His wife helped him into a chair piled with thick pillows, trying to ease the pain in his spine, if only a little. What a life they led.
Tom was right. Sassy was spoiled.
Mrs. Moore brought them both a cup of tea and a roll, and sat with them for a little while, then she excused herself, saying she had to write some correspondence. She wasn’t fooling anyone. Anything Sassy and Mr. Moore talked about would be overheard in the tiny space. They had no secrets.
“I didn’t know if I’d told you that I started working for my dad a while back. In real estate,” Sassy began.
Mr. Moore’s pinched expression eased a little as he shifted a pillow. “You hadn’t. How is the old boy?”
“He’s… Business is good,” she said, letting her eyes crinkle at the sides. She wasn’t here to complain, but to help someone feel cared about.
“Ah. And he’s doing all right?”
How could she answer? With honesty, she decided. “We haven’t spoken much lately.”
“Why?”
She shrugged. “I wish I knew.”
A shadow crossed the veteran’s expression. “Your brother’s still over there?”
Straight to the point. Her dad used to be like that, too. Maybe they learned not to mess around when they were there. Just get it done.
“Yes, sir. Joey’s been there eleven months now. He signed up for six, but the marines offered some kind of incentive, and now he’s there for thirteen months.” She took a deep breath. “Actually, it’s worse than that. Joey’s missing. It happened after the Tet Offensive. Nobody’s heard anything about him since.”
He observed her for a beat, and his sympathetic gaze loosened her fragile hold on her tears. When it let go, she put her head in her hands and let them come. He said nothing, only waited, then he handed her a Kleenex.
“I’m sorry to hear that, Sassy. I really am.”
“What can I do, Mr. Moore?” she sniffed, dabbing at tears. “All I want is to talk with my dad about it. Ineedto talk with him. But he barely even looks at me.” She caught a sob. “I miss him so much.”
He exhaled, and she calmed slightly. “All you can do is try to understand. It’s not easy, I know.”
“I hope you don’t mind my asking, but do you get like he does sometimes? Remembering the war like that? Do you, I don’t know what you’d call it. Do you shut down?”
“I’m different from him, I guess.” He gestured at his missing leg. “Mymemories of the war are always right here, in front of me. I can never physically forget. I’m lucky that I don’t have the nightmares that so many have.” He hesitated, then he focused fully on her. “I do have memories, though. I have a lot of memories of your dad.”
Until tonight, Sassy and Mr. Moore had stuck to superficial topics. She asked how he was getting along, and she offered to pick up groceries or whatever. Sometimes they talked about Sassy’s childhood, because he seemed interested, and she loved to talk about those times. For some reason, they’d never talked about his past, and how he knew her father.
“I’ve seen the photo of three of you,” she said, encouraging him. “Dad keeps it on his desk. You and dad and another guy. You sure were young.”
He chuckled. “Young and stupid. Yeah.” A smile flickered. “I’ve known him a long time. You know, he and I went to high school together.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“It’s too bad you didn’t know him before. Your dad was a funny guy. And reliable. If anyone needed anything, they could talk to Jim Rankin. He could talk his way into a crowd and leave everyone smiling. He was Mr. Confidence.”
Sassy smiled. She liked hearing that.
“I don’t suppose he’s told you anything.”
“About what? The war? No, not really.”
He let out a long breath. “So he didn’t say anything about Italy.”
“I don’t think so. Why? What happened in Italy?”
Mrs. Moore breezed into the room, reminding Sassy that they weren’t alone.
