the man underneath.”

“I’m counting on it.”

He stepped up the skirmish.

“I don’t want you trying to scare him off a career in the military just because you didn’t have the stones for it.”

This had never occurred to me but it was worth exploiting just for fun.

“Scare him?  Me?” I feigned surprise.  “I believe it was you who told him I’d been a prisoner of war.  I can’t think of a better way to scare off a potential recruit than the reality of capture and torture.  Thanks for that.”

He bellowed in his commander voice.  “He will join the service.”

I responded with the quiet insistence of a Drill Sergeant.

“Henry will be what he wants to be, with or without the service, and I’ll support him in whatever options he chooses.”

“You still haven’t got a clue about parenting, do you?  You don’t put the pressure of life decisions on a fourteen-year-old.  You give him clear expectations and help mold him into the man he can become.  But what would you know about fatherhood?”

That struck a nerve.

“I know enough not to put strings on my support and not to threaten turning my back on him if he makes choices against my will.”

He raised his chin in defiance, but I continued hammering the nail.

“You’re right.  He’s a bright boy.  He may well decide that your love for him is conditional and therefore worthless.  Then he might just turn his back on you.”

To illustrate my point, I turned back to the pre-dinner dishes in the sink.  But the battle wasn’t over.

“Would you care for a cigar?” he snarled.

Somehow the sheer audacity of it tickled my funny bone.  I turned to face him, shaking my head, holding back the full belly laugh it deserved.

“No, thank you, I smoke cigarettes.”  Striding the few steps toward him, I reached into my pocket.

“But may I offer you a light?”  I flipped open the lid, flicked for a spark, and held that lighter rock solid.  Peer as he may at my hand, searching for signs of trembling, there was none to be seen, even after he puffed the smoke at me.

“Thanks for not changing,” I grinned.  “I’d have been disappointed if you weren’t still a jackass.”

Henry’s voice from the doorway surprised us both.

“I thought you two promised to be civil.”

“We’re being civil,” I said affably.

He tilted his head at me.

“Jackass? Really?”  He directed his focus to the General.  “A cigar?  Really?”

I drew in a guilty breath, almost ready to be conciliatory, until Henry’s next comment to the General made my heart glow. 

Looking at the cigar, he sighed.  “By the way, he’s way over that.”

I bit my lip to intercept the laugh.

“Mum says I shouldn’t leave you two alone for long.  She says you should come mingle.”

“Good idea.”  I put my arm around Henry’s shoulder (yes, for the effect) and turned with him to leave the kitchen.  The General wanted the last word.

“This discussion is not over, Thorne,” he roared.

Henry smiled up at me, his face hidden from the General’s view, and slowly mouthed, “In My Side.”  He followed it with a ghoulish expression.  My laughter could no longer be contained.

“You’re right, General.  I imagine it will recommence once you’ve seen the gifts I’ve brought.”

Henry and I, still laughing, parted ways as we entered the dining room.  I spotted the General’s wife and slid up stealthily behind her.
 
“Good evening, Bridgette.”

She swirled around, smiling.

“Terry, you look wonderful,” she exclaimed as we briefly embraced.

“And you’re stunning as always.”

She motioned her head toward the kitchen and winked.

“Did you have a nice chat with the General?”

“I’m afraid I called him a jackass.”

“Must have felt good after all these years.”

I sucked in a dramatic breath.  “You’ve no idea.”

“Oh, but I do,” she laughed.

Our eyes shared a glowing moment of camaraderie.  She had always been a quiet ally.

“How are you adjusting to his retirement?” I smiled.

She shrugged.

“Well, he’s under foot too much, but I have several places I retreat to.”

For some odd reason, I felt an expected wave of sincere concern – for him.

“And how’s he handling it?” I heard myself ask.

“Not well,” she admitted.  “He’s a bit of a lion looking for his roar these days.  He may direct some of that at you tonight.”  She dropped her volume.  “Oh, I should warn you.  He brought a cigar with him.”

“Yeah,” I chuckled.  “He pulled that out in the kitchen.”

“Hence the ‘jackass’,” she nodded.

“Exactly.”

“Hope it didn’t bother you.”

“Nah.  Ancient history.”

She linked her arm in mine and we strolled to the living room.

