All the Right Moves(12)

Grabbing the carafe, John poured himself a cup as he answered. “Well, if it ain’t Captain Sam Brody. What’s up, Jaws?”

“I was expecting your voice mail,” Sam said, then paused. “Where are you?”

Hell, he wasn’t going to lie. “Home. I just rolled out of bed.”

“Alone?”

“Uh, yeah...as far as I know.”

Sam laughed. “Must’ve had a hell of a night. Isn’t it noon there?”

“Wait.” Coffee sloshed over the rim onto the counter. Cursing, John ripped off a paper towel from the roll suspended underneath the upper cabinet. “Just spilled my first cup of joe. Not a good start.”

“Want to call me back later?”

“No, I’m good.” He disposed of the towel and carried his cup to the living room. He stationed himself at the window and stared at the distant clear blue sky over Nellis. “What’s going on?”

“I got my new orders today. They’re sending me to Holloman. I’ll be teaching newbies how to pilot MQ-9 Reapers.”

“Now? Why didn’t they wait until you re-upped?”

“What? I signed last week.” Silence lapsed long enough for John to realize he’d stuck his foot in it, then Sam asked, “I gather you haven’t.”

“Nah, not yet. I’m on a short leave to take care of some loose ends. So how you feeling about being an instructor?”

“It’s fine. It’ll be good.”

John had a lot of things he could have said about that, but he didn’t. If Sam was cool with teaching, then he was glad for him. “When do you report?”

“I’ll be taking some leave myself after I make the move, but that won’t be for about a month. I haven’t actually finished my training here. You know who lives in Alamogordo, don’t you?”

“Emma.” John pictured Danny’s widow the day of his funeral. Pale, too slender in a plain black dress, trembling, her body jerking every time a rifle fired into the air in farewell to Captain Daniel “Woody” Lockwood. “It’s been three years. She might have moved by now.”

“I don’t think so.”

“So you’re going to see her?”

“I don’t know. I think so, but...the last thing I want to do is open an old wound.”

John sighed. “That’s a tough one, buddy. She made it pretty clear she preferred to be left alone. But that might’ve been grief talking. If it were me, I’d at least give her a call.”

“That’s what I was thinking. She can always hang up on me.”

“Emma wouldn’t do that.” John smiled. She was a nice lady, pretty, patient with Danny, who, in the pursuit of a good time, often forgot he had a wife. “But a call gives her an easy out.”

“If it goes well, I’ll offer to buy her dinner and do some catching up. Hey, maybe you could hop a flight sometime. See my new digs?”

“Very possible.” John sipped his coffee, but still couldn’t hold back a yawn.

“Man, don’t you just hate when sleeping till noon wears you right out?”

John laughed. “Gee, Dad, it wasn’t a school night.”

“So...what do you think...you staying at Nellis?”

“I don’t know.” That was the truth. If he traded his uniform for civvies, the private pilot gig he was offered would keep him on the move.

“They talk to you about testing the F-35C?”

John turned away from the window and back to the kitchen. He hated even the mention of the F-35C. It was Sam who deserved to be in the cockpit, not teaching drone pilots because of his less-than-perfect eyesight.

“You there?”

“Yeah, I’m here.”

“Look, Devil, I’m good with what I’m doing. No need to backpedal. Would I like to get back in the air? Damn straight I would. But that’s gonna take a miracle. So quit it. You didn’t make the rules.”

“Yeah, yeah.” John sighed, wishing he knew what to say. Wishing he knew what the hell he wanted to do for the next twenty years. “My housekeeper will be letting herself in any second, and I’m standing here in my skivvies.”

Sam laughed. “Go.”

“I’ll call you later.”

“Make it sooner.”

“You got it.” John disconnected the call, noticed he had a message waiting.