“Yep. It’s always gross, but this was the 95% alcohol one. It was basically just plain ole rubbing alcohol. Anyway, onenight, all the guys in our section of the barracks were cleared of duty assignments. So, this dude gets out the Everclear, and three cans of Red Bull, which was not nearly enough as the mixer part of this for the ten of us but it’s all we had. He got an empty gallon water jug from the mess tent and mixed all that shit together. Each one of us had been issued a small tin coffee cup to carry in our rucksacks, so we used those to make sure everyone got an equal share. I will never forget the first drink I took of that shit. I swear, it tasted like I’d stuck my tongue in a wall socket. There’s no other way to describe it.”
“Oh God!” Lance burst out laughing and shook his head in disgust. He’d tried the 60% alcohol one in college and had nearly thrown up, even though his had been heavily diluted with Sprite and melted ice.
“Yeah. It was bad. Reallllly bad, yet—not as bad as the next morning.”
“Bad hangover?”
“Bad? I’m not sure how it’s even possible, but it burned evenworseon the way up.”
Lance groaned in sympathy as Tanner laughed.
“It was Chris’s alcohol of choice,” Tanner added, shaking his head at the insanity of it all. “He used to say, ‘If I’m gonna get fucked up, I don’t want to remember it!’ Real fucking moron if there ever was one.”
He was obviously fond of the guy. Lance hesitated to ask about him, but it felt much too important to let this moment slip away without knowing the whole story.
“Where’s Chris now?”
Tanner shook his head and took a sip of his drink, his smile fading as he avoided Lance’s gaze.
“Chris was my copilot,” he explained, voice tight with pain. “I’m pretty sure he died in the crash, but if he didn’t—then he was still in the helo when it blew up.”
“I’m really sorry,” Lance offered in sincere sympathy while deeply regretting asking about the guy.
“Thank you,” he said, voice low. Tanner turned to him then and met his gaze. “He was a good guy. A great guy, even. He’s been dead for over three years now. It’s alright to remember the shit that happened before, too, you know. Not just the sad parts, but the funny parts too.” It sounded like a line from his shrink. Like something he might be trying to talk himself into believing and just needed more practice saying it out loud.
“Sure, yeah,” Lance agreed with him, glad to see a glint of humor in Tanner’s eyes.
They had almost polished off their drinks when Jeff came by to chat. He was the kind of stepfather you didn’t mind getting to know. He wasn’t a father figure to Lance. Had never been. Would never be. But he was a good man who’d helped a broken woman to heal and flourish. If for no other reason, that made him a decent man in Lance’s opinion.
“Well, hi there, son!” Jeff’s greeting was warm and welcoming.
Lance smiled and got up to shake Jeff’s hand.
“You doing alright? Your mom is handling the PR side of things, so I thought I’d swing by and catch up. Feels as if I haven’t seen you in ages.”
“I’m well, thanks. Business is great and Parker’s drinks are pretty good, so what else can I ask for?”
Jeff laughed and then turned to Tanner. “Hi, Tanner! Good to see you again, son! And thanks again for all your help with that Parker situation—truly.”
Tanner rose with a wince to shake hands with Jeff.
“I was happy to do whatever I could for those two. It was a tough deal for everyone concerned.”
After releasing Tanner’s hand, Jeff glanced down at his left leg, which he had been bending slightly to keep weight off it. “You okay there? Need a doc to look at that leg? You look like me after a few too many games of squash! I got a good friend of mine here, Dr. Carson. He’s head of orthopedics at St. John’s, I’m sure he could—”
“No, no,” Tanner interjected, before Jeff could call the doctor over and get anything started that could quite easily turn into a real shitshow. “Old injury, all good. Nothing that can’t be fixed with a little more tequila,” Tanner joked. Jeff laughed right along with him and Lance.
“Are you an athlete like our Lance here? Did you play college ball too?”
“No, sir,” Tanner replied, and reluctantly went on to explain, “I was in the military. Got injured during deployment.” His tone was polite and reserved, his usual method of discouraging further inquiries.
Apparently, Jeff was well versed in these kinds of conversations, because he nodded solemnly and held out his hand again.
“Well, thank you for your service, son.”
Tanner shook his hand, and they exchanged a look of mutual understanding and regard.
“You said you were in the military. I assume you are retired, now? What work do you do? Are you also an accountant?” Jeff asked, showing sincere interest. Tanner must have found this surprising because he shot Lance an inquiring look before explaining his status.