“I spent some time with Henry recently,” she cooed.  “You were all he talked about.  He’s thrilled you’re back in his life.”

“Not half as thrilled as I am.”

“I always knew you had the makings of a good father,” she smiled.

Now that took me by surprise.

“Really?” I wondered.

“Um hmmm.  I could tell the night he was born.  You had the right sparkle in your eyes. You just had to grow into the role.”

I felt the need to apologize to her.  “I missed a lot of time with him.” 

“But you’re here now,” she reassured me.  “And he needs you.  Don’t get me wrong, Michael is wonderful with him.  But at this age in particular, he really needs you, too.”

An ally still.

My voice almost choked.  “Thanks.” 

She lightened the moment with a sly tone.

“He tells me you have a girlfriend.”

“I’m seeing someone, yes,” I nodded.

“Just one?”

I looked her resolutely in the eye.

“The one.”

“The one who makes you happy?” she asked.

I shook my head slowly.  “The one I want to make happy.”

She squeezed my arm with approval.

“My goodness, you have grown up.”

“Took me long enough.”

“That’s alright.”  She angled her head toward the General.  “Some men never do.”

Penny announced dinner was ready and requested we all join at the table.

“Sit beside me?” my comrade in arms whispered.  “Think how it will irritate him.”

“I think I’ll keep my distance,” I grinned.  “But I promise to call you Bridgette a couple of times.  That’ll get under his skin.”

The dinner went smoothly.  The General and I shared subtle sneers throughout, but there were no overt eruptions.  Until gift time, at least.

Henry had always talked about becoming a pilot, as far back as I could remember.  Since he had voiced hesitation about joining the service, I wanted to assure him that the military wasn’t the only option for flight training.

As he opened my gifts, his smile confirmed I’d made the right choices.  The first two packages were models for him to assemble of commercial, rather than military, airplanes.  They were impressively detailed and although not as sleek as fighter jets, certainly majestic in their design.  The General bristled at them, but I knew he’d be unable to contain his rancor once my final present was opened – a collection of catalogs from commercial flight schools. 

“Henry, I just wanted you to know,” I stated, “that there are ways to learn how to fly that don’t involve being shot at and that planes can be used to transport people rather than bombs.”

I could feel the General simmering so I continued, hoping to circumvent his objections.

“I’m on planes almost weekly and I have an incredible respect for commercial pilots, particularly their skill and the level of responsibility they have, not only to the passengers, but their families as well.  They literally have people’s lives in their hands.  It’s an important job.”

The General could hold back no longer.

“I doubt you want to take career advice from this man,” he growled, “particularly about the military.”  He looked at me and paused for punch.  “Or hasn’t he told you under what circumstances he and the service parted company.”

Damn.  He’d unleashed the big guns straightaway.  As always, I felt like I was being interrogated.  Any hesitation meant weakness. 

“No,” I said, resigning to the inevitable.  “We haven’t discussed that yet.”

The edge of his mouth curled up in triumph.

“Well, let me summarize,” he snarled, still looking at me but continuing to direct his comments to Henry.  “He resigned his commission because he had become ineffectual as a soldier.”

I winced slightly.

“A fair assessment?” he egged.

Bastard.  How did he manage to wound me with such acuity every time?  Another question he knew the answer to, another way to undermine me with my son. 

I cleared my throat.  “Yes, it is.”

His victory secured, he spoke to Henry directly.

“So you can either choose to listen to a man who failed midway through his career or to one who succeeded at the highest levels by becoming a General.  I think you’re smart enough to determine which path you’d rather follow.”

Pleased with himself, the old coot redirected his attention to the other guests and nodded his silent bow.  A quiet embarrassment overtook the room until people slowly began conversations among themselves to break the tension.

Henry slid up beside me and whispered.

“Is it true, what he said?”

His loyalty to his grandfather must have wavered just enough; he was willing to hear my perspective and trust it.

“Yes,” I said softly.  “But like all truths, it requires some explanation.  We’ll talk about it on the way back to school.”

Once in the car, he requested clarification, but not on that.

“I gotta know,” he started.  “Did you get those gifts to piss off Grandpa?”

I laughed.

