Jeremy responded with a raised fist. “Was this your idea?”
“Not likely. You’re supposed to be in Indiana at college.”
“Shows how much you know. I graduated last semester.” His brother lowered his hand.
Mitch couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “So, whose tuition am I paying?”
“The same deserving student you’ve been paying for all along. And I hope you don’t stop, because he still has a semester to go.”
Standing on a tarmac, learning he was paying tuition for someone he didn’t even know, ranked right up with one of the craziest mornings Mitch had ever had. “How did you get through college without my help?”
“I worked and saved and took out loans and enlisted.” Jeremy braced his hands on his waist and laughed. “I don’t want your money. You want me to say thanks? Then, thanks. Thanks for mailing a gift card when I graduated high school. Thanks for sending presents every Christmas, when all we wanted was to see you. And, thanks for never being there when I had a question about life. Thanks for not a damn thing. I don’t need your control, Mitch. I can take care of myself.”
In less than an hour two people had said the word “control” to him. “I never wanted thanks. I just didn’t want you all to have to go through what I had in life. You all deserve better.”
“What about you? What do you deserve?” Jeremy glanced at the ground. “Think about it, did you really think our aunt wouldn’t tell us why you left years ago? Or that you sent money all the time? Or that you’d make sure we all got through college? Think about it.”
All these years, Mitch had thought about how much his family needed him. How he needed to keep them going in life. Help them find their way. But he’d never wanted them to know. He’d never wanted any of the credit. He’d simply been fulfilling his promise to their dad.
Liz strode up to the two men. “The chopper pilot says we have to go.”
Mitch nodded. Jeremy took a few steps in the opposite direction.
“That’s it? That’s all we’ve got to say after all these years?” Mitch asked.
His brother turned and kept walking backward. “That’s it, bro. Hell Week’s coming, and I’ve got a life to live. You need to get one, too.”
Jeremy turned and jogged away.
“I take it that’s your brother,” Liz said.
“Yeah.” Mitch took her arm, guiding her toward the chopper.
“And he’s not in Indiana.”
“No.”
She pulled out of his hold, stopped, and stared at him. “Your brother’s here, Mitch. He’s in SEAL training. Gonna go through Hell Week. Think about it. What do you need to do for him?”
If one more person told him to think about something, Mitch felt like he might explode.
Mitch raced across the tarmac and adjoining field to partly catch up with his brother. “Jeremy! Watch out for the hypothermia.”
His brother stopped, turned. Shot him a go-to-hell look. “What?”
“Watch out for the hypothermia. It’s a killer.” Mitch’s idea of motivation might not jive with what others considered appropriate, but he knew what his brother needed. “I’d sure hate to be the SEAL whose little brother couldn’t make it through Hell Week.”
Jeremy turned and jogged away. “Fuck you!”
Racing back to the tarmac, Mitch noticed his old instructor standing at the edge of the tree line. Mitch raised his arm straight up. “Hooyah!”
The instructor responded in kind.
“Come on, Mitch.” Liz shouted. “Chopper’s leaving. Move your sorry ass.”
Motivation was taking on strange forms today, but hell, this might be a day he’d never forget. He charged to the chopper and hoisted himself inside. Damn, he loved this base. This life. Missed it, too. Maybe he should find another place to love.
Like a house with a pool and a view and—fortress-like security with bulletproof windows. He leaned back, crossed his arms, and closed his eyes. He knew exactly where they were going. Why hadn’t he thought of it sooner?
