Page 68 of Leave

“Oh for fuck’s sake. Let me guess—he changed his tune after 9/11?”

Nolan pursed his lips, then wobbled his hand in the air. “When the wars started after that, he stopped with the ‘you’re just serving during peacetime, you pussies.’ Unfortunately, he replaced it with how we were probably going to go to those wars, then come back and act like we’d been in the jungles of Vietnam.”

I raised an eyebrow. “So he thought… we couldn’t be traumatized or whatever?”

“He’s…” Nolan sighed. “I don’t know. His whole identity is based on what a badass he was, and honestly, I think he was kind of butthurt when he realized he couldn’t hold ‘I served during an actual war’ over people’s heads anymore. So he just made up whatever shit he could think of. Like we were all fighting from farther away because of drones and long-range missiles instead of up close and personal like in Vietnam.”

I made a disgusted sound and took a swig of my soda just to rinse out the bitterness in my mouth. It didn’t help. “So what you’re saying is, I shouldn’t tell him about almost getting blown up on convoy duty?” My own comment thumped against a nerve I didn’t like acknowledging, but the reaction wasn’t too bad.

Nolan’s eyes widened. Then he shook his head. “I wouldn’t recommend it. Don’t tell him war stories unless you want to get one-upped or dismissed.” He looked toward the living room and shook his head, and when he spoke, he sounded like he was talking to himself more than me: “They say to pick your battles, and that’s not one I’d suggest picking.”

“Duly noted,” I said.

As we returned to the living room and wandered among other family members, I stole a few glances at Uncle Rick. He was animatedly explaining to everyone listening how they were wrong about how and why the Breakers were going to get eliminated from the playoffs, and people just nodded along, their eyes saying,“yeah, yeah, we get it, Uncle Rick.”

He pinged as obnoxious and self-absorbed, and I got the impression Nolan preferred him in very small doses. Nothing about their interactions said Uncle Rick was the creepy uncle, though.

And it didn’t necessarily have to be an uncle. Could’ve been a cousin. A family friend (there were a few of those here today).

Hell, it could’ve been a creepyaunt. I’d worked in law enforcement long enough to know women were just as capable of committing abuse as men.

Nothing about Nolan’s body language gave anything away with anyone, though. There were some relatives he clearly liked more than others—he laughed raucously with a couple of cousins, and he was cordial with another. He regarded one of his aunts like a stranger—friendly and polite, but not overly familiar—and then hugged another and smiled broadly while he talkedwith her. Just normal family stuff; close to some people, less so with others.

If the person who hurt him was here, he was keeping that card very close to his vest.

More people started arriving. Despite my struggle to keep names and faces straight, I was pretty sure I could be counted on to remember the key players, which were Nolan’s parents, brothers, and sisters-in-law. Or, well, I would if I could tell them apart, because apparently those Tyler family genetics were strong. Nolan wasn’t the only son who was the spitting image of John. The youngest of the three, Matt, had longer hair and a trimmed beard, but the resemblance was still uncanny. Same eyes, same build.

The eldest, Andrew, was the last to arrive, and he was a slightly heftier and grayer version of Nolan. They were similar enough that I was grateful for Nolan’s ink, not to mention the tan from living on Okinawa, to really distinguish them.

Andrew was also the only of the three who had kids. His daughter, Zoe, had the same brown hair and bright blue eyes as her dad, uncles, and grandfather. The boys, Charlie and Henry, seemed to take more from their mother’s side. Charlie was dark blond with blue eyes, and Henry was platinum blond. Their mom, Leann, was a tall blonde woman who’d clearly given Henry his hazel-bordering-on-green eyes.

After I’d been introduced to Andrew’s family, Leann turned to Nolan and spread her arms. “Gumby! It’s been forever!”

Nolan’s expression darkened. “Don’t call me that.”

She tsked and rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Give me a hug.”

Though he seemed incredibly reluctant, he hugged her. As he let her go, he said, “Leann, this is Riley. My boyfriend.”

She turned to me, her expression unreadable, but then she shifted to a bright smile. “It’s nice to meet you.” ElbowingNolan, she added, “About time this one actually brought home a boyfriend.”

Nolan didn’t look amused. Then he gestured at the covered dish his brother was carrying. “Do you want me to take that in the kitchen?”

“Oh. Yeah. Sure.” Andrew handed it over. “Thanks, man.”

Nolan grunted in acknowledgement and disappeared with the dish without saying another word. I watched him go, and I was about to follow him when Andrew asked me, “So you’re military too?”

“Yeah. Navy.”

“Oh, I was going to ask if you guys work together, but apparently not.”

“I mean, the Navy and Marines do work together sometimes.” I smirked. “Don’t you know what ‘Marine’ stands for?”

Andrew and Leann both eyed me.

I grinned. “My ass rides in Navy equipment.”

Andrew snorted. “Oh, that’s even better than Uncle Sam’s misguided children.”

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