Chapter 30: Tomorrow
"You are still in your dress blues," I said, sliding into the booth across from him.
"You are still in yours," Nico said. "We look like we lost a parade."
"We look like we survived one," I said.
He loosened his collar with one finger. "A hundred people offered you a drink back there. Did we have to end up here?"
"I wanted coffee," I said. "And quiet."
"You wanted this booth," he said.
"I wanted a booth," I said. "This one was open."
"Liar," he said, easy. "You picked the window. Same as last time."
The diner on Route 24 was half full. The waitress came over with a pot in her hand.
"Coffee for you, hon?" she asked me.
"Please," I said.
"Beer is next door," she told Nico. "Here I can do soda, tea, water."
"Water," he said. "She has corrupted me."
"I have done no such thing," I said.
"You brought cake to my party and gave the first slice to a gunnery sergeant," he said. "My reputation changed in one night."
The waitress set my coffee down, steady and full, and set his water beside it. Nothing spilled. She left the check and went to the counter.
Nico held his cold glass. "You did good today, Jules."
"You introduced me," I said. "I just stood there."
"You stood there like you belonged there," he said. "You never let us see that before."
"I know," I said.
"Can I tell you something I never told you?" I asked.
"You are volunteering information?" he said. "Who are you and what did you do with my sister?"
"Tell me," he said.
"In Sangin, my second winter, we lost comms with a patrol for almost an hour," I said. "Snow, interference, a relay that kept dropping. My job was to keep the link clear. Everyone wanted to move on because the board was full."
"What did you do?" he asked.
"I stayed on that frequency," I said. "I talked into static until my voice gave out. I read grid lines out loud so if they came back, they heard a person, not silence. Barrett brought me water and said nothing. He said later that was when they started calling me Sticky Six for real. Not because I was good. Because I would not let go of a channel everyone else thought was dead."
"Was it dead?" Nico asked.
"No," I said. "They came back on at minute fifty three. Cold, angry, alive. Their leader said he had heard pieces of me through the static and followed the sound home. I never knew if that was true or kind."
"Does it matter?" he asked.
"It used to," I said. "Now I think holding on was the thing itself."
He nodded slowly. "Why tell me now?"
"Because you asked me once what it was like, and I changed the subject," I said. "I did not want you carrying it. That was my excuse for years."
"I remember too," he said. "Kitchen at Mom's. You talked about Georgia weather like it was classified."
He laughed, then grew quiet again. "I am glad you told me, Sticky."
He did not say it like a joke. He said it the way he had in the hall that afternoon, in front of his Marines, like a name I had earned and he was proud to use right.
"Say it tomorrow and I might answer to it at family dinners," I said.
"She already framed your chevrons," I said. "Anything is possible now."
"Those are going over my couch," he said. "So every recruit knows I was promoted by committee and by cake."
"By merit," I said.
"And cake," he said.
"What are you doing tomorrow?" he asked.
"Driving back," I said. "Base in the morning, paperwork in the afternoon. I promised Barrett I would call his sister. Ordinary stuff."
"You?" I asked.
"Sleep late," he said. "Call Mom before she calls me. Maybe run, maybe pretend I ran. Then call you, if that is allowed when there is no crisis."
"It is allowed," I said. "It is preferred."
"Good," he said. "Then tomorrow I will call just to talk, and you will actually talk."
"Tomorrow," I said.
It had started by a window as a way to get through one hard night. Now it sounded like a plan we both intended to keep.
I used to think not letting go was something I did alone in a dark room, holding a frequency no one else could hear. It was my flaw when it kept me silent and my gift when it kept someone else alive. Sitting across from my brother, with his water and my coffee and nothing hidden between us, I understood it simpler. We could do it for each other now, and we would.