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“All the more reason to never ask for babies again,” she jabbed as we worked our way to the restaurant entrance.
“I could stop traveling if that would?—”
“No babies,” she cut me off without giving my hope a chance to rekindle.
Not even two seconds inside the restaurant, which was frequented by politicians and other elitists, we ran into a group of people Rebecca knew, but also . . .
“Diana?” I wasn’t sure how I even recognized her. It’d been three years and I’d encountered an ocean full of people since, but?—
“Diana,” Rebecca echoed, confirming I was right. She pulled the girl in for a hug, clearly still feeling the effects of the wine, because she wasn’t a hugger.
Diana’s eyes met mine over my wife’s shoulder, and they narrowed, as if maybe trying to remember my name.
“Ambassador Mackenzie,” I greeted, nodding to Diana’s mother as Rebecca detached herself from Diana.
“Not an ambassador currently,” Susan Mackenzie corrected me. She told the hostess she’d join her dinner party in a minute, and the suits she’d been with walked away to their table, leaving her and Diana there with us.
“Congrats on nearly finishing your grad degree,” Rebecca said, saving me from making small talk with Susan Mackenzie. “Any thoughts on where you’ll go when you finish? We’d love to have you.” She laid on her signature win-anyone-over smile I knew all too well. “Correction. I would love to have you at Barclay Energy. We only have a small piece of the environmental saving-the-world pie right now, but with the right people, such as yourself, we could truly make a difference.”
Diana peered at me for a moment, and while it was my job as a CIA officer to read people, the blank expression threw me off. “That’s very kind of you. I’m not sure what I plan to do next, but I’ll?—”
“She’ll be pleased to consider working with you,” Susan cut her off, then tipped her head toward the exit. “May I steal Rebecca away for a moment?” At my nod, she asked, “Watch over my little girl and keep her company while we step out, will you?”
“Mommmm.”
I did the math. Diana had to be twenty-four now. But I supposed in the eyes of a parent, she’d always be a little girl. I’d never get to know what that felt like firsthand.
I didn’t humor Susan with an answer. There was no point in embarrassing Diana by offering to watch over her like we were in Baghdad at the height of the war instead of inside a crowded restaurant.
When my wife and Susan stepped out, I turned toward Diana and she whispered, “You remember me?”
I nodded, not sure why I didn’t verbally answer.
She fingered the collar of her baby-blue silk blouse, then pushed a hand through her blonde hair.
Do I make you nervous? I shouldn’t.
“I’m visiting for Easter weekend. Mom dragged me to dinner here with some ‘friends’ of hers.” She wrinkled her nose as if embarrassed by the air quotes she’d used.
To make her feel better, I finally spoke up with air quotes as well. “I’m here for Rebecca’s ‘friends,’ too.”
When she smiled at my response, I couldn’t help but smile back. It felt good after barely smiling in months.
“Kind of wondering if Mom knew Rebecca had reservations here tonight, though. Feels planned, huh?” She shrugged, and before I could answer, she said, “Mom told me you’re no longer in the military.” She shook her head. “That came out of nowhere, sorry.” When she looked at me again, she clarified, “I may have asked about you once or twice. Just to make sure the man who saved my life was still . . . doing okay.”
“Define doing okay.” Fuck, where’d that come from? Her blue eyes flew to mine, and I lifted my hand in apology. “I’m not operating, no.” Not exactly. “But that was nice of you to care about how I’m doing.”
“You must do something you hate now. Your eyes . . . they’re sad.” I lost sight of her blue ones when she hid her face behind her palm and mumbled, “I’m so sorry.”
I reached for her wrist and gently removed her hand from her face. “Government work. You’re right. I hate it.” It felt good to finally admit it out loud and not feel guilty. Maybe the words flowed because she was pretty much a stranger, and it was usually easier to open up to people I doubted I’d see again.
“So, I should turn down the internship the Department of Energy is trying to recruit me for when I graduate? Work for Rebecca instead?”
I wanted to bark out that she should absolutely say no to both a government gig and working with my wife, but who was I to tell this girl what to do? “Not all work with the government gives you sad eyes.”
“Well, I hate yours makes you sad.” Her lip caught between her teeth as she stared at me with those innocent baby blues.
Maybe it’s not just because of my work.
