"
Yes. You can talk about that.
"
"
Good. Because I like good smells.
"
She leaned over to Matthew, and smelled his sleeve.
"
Yeah. You smell good.
"
"
Um
..."
He glanced at Summer, and she bit her lip--he imagined he must have a deer-in-headlights expression, because that
'
s how he felt--like he
'
d wandered into a world he had no preparation for.
"
We can talk about good smells, Emma, but we don
'
t smell people at the table.
"
"
Fine,
"
she sighed, and sat up.
"
Have some pizza Maffew.
"
"
Mister Matthew,
"
Summer said.
"
Mister Maffew.
"
"
Sorry, she
'
s very sociable. The teacher tells me she
'
ll talk to anyone.
"
He smiled.
"
I can tell.
"
"
I don
'
t talk to anyone, I only talk to people who smell good,
"
she said as she shoved another bite of pizza in her mouth.
"
We talked about strangers, and we
'
re not supposed to talk to them. But I can talk to you, Mister Maffew, because you
'
re not a stranger.
"
He met Summer
'
s gaze, and she rolled her eyes.
"
Thank you Emma, now eat your dinner.
"
"
Okay.
"
Summer took a drink of her tea as the waitress returned with his drink and he pulled a piece of pizza off the pie.
"
So what are you up to tonight, Hennessey?
"
she asked.
"
This is it. Go home, relax. Get up and do it again tomorrow.
"
She nodded.
"
But at least tomorrow
'
s Friday.
"
He shrugged.
"
There is that. I have the weekend free to do
..."
"
To do what?
"
she asked before she took a bite of her pizza.
"
Not sure yet.
"
He took a drink.
"
What are you two doing?
"
She swallowed.
"
This is tradition, right Emma?
"
"
Right.
"
"
Tradition?
"
"
We get pizza on Thursday night, and we
'
ll watch a movie tonight.
"
"
Frozen
!
"
Summer
'
s smile didn
'
t quite meet her eyes.
"
Yes, we can watch
Frozen
again.
"
"
Yeah!
"
The little girl started quietly singing some song about letting stuff go. From the strained look on Summer
'
s face, he figured she
'
d sang this song before.
"
Thursday night movie night?
"
he asked.
She nodded.
"
We watch a movie tonight, and tomorrow, after she gets out of summer camp at the YMCA, she
'
ll spend the night with Grandma Bettes, and I
'
ll pick her up after I get off work Saturday.
"
"
I love Grandma Bettes! We have popcorn. And candy for breakfast--
"
"
What?
"
Summer snapped.
Emma grinned.
"
I
'
m just kidding Mommy. Though she did let me have a cookie after I ate my sausage one time.
"
"
Lovely,
"
Summer said, not sounding like she thought it was very lovely at all.
He raised his eyebrow.
"
Grandma Bettes has been known to give her about anything she wants.
"
"
Yep!
"
Emma said.
"
I
'
m her only granddaughter. So I
'
m special.
"
"
You
'
re very special, I bet,
"
Matthew said.
"
I am,
"
she said, puffing out her chest, and turning to look around the pizzeria.
"
And she works it, too,
"
Summer said.
"
I wanna go play video games!
"
"
Finish your piece of pizza.
"
"
Okay.
"
She went back to eating.
Matthew did the same, taking a couple of bites of his slice. He probably could have eaten the whole pie by himself, it was so good.
Summer jarred him from gorging himself.
"
So where are you stationed, if you
'
re just here training, Matthew?
"
"
Fort Hood, in Texas.
"
She nodded.
"
What is that, eight, nine hours from here?
"
"
Something like that. I think the last time I went back down, I did it in just under eight.
"
"
And you didn
'
t speed at all, did you?
"
She asked with a wink.
He grinned. Because, yeah, gotta beat the last time.
"
So are you married? Do you have kids?
"
"
No.
"
"
Why not?
"
she asked.
