AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Chapter 3
- HARRIS -
In retrospect, I’m thinking my neighbor wasn’t even sure if she wanted me sitting at her dinner table tonight.
When it comes down to it, I’m not sure why I jumped so quickly at the invitation.
It must be the chicken and dumplings.Homemade chicken and dumplings sounds like heaven to a guy who’s been eating too much fast food while I’m traveling or something that originates in a box in the brief spells that I’m at home.
Or it could be the kid.
There was something so sincere about his invitation, as though he was almost desperate for me to say yes.I’ve been in the Navy long enough to recognize a kid who’s got a missing parent for long stretches.It gets to me every time.
Behind him, a Christmas tree is illuminated with tiny colored lights.Its branches hang, low and tired, weighed down by about twice as many ornaments than are appropriate for its size.Yet it looks right for some reason here, in this house where every corner is jam-packed with holiday decor.
“Your decorations are pretty amazing,” I say, directing the compliment to the mom.Still, it’s the kid who, grinning ear to ear, responds before the woman can even open her mouth.
“MomkillsChristmas every year.”
Her laugh is a little hesitant—or just humble.“My son tells me that’s a compliment.”
“It is,” he assures her.“Youslayit.”
“Also a good thing,” I note.
“You’re gone more than the others,” the kid says suddenly.
“The others?”
“The other renters,” he specifies.
“Oh, yeah, I probably am.I have to travel a lot.”
“Cool.Where are you going to move after Annapolis?”
I shrug.“Not sure yet where they’ll send me.It’s still six months out.Though there’s been some talk about Riyadh.”
“Where’s that?”he asks.
“Saudi Arabia.”
“Whoa,” he breathes out as his eyes widen.“Do you fly on a C-130?”
I chuckle.This kid has definitely done his homework.“No.I haven’t flown on a C-130 since I was a SEAL.Usually they’ve just got me crammed into coach on a civilian flight now.”
“That su—stinks,” he corrects himself immediately, not even sparing a glance in the direction of his mother.
“Are you kidding?It’s great.Flying on a C-130 is no fun—believe me.So you want to be in the SEALs?”I guess, an appropriate assumption since he’s riddled me with questions about my former career path from the moment I walked through their door tonight.
“I can’t.The Navy won’t take me because of my heart.”
Myownheart literally skips a beat.What?
The kid barrels on, without pause.“But I’m really good with computers so I want to work for the FBI or the NSA or the CIA.”
“All very good choices,” I somehow manage to answer.
His heart is bad?I never would have guessed that, seeing as Nicholas seems like a very stereotypical kid.A little on the small side, but full of energy and imagination.I fight the urge to glance over at his mom to get some kind of vibe from her.
