Sam dug enthusiastically into a big carton of chocolate-chip mint. His earlier shyness had faded somewhat, now that they were all settled back in at home, in familiar surroundings. Maybe Sam had just needed a little time to get used to seeing his dad again?
Ford hoped that was the case. “Sam, you better enjoy this,” his mother said. “You’re not getting ice cream for dinner every night.”
“We aren’t?” Ford said through a mouthful of Rocky Road, provoking giggles from Sam. “Why not?”
Elle rolled her eyes. “Sam, how do you have a ten-year-old for a father? How is that mathematically possible?”
After ice cream, it was time to put Sam to bed. His room still had same blue wallpaper, adorned with rockets and blazing comets, he and Elle had picked out four years ago. Pencil markings on a wall charted his growth. Although Elle had been needed to help Sam into his pajamas, Ford had insisted on tucking his son into bed himself. But first he had to clear off a menagerie of toy soldiers, tanks, and dinosaurs from atop the covers. He couldn’t help smiling at the toys, which reminded him of the same ones he’d played with as a child—before his mother died and everything went to hell.
Don’t think about that now
, he scolded himself.
Concentrate on today… and Sam.
“See this one here?” He plucked a green plastic soldier from the bed-slash-battleground. “That’s a lot like Daddy in his uniform, but mine’s way cooler. We need to go to the toy store, find you a Navy man. How ‘bout that?”
Sam nodded happily, grinning up at Ford, as his dad tucked him in.
“Alright, big man,” he said, mussing the boy’s hair. “Hit the rack.”
Sam cuddled in beneath the covers. “Can you sing the dinosaur song… like Mommy?”
The dinosaur song?
Ford was baffled—and acutely aware of long he had been missing from his son’s life. “Not sure I know that one.”
He looked to Elle for help. She smiled at him from the doorway, letting him fend for himself, just like he’d insisted.
Captain Freeman was right
, he decided.
They really don’t train us for this.
He got up to leave. A worried look came over the little boy’s face.
“Dad? You’ll be here tomorrow, too, right?”
Ford winced at the anxiety in his son’s voice.
“Yeah, buddy. I told you. The next two weeks are all yours.” He reluctantly retreated toward the hall, where Elle was waiting. “Now get some shut-eye, okay? I’ll still be here in the morning.”
“You promise?”
Ford leaned in and gave Sam a gentle peck on the forehead. He wished there was more he could to do to reassure his son. He knew what it was like to have a father you barely knew anymore.
“You bet,” he promised.
* * *
“—so by this point, he’s literally buck naked with his jock strap on his forehead, a banana in his teeth, hooting like a monkey—and
that’s
when our C.O. steps in—and I swear to God, looks him right in the eye, not skipping a beat, goes: ‘At ease, Lieutenant.’”
Elle doubled over, giggling hysterically, as Ford acted out the anecdote for her entertainment. They had the lights on dim in the kitchen and a half-empty bottle of wine rested on the table between them. Ford knew he ought to get some sleep—he had been traveling nonstop for over a day now—but he and Elle had a lot of lost time to make up. She struggled to catch her breath, laughing so hard tears leaked from her eyes. Ford cracked up, too.
He came around the table and pulled her close.
“I missed your laugh,” he said, relishing the feel of her against him. “My last roommate honked like a mule.”
She melted into him. The familiar scent of her hair stirred his memories.
“I missed you, too,” she said.
Their laughter gradually subsided, but he kept holding onto her, unwilling to let her go. Back on tour, while disposing of explosive ordnance, there had been more than a few tense moments when he’d thought he’d never have a chance to hold Elle
Ford hoped that was the case. “Sam, you better enjoy this,” his mother said. “You’re not getting ice cream for dinner every night.”
“We aren’t?” Ford said through a mouthful of Rocky Road, provoking giggles from Sam. “Why not?”
Elle rolled her eyes. “Sam, how do you have a ten-year-old for a father? How is that mathematically possible?”
After ice cream, it was time to put Sam to bed. His room still had same blue wallpaper, adorned with rockets and blazing comets, he and Elle had picked out four years ago. Pencil markings on a wall charted his growth. Although Elle had been needed to help Sam into his pajamas, Ford had insisted on tucking his son into bed himself. But first he had to clear off a menagerie of toy soldiers, tanks, and dinosaurs from atop the covers. He couldn’t help smiling at the toys, which reminded him of the same ones he’d played with as a child—before his mother died and everything went to hell.
Don’t think about that now
, he scolded himself.
Concentrate on today… and Sam.
“See this one here?” He plucked a green plastic soldier from the bed-slash-battleground. “That’s a lot like Daddy in his uniform, but mine’s way cooler. We need to go to the toy store, find you a Navy man. How ‘bout that?”
Sam nodded happily, grinning up at Ford, as his dad tucked him in.
“Alright, big man,” he said, mussing the boy’s hair. “Hit the rack.”
Sam cuddled in beneath the covers. “Can you sing the dinosaur song… like Mommy?”
The dinosaur song?
Ford was baffled—and acutely aware of long he had been missing from his son’s life. “Not sure I know that one.”
He looked to Elle for help. She smiled at him from the doorway, letting him fend for himself, just like he’d insisted.
Captain Freeman was right
, he decided.
They really don’t train us for this.
He got up to leave. A worried look came over the little boy’s face.
“Dad? You’ll be here tomorrow, too, right?”
Ford winced at the anxiety in his son’s voice.
“Yeah, buddy. I told you. The next two weeks are all yours.” He reluctantly retreated toward the hall, where Elle was waiting. “Now get some shut-eye, okay? I’ll still be here in the morning.”
“You promise?”
Ford leaned in and gave Sam a gentle peck on the forehead. He wished there was more he could to do to reassure his son. He knew what it was like to have a father you barely knew anymore.
“You bet,” he promised.
* * *
“—so by this point, he’s literally buck naked with his jock strap on his forehead, a banana in his teeth, hooting like a monkey—and
that’s
when our C.O. steps in—and I swear to God, looks him right in the eye, not skipping a beat, goes: ‘At ease, Lieutenant.’”
Elle doubled over, giggling hysterically, as Ford acted out the anecdote for her entertainment. They had the lights on dim in the kitchen and a half-empty bottle of wine rested on the table between them. Ford knew he ought to get some sleep—he had been traveling nonstop for over a day now—but he and Elle had a lot of lost time to make up. She struggled to catch her breath, laughing so hard tears leaked from her eyes. Ford cracked up, too.
He came around the table and pulled her close.
“I missed your laugh,” he said, relishing the feel of her against him. “My last roommate honked like a mule.”
She melted into him. The familiar scent of her hair stirred his memories.
“I missed you, too,” she said.
Their laughter gradually subsided, but he kept holding onto her, unwilling to let her go. Back on tour, while disposing of explosive ordnance, there had been more than a few tense moments when he’d thought he’d never have a chance to hold Elle
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