Sam nodded happily, grinning up at Ford, as his dad tucked him in.
“Alright, big man,” he said, mussing the boy’s hair. “Hit the rack.”
Sam cuddled in beneath the covers. “Can you sing the dinosaur song… like Mommy?”
The dinosaur song? Ford was baffled — and acutely aware of long he had been missing from his son’s life. “Not sure I know that one.”
He looked to Elle for help. She smiled at him from the doorway, letting him fend for himself, just like he’d insisted.
Captain Freeman was right, he decided. They really don’t train us for this.
He got up to leave. A worried look came over the little boy’s face.
“Dad? You’ll be here tomorrow, too, right?”
Ford winced at the anxiety in his son’s voice.
“Yeah, buddy. I told you. The next two weeks are all yours.” He reluctantly retreated toward the hall, where Elle was waiting. “Now get some shut-eye, okay? I’ll still be here in the morning.”
“You promise?”
Ford leaned in and gave Sam a gentle peck on the forehead. He wished there was more he could to do to reassure his son. He knew what it was like to have a father you barely knew anymore.
“You bet,” he promised.
“—so by this point, he’s literally buck naked with his jock strap on his forehead, a banana in his teeth, hooting like a monkey — and that’s when our C.O. steps in — and I swear to God, looks him right in the eye, not skipping a beat, goes: ‘At ease, Lieutenant.’”
Elle doubled over, giggling hysterically, as Ford acted out the anecdote for her entertainment. They had the lights on dim in the kitchen and a half-empty bottle of wine rested on the table between them. Ford knew he ought to get some sleep — he had been traveling nonstop for over a day now — but he and Elle had a lot of lost time to make up. She struggled to catch her breath, laughing so hard tears leaked from her eyes. Ford cracked up, too.
He came around the table and pulled her close.
“I missed your laugh,” he said, relishing the feel of her against him. “My last roommate honked like a mule.”
She melted into him. The familiar scent of her hair stirred his memories.
“I missed you, too,” she said.
Their laughter gradually subsided, but he kept holding onto her, unwilling to let her go. Back on tour, while disposing of explosive ordnance, there had been more than a few tense moments when he’d thought he’d never have a chance to hold Elle again. Part of him still couldn’t believe that they were really back together again after all that time. Hilarity gave way to intimacy as she rested snugly against him. Just like old times.
He drew her toward him. She resisted at first, eyeing him with a wary expression, but, to his vast relief, she let it go for now. Their lips met as they surrendered to a mutual hunger that had not been satisfied for far too long. The kiss deepened, growing in heat, while they pressed against each other with ever-greater urgency, their hands exploring the tantalizing contours beneath their clothing, their fervent grip and lips anchoring them together. Locked in each other’s arms, they began to ease toward the bedroom.
The phone rang.
“Don’t,” he said. “Not now.”
Elle disengaged from the embrace, pulling away, but he held on to her waist. Her face was flushed. “It could be work.”
She was a nurse at San Francisco General Hospital, and she took her responsibilities as seriously as he did his. It was one of the things he loved about her, even when their respective duties pulled them apart. He clung to her playfully, nuzzling her neck, even as she leaned over to answer the phone.
“Hello?” she said into the receiver, fighting back giggles.
“Tell ‘em you’re busy,” he whispered seductively into her ear. “Tell ‘em your husband is unbuttoning your shirt as you speak—”
He heard a muffled voice on the other end of the line, but was more interested in exploring the tantalizing contours beneath Elle’s clothes. She wriggled deliciously and made a very half-hearted effort to swat away his wandering hands while he nibbled on her ear. She turned her moist, enticing lips away from the phone.
“Ford, stop it — come on—!”
Not a chance, he thought.
The muffled voice spoke again. All at once, her frolicsome manner evaporated. She stopped responding to his caresses and gave her full attention to the phone instead. Barely suppressed giggles were cut off abruptly. Her expression darkened and Ford knew at once that playtime was over. He listened intently, frowning.
“No, this is Mrs. Brody,” she replied to the unknown caller. “Yes, he’s my husband. Hold on a moment.”
She covered the phone and turned slowly toward Ford, who braced himself in anticipation. Judging from Elle’s reaction, he knew he wasn’t going to like this.
“What?” he asked.
“It’s the consulate,” she said tersely. “Joe… he’s been arrested in Japan.”
Ford felt like he had just been sucker-punched. Whatever trace of his amorous mood had remained dissolved completely, consumed by an all-too-familiar mixture of resentment and gloom. He should’ve known that the call was about his father — and his never-ending obsessions.
Jesus Christ, Dad, he thought. What have you done this time?
Ford slumped in a kitchen chair, already exhausted at the prospect of having to deal with his dad again. It never ended, year after year, all the way back to terrible day fifteen years ago, when Ford had watched the nuclear power plant vanish from sight, taking his mother with it. Joe Brody had begun to melt down that day as well, and his son was still dealing with the emotional fallout, all these years later.
“Ford?”
Elle held out the phone. He lifted his head to meet her worried gaze. He had no idea whether he could handle this again. He stared at the phone as though it was a ticking time bomb, about to blow up in his face… one more time. What the hell was he supposed to do?
“He’s your father,” she reminded him.
Ford rummaged unhappily through a bedroom dresser, searching for a clean pair of socks. His duffel bag rested on the bed nearby. He couldn’t believe he was doing this. He hadn’t even unpacked yet and here he was packing to leave again. He pulled open another drawer, unable to find what he was looking for. He didn’t even know where anything was anymore.
“Why was he trespassing in the quarantine zone?” Elle leaned against the wall, watching him pack. She nodded at the dresser. “No, the other drawer.”
“Why do you think?” Ford said bitterly. “Lone crusader for the truth, all his crackpot theories.”
“Your father’s a good man. He just needs help. He lost everything that day.”
“So did I. But I got over it.”
“I can see that,” she said wryly.
Ford paused in his search, realizing how he must sound. A photo of Elle and Sam, residing atop the dresser, reminded him not to take this out on her, and how much this whole situation sucked.
“We’ve worked so hard for everything we have, Elle. I’m afraid he’ll ruin it. Every time I let him close, he tries to drag me back. I can’t live in the past. I can’t put our family through that.”
“He is your family, Ford.” She came toward him, smiling. “You’ll be back in a few days. It’s not the end of the world.”
He wondered what he had ever done to deserve somebody so patient and understanding. He pulled her close and they kissed, doing their best to make every moment count.