Page 91 of My All American Girl

“What about you?” he asked, leaning back in his chair. “I know Mo well. He was who I looked up to most during my training. He took me under his wing, and I wanted to be just like him. I heard a few stories about you, and when I say a few, I mean hundreds. Never anything too specific. But he was always telling me you got an A on this test, or he took you flying, stuff like that. He said you were following in his footsteps.”

“That was my goal.” I nodded. “He told me about you, too.”

Talking about my father made me sad. After he ignored me pretty much my whole visit home, I wasn’t sure where our relationship stood. It was still a very sensitive topic. He never gave me a chance to explain.

“What about the rest of your family?” he asked.

“There’s my younger sister, Meg. My mother is the typical doting mom and military wife. We’re a happy nuclear family, but the chaos of being a military family and moving around a lot to follow my father’s career was always a constant. She got very used to being mom and dad. She could fix just about anything on her own. My mom was always the quiet one, but she knew how to get stuff done. When Dad would come back after a deployment, she would always smile and tell him everything was great. My dad, I think he knew it wasn’t always great, but he had to provide for the family. It was his job.”

I hesitated, the words catching in my throat when I remembered how my dad would come home and tell us all about what he had seen and done while he was gone. I used to hang on to his every word.

Dean reached across the table, his hand warm over mine. “What’s wrong?”

I took a deep breath. “It’s my father. When I was home for the weekend, he told me he’s starting to doubt if I can really handle this. He said a career in the Air Force isn’t for hot-headed kids who can’t control themselves.”

Dean’s brow furrowed. “He can’t see past the breach of protocol, even when you clearly did the right thing. It’s unbelievable.”

“He won’t hear me out,” I said. “He thinks I’m going to blow it. He doesn’t see me as serious about being a pilot. He said the Air Force doesn’t need people like me.”

Dean’s expression softened. “I think our parents, especially the ones we look up to, have a difficult time seeing us as anything other than their little kids. Maybe he’s not as cool with you up in a jet as he thought he was going to be. It was one thing when you were in school but now you’re on the cusp of being a fighter pilot.”

“I don’t know,” I said. “I think he truly believes I can’t control myself.”

“My father never saw me fly. He was bedridden by the time I started training. But I remember how his eyes would shine when I would tell him about my dreams of becoming a pilot.”

“But your dad wasn’t discouraging you from being a pilot,” I said, feeling the sting of my father’s discouragement.

“No, he wasn’t,” Dean agreed. “But he did express worry about whether I could cope with the pressure and he made me promise to quit if it ever became too much. I guess, in his own way, that was his method of discouragement.”

He was right. “You think that’s what my dad is doing?” I asked, quietly.

“I think he’s scared,” Dean replied softly. “Seeing the aftermath of the fight probably terrified him. Parents always want their children to be safe.”

I shrugged, trying to keep my voice steady. “I’ve just never felt this kind of negativity from him before. And he knows me better than anyone, right? So maybe he’s right. Maybe I’m not cut out for this. I thought I was doing the right thing but Rolley got hurt. What if that happens in a combat situation? What if someone doesn’t come home because of me?”

“No.” He shook his head. “You did the right thing. And the whole point of this training is to prepare you for real world situations. Let us worry about getting you combat ready.”

“The general thinks I’ll never be ready,” I said.

“Parents only know parts of their children. They can’t see the whole picture, and it’s not because they’re not looking. It’s because we are different versions of ourselves with them compared to who we are with other people. You’re a badass. I’ve flown with you. I know you’re good. He might not be able to see you through clear eyes.”

“I don’t know about that.” I sighed. “It’s just not something I’m familiar with. It’s so weird.”

“If your father had walked into that room and saw how you handled yourself when you knew someone was in trouble, I think he’d be singing a different tune. You did the right thing, Sarah. Don’t let him make you think otherwise. I wasn’t thrilled to hear you went all Rambo, but I understand why you did it.”

His words meant more to me than I could express. “Thank you, Dean.”

He smiled, the kind of smile that reached his eyes. “Anytime.”

Our meals were delivered a few minutes later. The lasagna looked fancy enough to take pictures of, but I didn’t want to spoil the moment by pulling out my phone. “Wow,” I said.

Dean nodded. “It looks amazing.”

For a while, we ate in silence, each of us lost in our own thoughts. The food tasted as good as it looked, and it momentarily distracted me from the turbulent emotions that had been stirred up talking about my dad.

“Something about a good meal just soothes the soul,” I said, trying not to talk with my mouth full. “It probably helps that the meal’s in London.”

He chuckled. “Pretty cool, huh?”