“No, I’ve had them for weeks, long before I knew about a birthday dinner.  It was my intention to give them to you after the game tomorrow.  But I didn’t want to come to your party empty handed, so I brought them tonight.”  I paused to revel in the thought.  “Pissing off your grandfather was just an added bonus.”

“He really doesn’t like you.”

“And that won’t change, I don’t imagine.”

Henry lowered his head in frustration.

“Look,” I explained.  “He loves you and wants what’s best for you.  And in his mind, I’m a bad influence.”  My instinct to defend him should have caught in my throat, but it didn’t.  “I understand that.  I’d want to protect you against that, too.”

Fatherhood was becoming second nature now.  Bridgette was right; I was growing up.

He raised his head and angled it toward me cautiously.

“So…” he drew out the word to delay the full question.

But I waited to see how he’d phrase it.

“So when Grandpa said you were no longer an effective soldier was that because of camp?  Didn’t you get reinstated afterward?”

Here we go.

“No, I was reinstated.”

“He didn’t torpedo you at the hearing?”

I smiled at the memory.

“He tried to.  But he made a mistake. He based his objection solely on the divorce.  He maintained that if captivity had caused it, I might harbor some resentment against the service which would affect my abilities in the field.  The Major in charge of the proceedings had always been supportive of me and he knew the General would try to tank me.  He’d been looking for a reason to remove him from the review board. When the General made the divorce the basis of his argument, he also made his relationship to me pertinent.”

I could still see the subtle grin that crept over Major Marcus’ face as the General ranted on.

“Before taking the final vote, the Major called for a recess and consulted the regulations on familial conflict of interest.  He used that regulation to recuse the General, which took away his vote.  The remaining officers voted to reinstate.”

I didn’t have many warm memories of the General.  But when he realized that his strategy had actually dissipated his power over me, his facial expression descended the slippery slope from triumph to failure.  Recalling that particular look always brought a smile to my face. 

“It was a sweet victory snatched from almost certain defeat,” I chimed.  “The vote to reinstate had to be unanimous.”  I paused, wanting to linger in that moment awhile longer.  But I knew the larger question was still unanswered, so I paved the way.

“So, yes, I was reinstated.  I served two and a half years after that.”

“So what happened to make you leave?”

This was yet another subject I’d never articulated to anyone.  It occurred to me that explaining my past to Henry was forcing me to examine my own life.  I drew in a long breath and tried to put it in a context we could both understand.

“The way the military works, the only way it works, is that soldiers are trained to carry out their orders as given.  They can’t deliberate, make their own judgment calls, or question the wisdom of the directive.  They must instinctively obey.”

Henry narrowed his eyes, as if blind obedience was unacceptable.  So I clarified.

“They have to believe that their superiors are exactly that – superior in training, superior in experience, and most importantly, superior in their access to intel.  The man at the top sees the full picture.  The grunt on the ground doesn’t have that view.  So they have to trust that the top bloke knows what’s going on and what needs to be done.”

He nodded his head slightly.

“When you’re part of a unit,” I continued, “your focus is on accomplishing that mission and also on having the backs of your fellow soldiers.  Whether its peer pressure or loyalty or the need to be part of a team, the expectation is very clear and you want to live up to it in front of the others.  You also can’t let them down because that could cost lives.  So the importance of reacting quickly and instinctively as trained is imperative.  And the support of being in a unit is paramount.”

I paused to consider how to explain my metamorphosis, to him as well as to myself. 

“By the time I was reinstated my unit had been dismantled.  Two of the men were killed during the initial capture, one died in camp and as you know one died after we came home.  Instead of being reassigned to a new unit, I was given special ops missions as a lone field operative.”

Simultaneous waves of excitement and loneliness swept through my chest as I remembered those first few assignments.

“I would be dropped into a situation in deep cover, ferret out the target or targets and neutralize them.  When we had an ID ahead of time, the mission was usually pretty quick.  But sometimes the target wasn’t immediately clear, so the assignment could last months.  During that time I would form relationships with locals to acquire intel which would eventually lead me to the target and I’d complete the order.”

It sounded deceptively easy.  Should I continue understating the impact it had on me?  No.  Dig in.  Tell it all.

