Are you safe?
Are you sleeping?
Is Berlin as terrible as they say?
Are you taking care of yourself?
Are you warm enough?
Do you need more socks?
I answered them all, as best I could.
And then… I couldn't help myself.
"I met someone," I said softly.
Dead silence on both extensions.
Then my mother gasped. "Oh my Lord?—"
And my father let out a low, amused grunt. "Knew it."
"She'sGerman," I added.
My mother squeaked. My father let out a slow whistle.
"Well," Dad said finally, "war's over. A heart goes where it damn well pleases."
"What's she like?" Mom demanded. "Is she kind? Is she pretty? Does she bring out the best in you? Gideon Joseph Griffin, you answer me!"
I rubbed the back of my neck. "She's… incredible. Strong. Smarter than me. Braver than me. Fierce as hell. And funny, when she lets herself be."
"Ah," Dad said knowingly. "One of those."
Mom whispered, "I want to know everything."
I don't know what pushed me to say it. Maybe the ache in my chest. Maybe the sound of Inga's laugh, still echoing in my skull. Maybe the way my father had gone quiet in that knowing, almost amused way he had whenever life cornered me into something important.
But whatever the reason, before we wrapped up the call, I said quietly, "Hey, Dad?"
"Yeah, son?"
"How'd you know?" My voice dropped even lower. "With Mom. How'd you know she was… the one?"
Mom made a delighted, muffled shriek on the other end. Dad cleared his throat, the way he did when he was trying not to get sentimental.
"Well now," he said. "That's a hell of a question."
Another pause, and I gave him time to collect himself, listening to my mom's heavy breathing from her pressing a handkerchief against her lips—I could just see it in my mind's eye—to prevent us from hearing her excited giggles. As if…
Finally, Dad collected his thoughts, "I guess I knew when bein' around her made the worst parts of me a little quieter."
I sank onto the edge of the small wooden bench by the CQ desk. Dad continued, in a voice warm and steady as a heartbeat. "Your mother… she didn't make my troubles vanish. She just made ‘em less loud. Like when you move a skittish horse from a stormy field to a quiet pasture. Same storm's blowin', but suddenly, you can breathe again."
I closed my eyes.
He kept going.
