Family Ties

“Why were you dating Simon?”

“Well, from how you describe him, he doesn’t really sound like the military type.”

She scoffed. “He wasn’t. He didn’t want anything to do with the military.”

“Then why in God’s name were you engaged to him?”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. I know you loved him, but…” I shrugged. “I guess I can’t help but wonder why you were dating him in the first place. Why take him home to meet your family when he doesn’t like the military?”

“Because he was my fiancé!”

“Whoa! Calm down. I’m saying this all wrong. Gimme a sec and lemme think.” I did just that for nearly a minute. “Okay, a bit of explanation first.

“Okay,” she said cautiously.

“It has to do with an ex-girlfriend,” I warned.

“That’s because I have several exes.”

I must have looked cute enough or guileless enough or something enough that she quit scowling and reluctantly grinned as well.

“Not-so-grumpy Birdy,” she conceded.

“Baby steps,” I said with a sideways grin. “Okay… back to my question.

So, Kendall was a psychology major. I heard a lot about family counseling,

“Okay…” She still wasn’t convinced.

“You know, like why do you go to work? To earn money to pay for things you want. That’s an obvious motivation. But why do kids misbehave?”

She thought about it and shook her head.

“Because they want their parents’ attention.”

“So that’s what I mean by a hidden motivation.”

“I still don’t see what—”

“I’ll get there. Hold on. I guess I want to know if you had any hidden motivations when you agreed to marry Simon.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“I loved him! At least… I thought I did.”

She scowled and didn’t answer.

“Look,” I said at last, “I guess this has more to do with me than you.

I glanced at her anxiously.

She didn’t say anything.

“Yes and no. But I thought I should talk to you first, ’cause it’s a big decision, and…”

“Well… I can see myself with you in the future. And it’d affect you too, so…”

Her eyes welled with tears. For a panicky moment I thought she was angry, but then I realized they were happy tears. Neither of us were ready to say it aloud, but we both knew why she was happy.

“So…” I said when she composed herself, “what do you think? Should I think about it some more or should I keep going with architecture?”

“Both!” I said with a laugh.

She laughed too. “The world’s first flying architect!”

“I can design my own targets!”

We laughed and made a few more jokes before we remembered why we were laughing in the first place.

“Do you really want to join the Navy?” she asked. “I’d support you a hundred percent if you do. I’d be proud of you.”

I heard something in her voice. “But…?”

I waited her out, and she eventually grimaced.

“Is that so bad? To trust someone enough that you don’t need to lie to them?”

I grinned and waited for her to turn serious.

“No,” she said at last. “I don’t want you to join the military.”

“Why not?” I asked softly.

“It’s okay,” I said with a laugh. “We’re not painting the baby’s room just yet.”

She nodded without looking up. Then she fidgeted. “Are you upset?”

“That you’re talking about having kids together?”

“No. That I don’t want you to join the Navy.”

I thought about it before I answered.

“I can get used to it if you want to,” she said into the silence.

“I… don’t think I do.” I fell silent and tried to put my thoughts into words. “I guess it’s one of those things that’s a childhood dream but isn’t meant to be a grown-up reality. If that makes sense.”

“I wanted to be a prima ballerina when I was little. But then I really started learning to draw and sculpt, and…”

“You fell in love with art.”

“That’s how I feel about architecture. I love the idea of building things.”

“So… I guess that’s settled.”

She nodded, and we fell silent. After a moment I rested my hand palm-up on the armrest between us. She put hers in mine and I squeezed gently.

We’d just made our first major decision as a couple. I didn’t know whether to be pleased or scared to death.

We made it home a little before one in the morning. Wren was waiting up for us, although she looked like she’d been dozing the moment before. She smiled tiredly and stood as we came through the front door.

“Welcome home. Did you have a—? Oh my God, what happened to your eye?”

“Oh, this?” I said disingenuously.

She looked at Christy in alarm. “Did things go okay with your parents?”

“More than okay. They loved him!”

Wren looked confused, but who could blame her? My left eye was still a livid purple that had only just started fading. The cut was healing well—Rich had given me good advice—but it was still covered with a bandage.