“During a couple of missions, while making those relationships, I allowed myself to become fond of some people I assumed were just benign sources.  On more than one occasion, that person turned out to be the target after all and I was forced to neutr….” Hell, just say it.  “To kill them.” 

A smattering of vague faces washed over me.  Closing my eyes only sharpened the images.  I took a breath, shook my head slightly and sighed.

“I guess that was the beginning of the end.  I started to feel like a paid assassin.”

Feel like it?  Hell, I was a paid assassin.

“Because I wasn’t privy to the highest levels of intel, I often had no idea why I was killing these people.  I started to wonder.  Then I started to question.  And when I was refused access to the answers, I started to doubt.”

The blind obedience had given way to a squinting quest for vision.

“It wasn’t enough to be told to anymore.  I didn’t just need an order, I needed a reason.”

It was a break down of trust, a chink in the armor, a failing in the system, a failing in me.

“I began to feel personal responsibility and regret, two things that should have been systematically eliminated in basic training.  My abilities were impaired by a sort of moral paralysis and I became…..less effective.”

There was no other way to say it.  Less effective.  Yes.  I cleared my throat to interrupt the feeling of shame.

“Around that same time, I met a man named Dino McBride.  He’d been in Special Forces with the American army, but had resigned over the same sort of dilemma I was dealing with.  He wanted access to the intel that determined the decisions being made above him.”

Picturing him all those years ago, I realized than none of the brashness had tempered with age. He was still as over-the-top as always.

“But with him, it wasn’t an issue of conscience.  I honestly don’t think Dino’s capable of moral ambiguity.  In his case it was more about ego.  He wanted to call the shots, not just take them.  So he had left the service and become a kidnap and ransom consultant.  He talked about how much more satisfying it was and started encouraging me to consider it.”

Those were long nights in the pub.  He was the oasis in the vast desert of my soul searching.   

“One night, over too many drinks, I told him I had been a prisoner of war.  He asked me what I wanted most when I was in camp.  I told him I just wanted somebody to get me the hell out of there.  So he gets his face real close to mine and says, ‘How would you like to be that guy instead?  How would it feel to be the guy who rescues the captives, the one who gives them back their freedom?’”

I laughed at the vision of his persuasive face, his insistent tone, his unavoidable dramatics.

“Well, that made it personal.  If I was ever gonna make something good come out of being at camp, this was the opportunity.  It would be my motivation, my fire.”  I nodded without meaning to, as if I suddenly understood something more clearly about myself in that moment.

“Dino arranged for a recruiter from his company, Luthan Risk, to come meet with me.  He told me about the skills sets required: Special Forces background, command of technology and weapons, working knowledge of the core languages and an ability to think on my own without directives from above.  It was also helpful, he pointed out, to have no ties to family or friends. This would allow me the freedom to be on a job for months at a time without being drawn back to some other set of commitments.  So it seemed the perfect fit.”

No ties.  No other compelling commitments.  That was me.

“I thought it over for a few weeks and came to the conclusion it would be best for me and for the British army.  So I resigned my commission and became a K&R consultant.”

I had never put it all together before.  Confessing to Henry had clarified the whole thought process.  It didn’t erase the initial shame I felt for my undoing as a soldier, but it traced the road that had led me here, to the man I had become.

His voice startled me.

“Have you ever regretted it?” he asked.  “Changing careers, I mean.”

“Never,” I heard myself say quickly.  Well, that was decisive. 

“You see, when you’re first in the army, you’re there for these grand reasons.  As you know I originally joined to get out of my house.  But somewhere during basic training I started to feel the nobility of it.  You were fighting to preserve a way of life and to secure freedom.  You were putting your life on the line to protect the country and its families.  It’s a big idea.  It gives you a sense a purpose you didn’t even know you were looking for.  I mean, you gotta die someday.  Why die for nothing when you could die for something noble?”

Yeah, it was a big idea - a first step toward seeing the world as something more important than a sum total of your own selfish ambitions.  But big ideas are often hard to maintain when confronted with day to day reality.

“The thing is, as a grunt you can be assigned somewhere for months, sometimes years, and not see any real progress.  You start to wonder what’s actually being accomplished.  It just goes on and on and becomes a way of life rather than a goal achieved.  You fight this nebulous thing called an enemy.  You don’t know why and you don’t see an end in sight.  Over time the nobility of it can fade.”

