He recognized the signs, and he took several calming breaths, centering as if about to begin a training bout, so when Amelia asked what color of ball he wanted, and Olivia shouted “Yellow, to match his eyes,” his eyes were NO longer that color when the bored teenage boy who had been ogling his thirteen year old daughter turned towards him, the eyes did not distract from the aura of violence directed at someone stupid enough to look at his daughter like that in front of her parents. When his hand snapped out to hand over his American Express, the kid paled and flinched.
“Th-th-that will be thirty-nine dollars, ss-sir.
Brett just smiled, and the kid started to sweat, while Amelia started to chuckle lightly behind him.
Olivia looked up from the card describing the three “courses” and said, “Let’s play the Horrors Of Hollywood. Hey…what’s so funny?”
“No idea, better ask your Mum, or you can just march ahead and prepare to lose.”
“Yea, right not a chance.”
As she went first, the ball barely missed the hole before bouncing back to stop a foot short. “Hah, take that,” before dancing around the hole.
Brett said, “Ladies first.”
_______________________________________
They’d ended up playing all three courses before heading to the go-cart track, where, they raced until the place closed at midnight. While Olivia won most, but not all. These weren’t exactly unfettered, high performance devices.
After, they’d walked back to the docks, stopping at the gelato place which warranted a “It’s not exactly ice cream, but it’s pretty good,” from Olivia, which was uniquely painful and pleasing to Brett’s ears.
Once back aboard, Brett quickly navigated then back towards the harbor, even then, by that time Olivia was sprawled across the bench, asleep.
Amelia stood next to him, and he realized she was shivering in the mostly bare shouldered top she was wearing. He quickly shed his sports jacket, draping it around her shoulders which prompted a whispered thank you while at the same time revealing the custom should holster and the handgun it held.
“You still carry one?”
“What? Oh, yea. “Oliver’ is licensed, and well, more people understand that threat than they do yellow eyes, fangs and unseen strength.”
“Cover within a cover, still then.”
“Some habits die hard, both good and bad,” he said, smiling sadly.
She looked, truly looked at him, for a long time before sitting down next to their daughter and pulling her close.
_______________________________________
When they returned to the docks, Amelia tried to get Olivia up, “Come on, sweetie, you’re too big for me to carry, get up baby.”
After a few attempts and some muttered imprecations, Brett intervened, “I can take her.”
He bent over, and easily pulled her into his arms, standing straight where she turned slightly wrapping her arms around his neck, and lost in dreams, saying sleepily, “I love you Daddy.”
Amelia saw the wetness shine in Brett’s eyes before he jumped to the dock and strode towards their room.
_______________________________________
He laid her very carefully in her bed, where Amelia took off her shoes, and he just stood, helplessly at a loss how to help.
After she was done with shoes and had pulled the blankets up, Brett spoke quietly, asking, “Can we talk for a few minutes?”
She nodded, obviously dreading another confrontation.
He led her across a large portion of the base to then climb the stairs to the roof over the library, looking out into the rolling waves of the Pacific, only the quarter moon and the stars illuminating the night sky.
She came to stand beside him, still wearing his jacket in the cool night air.
“Aren’t you chilly?”
“Not for a long time,” he replied.
He stood there for a couple minutes trying to figure out what to say.
She started, “Brett, I…”
As if just needing to be reminded, he says, “Thank you for tonight. I…enjoyed it and…..” before stumbling to a stop again.
She spoke up, “You did well. I’m sorry she keeps bringing up Dryse.”
“It’s what she knows, I know.” And the pain and longing in his voice is like a knife to the stomach.
“That’s not, exactly, what I wanted to talk about,” before pausing to take a shuddering breath.
Then the words started to flow, stuttering like a machine gun, as he hurried to get them out before he changed his mind, “I don’t know what’s real anymore Amelia. They did something, took my memories, or changed them. I know when we met, I think. I know when you called me to end it, I think. But, our time together? Even things with my family. With the unit, missions, army or not. They are all fragmented, real or false. They did the same to Bryan, to Bryce. So, none of us really know anymore, or at least I don’t trust what we know. I thought you were dead. When we arrived at the race track, I thought I’d seen a ghost. Then you were there, in the box, yelling at me and Bryce and I….I just didn’t know what you were talking about. I thought…..you were dead. I….I’ve been trying to remember and Whitley has been trying to help, course the psychiatrist too, that I can’t tell too much too.” He swallowed, before whispering, “Will you help me?”
She’d been ready to argue about the timing again, about waiting to tell her until the time was right. Slowly, the horror of what they’d done began to soak into her. She’d stepped back a few steps in the expectation of fighting, well arguing, but when he turned towards her, her stance had softened, and her eyes were wet with un-shed tears as she stepped forward, almost as to hug him, her hand rising halfway in consolation, and she heard herself say, “Of course, I’ll help.”
Shocked at her own feelings, her own pain rushing to the surface, she looked, truly looked at the man in front of her, at the pain radiating from him, the fear of the unknown. It was really the last that pushed her over the edge, he’d never been afraid of anything in the past. As waves of emotion coursed through her body, she reached out, a loving caress that didn’t need touch to express itself. “I…I need to go check on Olivia.”
He just nodded, his anguish lessened by the knowledge that she’d said yes.
Last Dreams 