“I can only assume so.” She’s back in full chaos mode, outrageously silly and fun. “There must be paperwork somewhere.”
“I’d like to see that paperwork.”
“No, you wouldn’t. My Aunt Jules has all the important family documents in color-coded files in their home library in a fire safe the size of a Toyota. It’s very intimidating.”
We’ve nearly reached the barn by now and have slowed down to match the pace of the other guests filing through the door.
“Your Aunt Jules sounds like a control freak if she insists on keeping the paperwork for the entire family at her house.”
“Oh, it’s really just the four of us: her, my Uncle Pete, my brother Max, and me.”
“You were raised by your aunt and uncle?” I ask, because I’m realizing now that she’s never mentioned her parents.
“Only after my parents died. They took Max and me in.”
She says it like it’s no big deal. Just drops it into the conversation. I instantly want to know more, but that’s how Tavey is. It’s how she talks. Sprinkling in details like confetti. I can tell from her tone that this isn’t the moment for more details, so I let her keep talking.
“Oh, you should meet Max!” she says as though the idea has just occurred to her. “You’ll love him. He’s brilliant. Like, really smart.”
By now we’ve reached the door, so I hold it open for her. “Tavey, you know you’re really smart, too.”
She scoffs and shakes her head. “No, I mean, really smart.”
“You’re one of the smartest people I know.” And I know a lot of smart people. Some people think that intelligent people don’t join the military, but there I’ve found the opposite to be true. A lot of really smart people serve because it’s a way for them to get an education they couldn’t afford otherwise. And what’s true for the military is doubly true for special forces. I don’t say any of this aloud, because it’s a conversation we’ve had before.
Besides, she’s beaming at the compliment. But then adds, “No, he’s really smart. Like McPherson Fellowship, smart. It’s this grant?—”
“I know what the McPherson Fellowship is.”
“Ah, then you know what I mean.”
I could keep arguing the point because I know better than most how wickedly fast her brain works, but I don’t. Because McPherson Fellows are the kind of people they make PBS documentaries about. I make a mental note to check out her brother’s Wikipedia page. If he is at that level, he shouldn’t be toohard to track down. Reading about him would be an easy way to learn about her past without stirring up painful memories. A way to satisfy my curiosity without pushing too hard.
She must take my silence the wrong way because she starts babbling. “I mean, not that you want to meet my family. I wasn’t implying… I just meant that I think you’d get along. Not that you need more friends or anything.”
I put my hand on her back to steer her toward the receiving line as I say, “I’d love to meet your brother.”
She meets my gaze for a moment, a smile flitting around her lips, as she nods. “Okay.”
Then she glances down, and her gaze lingers a beat too long on my chest before skittering away.
I notice.
Of course I notice.
If she keeps looking at me like that all night, I’m not going to make it.
Her own gaze drops to my vest again. “So… just out of curiosity, was the shirtlessness your idea or is this, like, historically accurate?”
“I did some image searches.”
“Of course you did.” She nods solemnly. “Research-based sluttiness. I respect it.”
The laugh this pulls out of me is louder than Iexpect. A couple standing on the porch of a nearby barndominium glance over.
Tavey beams, clearly pleased with herself.
Christ, she’s cute.
