Page 60 of Smith

Fucking hell.

“First, you didn’t wuss out. We had no idea what was under there. The smart thing to do was exactly what you did—let me look first. And even if it was you who found the box, I still would’ve had to look.”

She didn’t look convinced and I had no way of reassuring her so I changed the subject.

“Your dad okay?”

“I didn’t tell him about the pictures,” she admitted. “His squadron is in the middle of high powers and I didn’t want to lay more on him. But he talked to Zane earlier and one could say your boss has a big mouth so he had a lot of questions about you.”

Jesus.

Fucking Zane.

“What kind of questions?”

“The kind that included wanting to know your full name, last duty station, rate, rank, and your last LPO.”

I wasn’t sure why Aria was smiling but I was glad for it.

“You should see your face right now.” She laughed. “I’m kidding, he already knew your rate and rank because Zane informed him. All he asked me was if you were taking good care of me. I told him you were and I was safe, then spent the rest of the time bitching about having to replace perfectly good drywall since Zane told him about that, too. He was relieved no more letters had been delivered. Then he told me about work, bitched about a new pilot who thinks he’s the next Maverick, meaning his ego is writing checks he’s not capable of fulfilling, and he’s pissing off the two female pilots, who in my father’s words can and will eat him for lunch, so after speaking with the females and them asking for permission to put the hotshot in his place—which my father gave—he’s confident they’ll knock him down a few pegs.”

Jesus, the woman barely had taken a breath.

“I could tell he was worried but he trusts Zane, and by extension, you. That doesn’t mean he didn’t put in for leave. But you know how that goes.”

I sure as hell did.

Hurry up and wait while your request chit went up the chain. Though the Captain was a few links higher than I was so his wait time wouldn’t be as long as an E-nothing Sailor.

“Bet you’ll be happy to see your dad.”

Her face gentled and she waited until she finished chewing and swallowed before she said, “Totally. My dad’s not just my dad, he’s my best friend. After my mom died we were both lost. Thankfully, instead of us each being lost on our own, we rallied and depended on each other.” She stopped and shook her head. “Sometimes I feel guilty for leaving when I did. He still had months on his contract. I wanted to wait for him to get neworders but he insisted I didn’t delay college. Selfishly, I left. I was in a hurry to start my life. I was in a hurry not to be under Uncle Sam’s strict rules. But now I wonder if it was the right thing leaving him alone, you know?”

No, I didn’t know. I had a shit father who by the time I was a teenager I barely remembered. And a mother who was more concerned about drinking herself to death than she was taking care of her boy. She’d finally succumbed about a year after I left for the Navy.

“Is your family close? I mean geographically.”

Fuck.

I knew that was coming.

My brain was working double time trying to come up with ways to dodge her question and it was coming up blank.

Christ.

I was doing this.

“My dad bailed when I was a kid. I didn’t see him much growing up and my mom died before I turned nineteen.”

Compassion. So much of it had leaked into her features I felt like a fraud. I didn’t deserve that sympathy.

“My mom died a week before my seventeenth birthday. Drunk driver on base.”

Her mom died at the hands of a drunk and mine was a drunk.

“You miss your mom,” I gently said.

It wasn’t a question but she still answered, “Every day.”

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