Family Ties

I realized I was about to get the “What are your intentions…?” grilling.

“Don’t keep him too long, dear,” Anne said to him. “He’s had a long trip.

He and Christine probably want to relax a bit.”

“Oh, he looks like a sturdy young man.” He gestured for me to precede him.

I walked down the hall and felt a shiver of fear and determination. I was about to step into the ring with a smarter, stronger, quicker, tougher opponent. He outclassed me in every way, yet I wasn’t going to back down. I couldn’t. Not now, not ever.

I barely saw the dining room on my right. The front entryway loomed at the end of the wide hallway, and a small part of me wanted to walk straight out and never look back. A double doorway to the right opened onto a formal living room. Harold’s office was on the left, behind a pair of pocket doors.

I turned in and automatically scanned the mahogany-paneled room. His “I love me” wall was full of photos and service plaques and commendations.

The wall on the left was lined with built-in bookshelves behind an antique desk. The front half of the room was arranged as a sitting area, with a leather couch and two matching wingback chairs in front of a large window.

“Have a seat.” He gestured at the couch and slid the doors closed. Then he opened a small liquor cabinet. “Whiskey all right?”

“Yes, thanks.” I sat and took a deep breath. My skin prickled with another surge of adrenaline.

Harold handed me a glass of amber liquid. Then he sat down in one of the chairs. He swirled the ice in his glass, took a sip, and rested it on the arm of the chair.

“I won’t beat around the bush,” he said. “I’d like to know your intentions toward my daughter.”

I actually laughed. I couldn’t stop myself.

“You think this is funny?”

I wiped the smile off my face and took a long drink of liquor. It burned going down and focused my attention. “No, sir,” I said at last. “It isn’t funny at all. The timing is. I thought you might get to know me first, or wait till right before we left. I didn’t think you’d ask straight out. Sir.”

“With all due respect, sir, that’s between Christy and me.”

He cocked his head to the side and studied me. He looked so much like an older, craggier version of Christy that I almost laughed. Again.

“You’d better explain,” he said at last.

I took another deep breath and a sip of whiskey. I wouldn’t have been able to speak otherwise. “I like your daughter,” I said. “And she likes me. I don’t know about our long-term prospects, but I’d like to find out. I think she would too. Sir.”

“What makes you say that?”

“I’m here, aren’t I?”

His eyebrows twitched the barest fraction before he controlled them. He

had years more experience than Christy, but I could see where some of her temperament came from.

“I don’t mean to sound arrogant, sir, or cocky.”

“Then you need to work on your approach.”

“Enlighten me,” he said with an economical gesture. His expression didn’t change, but he sat back in his chair and took a sip of whiskey.

“If Christy didn’t think we have a future, why invite me here?”

“I like Danny a lot. I just met the rest of you.”

“And you think that telling me to mind my own business, especially where my daughter is concerned, is going to score points with me?”

“And you thought ‘sooner’ was the better option?”

“No, I don’t think I would.”

“What would you think if I were a young Ensign who’d just stood up to you on principle?”

“I’d have you court-martialed for gross insubordination!”

It was my turn to stare at him.

He narrowed his eyes and studied me. “You’re a cool one, all right.

Danny said you were.”

“Not really. I’m scared out of my wits right now,” I admitted. “My mouth is so dry I can hardly speak, and I’m pretty sure I have more adrenaline in my blood than oxygen.”

He actually laughed at that, the first crack in his stern façade.

“But I’m willing to stand up to you because I think your daughter’s worth it.” I gave him a moment and then continued, “I once read that courage is

grace under pressure. I don’t know if I’m being graceful or not, but I know for a fact that I’m under a lot of pressure.”

“So you think you’re demonstrating courage? As Hemingway said, grace under pressure?”

“I do, sir. I thought about this a lot when I accepted Christy’s invitation.

From what she’s said about you, I kinda thought we’d have this conversation.

You just… seem like the type, sir, if you don’t mind me saying so. And you’re pretty damn intimidating.”

He nodded agreement.

“But I came here anyway. I walked into your office, even knowing what I was about to face. And then I looked you in the eye and told you something you didn’t want to hear. If that isn’t courage, I don’t know what is.”

He thought about that for a long time.