And fade, it had.  But I regained my focus elsewhere.

“In K&R work, you know who the bad guys are and what they’re doing that needs to be stopped.  You know they’re affecting the lives of civilians, people who didn’t sign up to take the risks a soldier agrees to.  It’s a clearer moral directive – definite innocents and predators.  And you can tell when it comes to its resolution – a definite before and after.  And when it goes right, it’s immediately rewarding.  When you’re able to reunite a family, it gives you even more than that sense of purpose.  For me, it gives me a renewed sense of triumph over captivity – mine as well as theirs.”

“You know,” Henry said quietly, “I never understood why you did it until you told me about camp.”

“Why I did what?”

“Why you travelled the world risking your life to free strangers, one person at a time.  Now I get it.”

He looked away as if embarrassed.

“But even when I didn’t understand it, I was always proud of you for it.”

That thought caught in my throat and choked out any audible response, so I just nodded quickly.  Henry.  Proud of me.  All along. 

There was a silence for a few moments, something we’d not encountered since our first conversations together.  I waited for him to break it.  And as usual, he did.

“So was your dad proud of you for joining the service?”

Now, there’s a good question. 

“I’m not sure.  Once he got used to the idea that I had left home without his permission, I think he might have had some pride about my being in the Australian army.  It was my joining the British army that about gave him a heart attack.”

“He had a heart attack?” he asked quickly.

“No, I meant that figuratively.”  I was picturing my father’s face as I broke the news, so I was unprepared for Henry’s next question.

“I’ve never asked you, but what did your dad die of?”

An innocent question.  A reasonable question.   A careful answer.

“You know, that’s a subject for a long conversation sometime,” I evaded.

“Well, we’ve got about half an hour left before we get to school, plus you’re staying the night.  So let’s start it.  What did he die of?”

Jesus, I had never even considered how to present this to Henry.  But I guess the time had come.

“I don’t know,” I said flatly, as I strategized how to explain the truth and the deception.

“You mean the cause of death was never determined?”

I cleared my throat.

“No, I mean I don’t know if he’s dead.”

His jaw literally dropped open a moment.

“What?”

“He might still be alive.  Your grandmother, too.”

An edge of anger replaced the initial surprise in his tone.

“I thought you said I only had one set of grandparents.”

“Well,” I sighed, “you had access to only one set.  Subtle difference.”

“Huge difference.  But why?”

“Because they’re not in my life and I’m not in theirs.”  Spell it out.  “I haven’t spoken to anyone in my family for the last...ummmm….fifteen years, I think.  I’m 37 and I was 21 then…ah, 16 years.”

“Bloody hell,” he shouted.  “What happened?”

I had actually discussed this once before with Alice.  So the words came more easily than I might have predicted.

“When I turned 21, my hitch with the Australian army was up and I made the decision to join the British Army.  I wanted to see some action and not much was happening in Oz.  My father is one of those Australians who hated the British.”

“So it was like you were playing for the other team?” Henry asked. 

“He took it more seriously than that.  It was more like I was fighting for an opposing army.”

“Australia was at war with Britain?”

“Only in his mind.”  I tried to laugh, but the image of his face prevented it.

“See our ancestors came from Ireland.  The Brits and the Irish don’t get on well, as you know. In his mind, if I was to fight the Irish, I might have been shooting at what he assumed to be distant relatives.  He told me I was so hungry for adventure, I’d kill my own family for it.” 

I could still hear him shouting, his eyes red with anger, betrayal, disappointment.

“He threw me out and told me not to come back.”

“So you never went back?”

“Never.”

“And you never tried to contact them?”

“Oh I tried,” I corrected quickly.  “I sent two letters to my parents, both were returned unopened.  I called my sister…”

“I thought your sister died,” he interrupted.

“That was my sister Emily.  I have another sister, Amy.”

“You mean I have an aunt, too?”  His eyes grew wider.

“Yeah.”

“Any uncles?”

“One.  Mark.”

“And cousins?”

“Probably many by now.”

“Jesus, I’ve got a whole family you’ve never let me meet?”

“They aren’t my family any more, so they’re not yours.”

