“She’s amazing, not to mention she is a total badass. She used to work for the NSA and was then recruited by a private firm. Idon’t know exactly what happened, but I heard that during an operation she was involved in a few years ago, she almost died. In fact, that’s where she met her husband.”
“Her dad was a SEAL and was killed in action when she was a little girl, right?” Her uncle asked.
Charley nodded. “Yeah. Her dad’s teammates all banded together to help raise her. Commander Derek Connors is her adopted dad. Alex named the Foundation after her biological dad, Jacob Hardesty. It means so much to her, and I just want to make sure that I don’t drop the ball. I really want to give this my all.”
Uncle Glen studied her carefully, his warm eyes understanding. “You will,” he said. But Charley sensed there was more he wanted to say.
The rest of the dinner conversation centered on the neighborhood and what had changed there.
After dinner, Charley tried unsuccessfully to help her aunt clean up the kitchen. However, after clearing the table, she was shooed out of the kitchen and warned not to come back until dessert was served.
Taking her aunt’s warning seriously, she spotted her uncle out on the back porch. When their eyes met through the window, he waved her out. As she stepped out onto the deck, her uncle smiled at her.
“Come on over and take a load off,” he said, motioning to the seat next to him.
The evening air felt nice. Charley settled into the old wooden porch swing, its chains creaking as she leaned back. Her uncle handed her a mug of coffee.
She looked at him with a raised eyebrow, silently asking how he knew she’d be out there.
He grinned. “I know my wife. She doesn’t let anyone in the kitchen when she’s cleaning.”
Charley laughed. “You got that right. She chased me out, threatening to snap me with a dishtowel.”
Her uncle chuckled. “That woman’s got a mean snap,” he joked.
They sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, sipping their coffee. It was peaceful and also brought back memories of when she and her dad used to sit on their porch and just stare at the stars.
She glanced at her uncle as the porch light cast a soft halo around them, catching the silver now lacing her uncle’s close-cropped hair.
Finally, he let out a low grunt as he set his mug down on the table next to him. “Alright, kiddo,” he said, stretching his legs out. “You’ve been quiet since dinner. What’s going on in that head of yours?”
Charley tried to deflect with a smile, but the second their eyes met, she knew it was pointless. That was another thing he shared with her dad. They both could read people as if it were an everyday skill they had been born with.
“Nothing gets past you, does it?” she murmured, taking a sip from her mug.
“Not when it comes to you.” He repositioned his body so that it was angled toward her as his arm rested on the back of the swing. “Talk to me, Charley.”
Her chest tightened. She looked out toward the yard instead, staring at the old oak tree she used to climb as a kid. How was she supposed to say this without sounding fragile or weak? She’d spent so long holding it together, pretending that leaving California had scraped her clean of everything she had carried. But it didn’t.
“When Alex first approached me about this opportunity, I thought coming back here would feel different,” she finally said.“Like a clean slate. But lately…” She swallowed. “I found that I keep second-guessing myself and my decision.”
Her uncle didn’t speak. He just waited, patient as always, knowing there was more she had to say.
“Don’t get me wrong. I’m excited about this opportunity,” she went on, forcing the words out. “And grateful. Alex trusted me with leading something near and dear to her,” she huffed a small laugh. “She offered me a leadership position, something I’ve always wanted. But being back here…” Her voice softened. “It stirs up things I worked really hard to bury. I don’t want to fall apart or look weak. I also don’t want to fail.”
Glen blew out a slow breath. “Charley, look at me.”
She lifted her head and looked into her Uncle’s eyes.
“There is nothing weak about you,” he said, voice steady, carrying the weight of decades in uniform. “You survived losing two people who meant the world to you. But you built a life after all of that. Coming back here doesn’t erase that progress.”
Her throat tightened again, but this time in that familiar, painful-comforting way that came when someone saw her too clearly.
“I’m proud of you, kiddo,” he added. “Your dad and brother would be too. Just remember that it is okay to feel sad and nervous. But you can’t let the past keep deciding your future and holding you back. You’ve got too much left to do.”
A small, trembling breath escaped her. “I try to remind myself that sometimes.” She shrugged her shoulders. “Maybe I just needed to hear it from someone else.”
“That’s what I’m here.” He nudged her shoulder lightly. “And hey, nervous is normal. It means you care. It also means you’re about to do something big. You are a lot stronger than you think.”
