His sister looked at me. “My brother would like me to believe he isn’t bothering you.”
“Your brother would also like to believe my marriage was an accident. I’m not sure your brother has a close relationship with the truth.”
Her face clouded over like a fast storm sweeping down the Front Range. “Kevin. Tell me you did not ask them about that stupid fucking rumor. I told you that was bullshit and disrespectful to them.”
Kevin retreated further into his flaccid turtle impression. “I just wanted to know the truth!”
“I am so sorry,” his sister said to us. “I really should have known better than to bring him. My car is in the shop, and he offered to drive if I let him come eat at the buffet. I thought, maybe if he saw how the pairings really worked, he might forget his decision to sign up for a match. It would save him the humiliation of rejection.”
“I’m thinking he could use some humiliation,” Jackson said. I’d come to recognize that tone as belonging to Sergeant Sadler, asskicker on a chain with a weak link.
“You’d think he would have gotten his fill of it already,” she muttered. I watched as her eyes swept over Jackson’s name tag, caught as if they’d encountered the business end of a hook, and snagged. “Sadler? Jackson Sadler?”
Jackson nodded.
The woman held out her hand. “I can’t even say how honored I am to finally meet you. Major Samantha Hayes.”
“CO of the Bouddicans?” Jackson took her hand and shook it. Neither seemed inclined to burst into salutes. “I worked with your unit, ma’am. They are fearsome and I was honored to have them keeping our skins intact while we did what we had to do.”
“They had so many good things to say about you and your fireteam,” the Major said. “We will back you up anytime you need. This your husband?”
“Yep. This is Sebastian.” Jackson put his arm around my shoulder. It sat tensely over my back. “Sebastian, this is one of the finest warriors you’ll ever meet.”
“I am so pleased to meet you,” I said, and shook Samantha’s hand. “Jackson’s told me a little about what happened up there. The Bouddicans have a reputation, and apparently, it’s understated.”
She looked pleased. “Thank you. I’m proud of them all. Your husband has his own reputation, and I have to say, you’re really lucky to have him. He isgoing places. You’re going to be hosting dinner parties while your husband polishes the stars on his uniform.”
“Do the spouses of generals have to wear pearls still, or have we moved past that? Because I don’t have any, and if I need them, I need to start saving.”
Samantha laughed. “Save up for that apron and pearl necklace, my friend. You know, we should all grab a beer while I’m still on world! My treat.”
“We’d like that,” I said, before Jackson could demure. “Let me give you his number. I’m on the waiting list for a new phone. Mine has given up hope and is waiting to die.”
After we’d exchanged numbers, and Samantha had dragged her brother off to presumably drown in a fountain, I turned to smile at Jackson and found a scowl on his face. “Do you not want to have drinks with her?” I asked, even if I knew that wasn’t the issue.
No, that jackass had found the weak point and driven a wedge into it. “Is that what they all think?” Jackson asked. “That we were a mistake? That you’re just waiting to cheat?”
“Who cares what they all think?” I countered. “I don’t. We know the truth. What Idocare about is how anyone else got that information. I ampositiveMail Call had to have protected it, but there’s clearly been a leak and I want to know where it is. Especially since it’swrong.”
The crowd that had oozed in around us to listen while the argument bristled had melted away, but I knew the conversations remained. Speculation that we doth protest too much, possibly that Mail Call had paid us extra to cover up their mistake. Lies breed in silence to become festering secrets which poison all around them.
Jackson had tasted that poison. I could see it in his eyes. Cheating erodes at a person’s ability to trust. He’d started to rebuild that trust, one painful brick at a time, but it still took so little to knock it back down again. One pernicious rumor at a function full of people meant to support you could undo weeks of work.
“I’d kind of like to go,” he said.
“I- Yes. Could we stay just a bit longer?” I asked. “They’re going to do a presentation soon, with pictures of the couples and all, and then I think there’s dancing. Give me one dance. Is that all right?”
It wasn’t. Jackson nodded anyway. “All right. That’s fair. One dance, then we head home.”
Head home for another battle in the squared circle of memory. Jackson Sadler against His Past, the return bout for the championship belt. We’d intended to stay a while, socialize, and return home for a nice evening together. As of that conversation with Kevin, we were headed for a somber, pensive night and a weekend filled with doubt and reassurances that our marriage was real.
I had one dance to save the night from utter ruin. One dance to turn this around. Or did I?
With a murmur, I excused myself and wound through the crowd to the edge of the room. I did see Elaine Prise now, with a couple other Mail Call officials. They were gathering their notes and checking in with the technical director about their presentations. The music had stopped, and the lights began to fade from a general glow to spotlights on the small dais they’d speak on.
Elaine held a microphone in her hand. I slipped up to her group. “Mister Sadler,” she said. “Can I help you?”
“You can. Give me that microphone and a couple minutes on stage.Please,” I said, when her denial almost left her lips. “Someone leaked what happened with our match. It’s all over this party. Let me try my hand at damage control.”