Elliot didn’t know how to respond to that. Instead he said, “I’m very pleased to meet you, Ms. Hale. Hudson has told me a lot about you.”
“All lies I’m sure.” She waved a hand around. “And please, call me Gloria.”
“Gloria,” Elliot repeated.
Taylor studied his face. “I have a thousand questions.”
Elliot looked at her. Then at Gloria. Then back at Taylor. “The resemblance to Hudson is uncanny,” he said.
Taylor beamed. “Is that a compliment?”
“More like an observation.”
“I’ll take it as a compliment.” She fell into step besidehim as Gloria steered them gently toward a less crowded section of the hall. “So. First question….”
“Taylor,” Gloria said.
“Shush, Mom. This is important.” She turned back to Elliot. “Did you know? Before he did?”
“Know what?”
“That he was mad for you. Did you clock it first?”
Elliot considered this for a moment. “Yes.”
Taylor grinned. “Uh, I’m sure he hated that. How long before?”
“A while.”
“How long is a while?”
“Okay. I’ll get us some coffees,” Gloria said, very tactically withdrawing from whatever this was. She shot Elliot a brief, apologetic look and then she was gone.
Taylor was already onto her next question, talking so fast Elliot’s ears made this—by now familiar—whooshing sound. But here he was, in the middle of JFK arrivals, being talked to by a woman who shared Hudson’s eyes and his complete disregard for conversational pacing and found, to his own mild surprise, that he liked it.
He was mid-answer when Taylor’s eyes went past his shoulder.
“Oh,” she said, softly. Entirely unlike her previous register.
Elliot turned.
Hudson came through the arrivals doors with his bag slung over one shoulder, still in uniform, scanning the hall with obvious military precision. Elliot watched him search, left to right, right to left. When Hudson’s eyes found him he came to a halt.
Elliot’s heart skipped a beat like it had been doing regularly since Selection. And would most likely never stop doing.
He looked tired. Six-months-of-deployment tired. It lived behind the eyes and in the set of the shoulders, and was not the kind that sleep could fix. He’d lost some weight and his hair was blonder than usual.
He was the best thing Elliot had seen in his entire life.
Elliot crossed the hall and Hudson met him halfway. They threw their arms around each other. Hudson pressed his face into Elliot’s neck and breathed him in.
“Hey,” Elliot said into his hair.
“Hi.”
Hudson leaned back far enough to study his face. His hand came up to the side of Elliot’s face—the right side, where the bruising had been—and his thumb moved once across his cheekbone.
“You look good,” Hudson said, leaning in to kiss him. Right there in the middle of the arrivals hall. Elliot didn’t care who was watching. “God, I missed you.”