He shrugged.
"
Not much time for it. I
'
ve been,
"
he glanced at Emma
"
overseas a lot.
"
"
My daddy went over the sea,
"
she added.
"
But he didn
'
t come home. Maybe he missed his flight.
"
Meeting Summer
'
s gaze, he held his breath, unsure what she would say--what any parent would say about such a comment from a child.
What did you say? Really?
Was there anything that could comfort a kid in a moment like that? His gut coiled in pain for this little girl, and her loss. For her loss, and all the families who lost someone that horrible day.
And the guilt from being the one to survive the attack. Why would he survive the attack, someone with no family to return to, and a father and husband die instead?
The guilt was almost too much for him to take. He shifted in his chair. He really should get out of here. They didn
'
t need him.
He didn
'
t need to be here.
Summer, oblivious to his warring thoughts, spoke.
"
Well, Emma, remember, he went to heaven instead.
"
"
Right,
"
she said.
"
Is there visiting hours there? I heard a song on the radio about visiting heaven. Can we do that?
"
Summer shook her head.
"
It
'
s too far away.
"
"
Okay.
"
The tension that had coiled in Hennessey diffused as the little girl went back to what she was doing, like there was nothing wrong with the conversation she
'
d just had with her mother.
Summer, however, had that glossy look in her eyes again.
He reached over the table and brushed her fingers. Summer didn
'
t look at him, but she took his hand and squeezed it as she wiped her eyes with her napkin.
When their gazes did meet, he nodded, hoping, without words, to tell her that she
'
d done good handling that little moment. Not only for the little girl, but for him as well.
What had all the doctors told him? Life will go on. Whether we know why or not, it still would.
He glanced at the girl--such a reminder of Jake--and again felt guilt that he was here, and her daddy wasn
'
t. Turning to Summer, he didn
'
t envy the difficult road she had ahead without Jake, who
'
d loved her so much. He let go of Summer
'
s hand and took a bite of pizza as his mind traveled a million miles away, back to the desert, back to that hell on earth.
All Jake talked about over there was his Summer and his Emma. All the things he had planned when he got back, the stuff he wanted to do with them. Camping. Disney Land. Museums and picnics. Coloring.
Jake couldn
'
t wait to come home and color with his daughter.
Matthew
'
s eyes darted to the coloring sheet under Emma
'
s plate and the open package of crayons on the table.
Matthew hated himself, because he was here, and Jake wasn
'
t.
"
I
'
m done! I want to play video games!
"
Emma
'
s declaration jarred him, and he almost spilled his soda.
Summer glanced at the corner where the games were. There weren
'
t too many kids over there.
"
Sure honey.
"
She pulled out a stack of quarters.
"
I can do it by myself,
"
she said, and grabbed the six coins.
"
I
'
m rich!
"
she said and headed the twenty feet to the games.
He could see her perfectly from his seat, but Summer had to turn to see her. She twisted and watched for a second then got up and took Emma
'
s seat. Her gaze remained locked on her daughter.
"
You did good handling that.
"
He scooted his chair over, making a little more room for Summer.
"
Thanks.
"
"
She seems like she handles it okay.
"
Summer grabbed a breadstick and tore a piece off.
"
She has days where she really misses him. Then there are days where it
'
s like she doesn
'
t notice he
'
s gone. He
'
s been gone most of her life.
"
"
She was, what, three, when he died? Seems like that
'
s what he told me, his kid was three.
"
He bit back a choke in his throat, and hoped she didn
'
t notice.
If she did, she didn
'
t say anything.
"
We used to video chat when we could, and I have pictures of him in her room, but I don
'
t know that she remembers him much.
"
She glanced at him.
"
Though the smell thing is new. She
'
s never mentioned that, but it does explain why after he died, she would go get his shirts and curl up with them, like they were blankets.
"
Her eyes shined again with unshed tears.
"
I
'
m sorry,
"
he said.