Page 54 of Hushed

Instead, I tell her everything.

Chapter twenty

Levi

There’s a sandwich place on Flint Street with four tables and a window, and I’ve started eating there on Fridays because the dining hall at eleven-thirty is wall-to-wall people who all got out of high school in June.

I’m halfway through a turkey club and a chapter on multilateral institutions when somebody stops at my table.

“Boots!” he says, by way of greeting.

It’s the umbrella guy from outside the radio station. Up close and dry he’s got about four inches on me and the kind of posture that doesn’t come off. Behind him, Parker is already at the counter reading the board like it’s an exam.

“Umbrella!” I say, wiping the crumbs off my fingers.

“Lance.” He puts out his hand. “Levi, right? Army?”

“Yeah. Got out in August.”

“Marines. Got out a while back.” He glances at my book, then at the empty chairs on either side of me. “You eat here every Friday?”

“Mostly.”

“Huh.” Parker arrives with two coffees and a paper bag, and Lance takes one without looking, and puts his arm around Parker’s shoulders. His wedding ring gleams in the light. “There’s a thing next Saturday. Cookout. Bunch of us. Mostly veterans, a couple of strays.”

“You don’t have to—”

“I know I don’t.” He’s already got his phone out. “What’s your number?”

I give him the number. He nods.

“How’s Bastien?” Parker asks.

“He’s fine.”

“He’s welcome to come, too,” Lance says.

“Yeah, the spouses mostly catch up on Real Housewives gossip while they talk about guns,” Parker says. “So we’re always looking for people.”

I open my mouth to say that Bastien is not a military spouse, but then I close it, because I just realized that Parker’s assumed that Bastien is mine to speak for, and it’s warmed up something inside me to the point of nearly glowing.

Lance looks mildly offended. “It’s not that bad,” he says to Parker.

Parker grimaces. “I can debate the merits of a Beretta M9 versus the Desert Eagle now!”

“What are you using a Desert Eagle for, hunting moose?” I ask.

“I didn’t even know what these things were when I married him,” Parker insists.

“I liked my SIG Sauer,” I put in before they can pivot back to my relationship with Bastien.

“Yeah, I heard the Army was still with the M17,” Lance says, turning to me.

“Oh, my God,” Parker moans. “Don’t encourage him. This is why I need sane people around me. Bring Bastien before someone thinks it’s funny to try to teach me how to build a bomb or something else that ordinary people don’t need to know. Has he made up his mind yet about the radio show?”

“He…hasn’t told me yet.”

“Do you think you can work your wiles?”