He shook his head as if rattling the words around would somehow organize them into something that made sense.  Unsuccessful, he asked for more information.

“So you called your sister and….?”

“I called Amy a couple of times.  She and I were always the closest.  I figured that would be my way back in.”

“When did you call her?”

“The first time was the night you were born.  I was pretty excited.  I wanted to tell someone.”  I felt my fingers clutching the phone as I dialed, my breath held hostage in my lungs, waiting to hear her voice before it would be released.

“I left a message on her answer phone.  I gave her my phone number at the base and at our house and both addresses. Told her I had big news to share and to call me.  She never did.”

I hadn’t really expected her to call, but I watched the mail for weeks, hoping.

“The second time was four years later when I made Lieutenant.  I was proud of myself and wanted someone to share it with.  Same thing.  No reply.”

“Maybe it was the wrong number.”  Was he accusing or consoling me?

“It was her voice and name on the greeting.”

“And you haven’t called since?”

“No.  I got the message.  Her silence was loud and clear.”

“But…but haven’t you been curious about them over the years?”

“Sure.”  God, yes.  What would Amy look like now?  Did her husband still treat her well?  How many children did they have? Did Mark escape the same way I had and join the army?  I doubted it.  Not his style.  He was more apt to buckle under.  And what of mum?  Did she survive him?  Were they all still alive?

Henry’s insistence brought me back to the moment.

“But you didn’t do anything about it.”

“I told you, I tried.”

“So try again and try harder,” he bellowed.  “That’s what you used to say to me when I was little.”

I was taken aback.  “You remember that?”

“I remember more than you think.”

He was suddenly quiet, but a flurry of thoughts raced behind his eyes.

“I think you should call again.” Enthusiasm brushed away his anger and confusion as he hatched his plan.  “Better yet, let’s go down.  You and me.”

“Wait a minute.”

“It’d be great, wouldn’t it?”

“I don’t even know where they are for sure,” I stalled.

“Bloody hell, that’s a lame excuse.   That’s what you do for a living.  You find people.  You’ve got ways.”
 
Stop him.  Stop this whole thing.
 
“I just don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Why not?” he egged.  “You still scared of him?”

“I am not afraid of him.”  I sounded like a teenager.

“Coulda fooled me.”

Was I afraid of him or just of opening up that part of my life?

“I’m just not sure how they’d react after all these years.  I wouldn’t want to subject you to the rejection of it.”

“Hey, I’ve got nothing to lose.  If they don’t like me, what do I care – they’re just strangers.  But if they do like me, I’ve got a whole new bunch of family.”

Slow this down.

“Henry.”

“Besides, they might only reject you.  I mean, between the two of us, it’s fairly obvious who the more likeable one is.”

Finally, a smile.  Finally, a break in the tension.

“And if they reject us both,” his excitement continued, “it’ll give us more time to see the country.  I’ve always wanted to see Australia.  I’ve just been waiting for you to take me.  Hell, I’m half Aussie you know and I know nothing about it.  Wouldn’t you want to show me?  Wouldn’t you want to hang out that long with me?”

I pondered the thought - an extended trip to Oz with my son.  My smile eclipsed his.

“Actually, I’d love to.”

“So make the call.  Find them and put your toe in the water.”  He cocked his head dramatically.  “But watch out for crocs, eh matey?”

“Don’t start.”

“If they come at ya, just say g’day.”

“You’re gonna be unbearable about this, aren’t ya?”

“We’ll go on my next holiday, yeah?  We’ll take a couple of weeks.”

“We’ll see.”

His tone changed from playful to adamant.

“Look, when you first came back you said you owed me time and explanations.  Well, guess what?  You owe me a family. Pay up.  Just call them.”

“Let me sleep on the idea.”

Hell, I was already planning the trip.  Maybe we could skip the family part and just take in the sites.  Maybe I wouldn’t be able to locate any relatives.  Maybe I would call and they would say, ‘stay clear’ and we’d be on our merry way. 

Or maybe Amy would answer the phone, invite us down and meet us with open arms.  It wasn’t beyond the realm of possibilities, I suppose.

Suddenly my cell phone chirped.  Who’d be calling me this late?  Kate?  Was she alright?  I looked at the caller ID.

“Dino?” I answered.