Tanner hummed thoughtfully and had to admit Lance had a point. Jobs could be just that. They didn’t have to be life defining.
“You know what, that’s actually pretty reasonable and insightful. I apologize for taking the piss.”
Lance grinned as he picked up the steak tongs.
“No need. I’d have laughed, too, if I’d been in your shoes.”
He opened the top of the grill and flipped over the steaks. Turning back to Tanner, he looked at him questioningly.
“Turnabout’s fair play. What about you? You said you were back from deployment—Army?”
Tanner hesitated, tugging at the edge of the label on his beer bottle. Feeling uneasy about re-visiting his past so soon after running into his old Army buddy that morning, he struggled to react normally to the question.
“I was a helicopter pilot in the US Army,” he said, managing to hold his voice steady.
“No shit!” Lance replied, looking shocked. “Was?” he added cautiously.
Tanner gave a slight nod. “Now discharged.”
“So your arm—?” Lance pushed for more. People always did. It was hard not to, and he couldn’t fault their natural curiosity. Except the big problem with his story was that it had a dark, ugly ending that they didn’t want to hear. And he didn’t really want to share it with anybody in the first place. Tanner looked at the ground and sighed deeply.
“You really don’t have to—” Lance began, but Tanner quickly cut him off.
“I can’t tell you everything—most of it is still classified. But while my guys and I were flying back from a rescue mission our helicopter was shot down. I was taken prisoner and—uh—” he cleared his throat, doing his best to even out his breathing. “I was a prisoner for three years until I managed to escape and steal an old-as-fuck helicopter to fly to the nearest US military base.” He couldn’t meet Lance’s gaze just yet, so he kept his eyes on the ground as he continued. “Funnily enough, I was still in one piece when I escaped, but then the US ground defense system shot my stolen helicopter right out of the sky and—thatcrash nearly killed me.” He smiled in grim amusement at this bit of irony. It had been pure hell, but he’d survived. That was the main thing.
Tanner finally raised his gaze to find Lance looking intently at him with gentle understanding. Tanner didn’t know how he felt about that. It was a reaction he wasn’t accustomed to getting, since most looked at him with obvious pity.
“Are you going to go back to flying?” Lance asked. Tanner struggled to maintain emotional balance. He felt compelled to confess things to Lance, for some reason. Even though they’d just met the day before.
“No,” he shook his head. “I was declared unfit for active duty. My only recourse would be to look for a job in the private sector in aviation but—” he shivered at the thought of takingto the skies again. Maybe one day, but not anytime soon. “My piloting days, I fear, are over. I was also a fairly decent aircraft mechanic, so maybe—” he shook his head again, and took a deep breath. It got overwhelming at times, trying to stay in the present and plan for a new future while the ghosts of his past hovered over him. “I don’t know anything for sure yet.”
Lance hummed thoughtfully, lifting the lid on the grill and then moving the steaks to a serving platter. As far as reactions went, Lance’s was considerably more reserved and less intrusive than most, as if he’d surmised that Tanner wasn’t in the mood for any more prodding or poking around in the past.
“Should we eat out here on the deck?”
“That sounds good to me,” Tanner replied, feeling much lighter than before. He wasn’t sure what to chalk his relief up to. Maybe it was the beer or the unexpected ease with which he’d just discussed the darkest part of his life. He chuckled to himself at that unfathomable thought. Tanner was probably losing his damned mind. A sentiment further supported by what he thought was awinkfrom Lance as he turned to set the steaks on the table.
Jeez. At this rate, he’d be ripe for the looney bin by midsummer.
*****
It took a great deal of inner fortitude for Lance to act normally after learning about Tanner’s past and his uncertain future. The older brother in him—the caretaker of his siblings for a long time—wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around Tanner and shield him from the harshness of the world. He knew it wouldn’t be welcomed. In his experience, adult males generally didn’t take kindly to being tackled to the ground and hugged fiercely out of the blue, but he still wanted to. God, did heever want to! He did his best to conceal those thoughts and find something easy and fun to discuss, since Tanner looked like he needed to relax and let his guard down more than anything else.
“I talk a big game in the kitchen, but I gotta tell ya, I’m definitely not all that when it comes to cooking. Maybe send up a quick prayer that these T-bones will be edible!” Lance declared with a laugh while loading their plates and then gesturing for Tanner to dig in.
“Listen, one-armed cooking has made me the king of the microwave. This will be better for sure,” he assured him with a brilliant smile. Lance was amazed at the contrast between how happy and relaxed Tanner looked in this moment and how serious and uncomfortable he’d been on Sunday afternoon. Lance wasn’t much of a cook, but if he could make Tanner joke around and smile so openly more often, then he’d be planning a lot more of these kinds of dinners.
“Cheers to that, then!” Lance lifted his beer in a toast. “And to new friends!” he added, sounding corny as hell, but Tanner didn’t seem to mind as he laughed and clinked his bottle against Lance’s.
Lance cut into his steak and discovered that he’d done a fairly decent job after all. A perfect medium rare. He glanced at Tanner, hoping to see that he was pleased with his steak as well. Instead, Tanner looked frustrated as he struggled to cut his steak with one hand. Lance was horrified at his failure to think of this issue before serving him.
“Jeez! I’m such an idiot,” Lance said, causing Tanner to look up in confusion. “Let me cut that for you. It’ll grow cold before you manage to get a single bite.”
“Can’t argue with that logic,” Tanner chuckled, pushing his plate towards Lance. “But just so we’re clear, if you make a smiley face with my steak, I’ll kick your ass!” he warned, eyesnarrowed. With a serene smile, Lance proceeded to do exactly that.
When Tanner retrieved his plate, he had to laugh at how the pieces of steak had been arranged to form a smiley face with the big bone used as a hat.
“Asshole,” he mumbled under his breath. Lance looked supremely satisfied as he sipped his beer.
