Page 80 of Girl, Deceived

Mia took off her jacket and moved to the dining table. She watched as Martin set a plate in front of her, loaded with fluffy pancakes, crispy bacon, sausages, toast and a side of scrambled eggs. He sat across from her, pushing a steaming mug of coffee her way.

‘The works,’ Mia nodded, impressed.

‘You told me this was your favorite once upon a time, somewhere to the tune of twenty years ago. I’ve got a good memory.’

Mia chuckled as she twirled her fork in the syrup. ‘Well, you're full of surprises. It feels like a lifetime ago since I had a meal like this.’

There was a brief silence, the soft jazz in the background filling the gap. Martin sipped his coffee, watching Mia as she picked at her food.

‘So?’ Martin asked.

‘So?’

‘Are you going to fill me in or what?’

‘Bit early for that, isn’t it?’

Martin gave her a sarcastic eyebrow-raise. ‘You know what I mean. Your trip to the Golden State.’

With a mouthful of pancake, Ripley said, ‘You ever see that film, Hellraiser?’

Martin pondered the question. ‘I don’t think so.’

‘Me neither, and it’s staying that way. And if I ever flirt with the idea of going to California again, shoot me in the head.’

‘Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve done that,’ Martin laughed.

Before retiring ten years ago, Martin had been an FBI agent out of Baltimore. Before that, a rifleman on the Iraqi frontlines. He still suffered PTSD from both, but Mia rarely touched on the subject.

Martin looked puzzled for a moment, but then his eyes softened. 'That bad, huh?'

‘I can’t talk about it, even to you. You know how it is.’

‘I do. As long as you’re back and safe, I’m happy.’

Mia looked down, jamming her fork into her meat. ‘Thank you, Martin. It’s nice to have someone who understands.’

Martin reached across the table, placing his hand over hers. ‘You're not alone, Agent Ripley. Whatever you’ve seen, I’ve probably seen it too.’

She looked up, her eyes misting over. ‘I appreciate that. More than I can express.’

‘Let's make a pact, then. Whenever things get too heavy, whenever the shadows of the past loom too large, we'll sit down, have breakfast together, and remind each other that there's still good in the world.’

Mia couldn't help but laugh, as cheesy as his comment was. 'Deal. And, just to be clear, breakfast at any time of the day? Even six AM?'

‘Absolutely,’ Martin winked. ‘Especially if it means I get to spend more time with you.’

‘Alright, you’re making me sick now.’

‘Blame the bacon. Never said I was agoodcook.’

Ripley hadn’t realized how much she’d missed being at home. ‘Four months,’ she said. ‘Four months and it’s Mia Ripley, last survivor of the class of ninety-one, signing off.’

‘Last survivor? Really?’

‘It’s a line from Alien. But yes. Thirty of us graduated the academy, twenty-nine are gone in one way or another.’

‘Quite a statistic,’ Martin said. ‘Four months and we’ll make it hundred percent.’

---