“No, just this.”
“All right. Then let’s go.”
We walked toward the main terminal in silence, and I realized that Rich was playing a game to see who would speak first.
“Seriously?” I said in exasperation. “Is everything a competition with you?”
“Not everything,” he admitted. “Only where you’re concerned.”
“Fine. Whatever. What did you tell your parents?”
“That I’m bringing a friend home for dinner and to spend the night.”
“They’re okay with that?”
“Of course. I do it all the time. Navy chow gets old.”
We drove to his parents’ house in silence, although I could feel him working up to something. He parked in the driveway and turned off the Blazer’s engine.
“You want some advice?”
“That depends,” I said warily.
“Always on guard,” he chuckled. “I like that about you.”
“Thanks?”
“Don’t mention it. Okay, here goes… Drink the good stuff if he offers. And be polite, but don’t back down. He respects junior officers who’ll stand up to him.”
I blinked in surprise.
“One last thing…”
“Yeah?”
“Good luck.”
* * *
Rich and I walked around the garage and entered the screen porch. He turned the kitchen doorknob and opened it quietly. Then he sort of glide-stepped into the house. His mother was standing by the stove with her back to us, although she chose that moment to turn toward the sink. She saw him out of the corner of her eye and jumped in surprise.
“Oh my gosh, Richard! Don’t scare me like that! You know I—! Paul? What’re you—?” Her eyes widened again, with excitement this time. “Oh, dear. It’s happening, isn’t it? Never mind. Forget I said anything. Come in, come in.”
Rich walked toward her normally and bent to accept a kiss on the cheek.
“How many times have I told you?” she chided. “Don’t sneak up on me like that.”
“Why not? It’s good practice.”
“You’ll give me a heart attack one day.”
“Never. You’re going to outlive us all.”
“Not if you keep scaring me.” She waved me closer and gave me a kiss as well. “Why didn’t you tell us you were coming? Never mind. I know. Only, I’m supposed to pretend I don’t. Isn’t that how it works?”
“How’s he s’posed to know?” Rich laughed. “He’s never done this before either.”
“Be nice,” his mother told him. Then she turned businesslike. “Let me put dinner in the oven and then you can fix me a drink. I need it after the fright you gave me. And I’m sure Paul wants to talk to your father.”
“I’m glad one of us does,” he joked.
“You sound like Daniel again.”
“Ugh! And what’re you grinning about, Romeo?”
“You. You’re so much like Birdy.”
“Only more dangerous.”
“Not to me.”
Anne grinned at him expectantly.
“No fair,” he muttered.
“Yes, dear,” she said sweetly. Then she smiled at me. “I’m glad you’re here. Harold’s in his office.”
It was the verbal equivalent of a firm shove, and I suppressed a smile. I’d never stood a chance, with Christy or her family.
“Well, here goes,” I said. “Faint heart never won fair lady.”
“Not in this family,” Rich chuckled. “Go on. And remember what I told you.”
Anne looked curious but didn’t ask.
“Roger that,” I said.
I walked toward the front of the house. It was farther than I remembered, at least a mile. My heart started pumping more blood to my brain, and my breathing struggled to keep up.
I rehearsed my arguments for the umpteenth time. My actual speech was short and sweet, but I’d thought of a million things to say if he said no.
I reached the open doors and paused just out of sight. I listened. Nothing.
After a moment I looked back. Anne and Rich were watching from the kitchen. He rolled his eyes in exasperation, but she nodded encouragement. I felt an enormous weight on my chest, so I paused and tried to get my heart rate and breathing under control.
Then I took the first step, into the king’s audience chamber. Harold was working at his desk, and he didn’t notice me at first. He jerked in surprise but recovered quickly. He was used to taking charge, after all.
“Paul! Ah, I see. So you’re the ‘friend’?” His eyes narrowed shrewdly and he switched gears, to the cordial host. “Good to see you. Come in.” He stood and walked around the desk. He was wearing a white Izod polo and bright Kelly green slacks. “Uniform of the day,” he said dryly. “Golf.”
“Oh. Right.”
“Do you play?”
“Not yet.”
He chuckled and gestured at the liquor cabinet. “Drink?”
“Yes, please.”
“Whiskey? Ice? The usual?”
“Whatever you’re having.”
“Mmm. Have a seat.”
I sat. Then I smoothed my pants. I crossed my legs but uncrossed them just as quickly. I sat forward instead. Finally, I planted my hands on my knees and told myself to stop fidgeting.
Harold turned from the liquor cabinet and handed me a nearly full glass. It was a triple, and my eyebrows rose in surprise.
“You look like you need it.” He settled into the comfortable wingback chair, swirled the ice in his own glass, and sipped. “Drink up.”
I did, although I scarcely noticed the bite of the whiskey. I tilted the glass higher and kept going, until the ice froze my lip and the last drops trickled over my tongue.
Harold looked on with curious amusement. “Another?”
“No. Thank you.” I set the empty glass on the table.
“So,” he said, idle chitchat, “what brings you to San Diego?”
“I think you know. Sir. And I won’t beat around the bush… I want to marry Christy.”
“And…?” His ice-blue eyes glinted, not with a warning, but something closer to enjoyment.
“I’m asking your permission.”
He nodded thoughtfully and still didn’t say anything. Then he settled into his chair. He crossed his legs, sipped his drink, and studied me. Senior officers cracked under that gaze. Junior ones broke entirely.
I reminded myself that I wasn’t either.
“You’re a cool one, all right.” Harold set his drink on the table and pretended to look relaxed. I couldn’t read him as easily as Christy, but he was thinking hard. “Now, what were we talking about?”
My eyes tightened.
“Ha! Brave, too. Brave… or foolish. I don’t see that look very often.” He held up a hand before I could defend myself. “It’s all right. You remind me of me. So, you want to marry Birdy? And you’re asking my permission?” he mused.
“Yes, sir.”
He thought about it and nodded. “Before I give you my answer, let me ask you something. What would you do if I say no? Would you respect my wishes?”
“Yes, sir. But I’d tell Christy.”
“Hmm. Asymmetric warfare. Good strategy.” He paused. “What then?”
“I’d wait.”
“Ah. A war on two fronts. Against my wife and daughter. You don’t fight fair.”
“No, sir. I fight to win.”
I had a sudden, vivid image of Rich pumping his fist. I couldn’t see or hear him, but I knew he’d done it. I cleared my head and focused on the reality I could see.
Harold chuckled. “Oh, boy. Now you definitely remind me of me. And I suppose you think you’ve already won?”
“I want to marry your daughter. She wants to marry me. Of course I’ve won. The rest is just… posturing.”
“You may be right.” He smiled, although it faded as his eyes went to the past. “I never had this conversation with Anne’s father. He died before I met her.”
I nodded.
“But I’ve always imagined what it would’ve been like. Asking her mother was hard enough,” he added. “Now there’s a woman who knows how to intimidate someone.”
“I know the feeling,” I said under my breath. Anne wasn’t intimidating in the physical sense, but I wouldn’t cross her unless my life depended on it.