like he’d die for any one of them.
His folks came down for the Trident ceremony. Over their weekend stay, he showed them what he could of Coronado. He took them to some of his favorite watering holes and noticed at every turn his dad didn’t order alcohol.
“He’s trying very hard, Zak,” his mother told him one time while his dad was in the head. “Going to meetings, doing some light workouts. Doesn’t stay down at the shop as much as he used to, and of course isn’t always tinkering with that car.” She stared down at her French fries.
“What did the insurance come up with?”
“Peanuts, really. He had it insured as an antique, but that didn’t give him the real value to him, you know, didn’t compensate for all the time he put in, and the labor he traded to fix it up. He got a check, but not enough to buy something else he felt like tackling, and way short of the real value of the car. You know how that goes. You learn from your mistakes.”
“Not fair.”
“Well, let’s just say we’d do it differently another time, except that there won’t be a next time. That was that.” She looked at him hard. “Perhaps this was a good thing. Never seen him so determined to get back into shape. He’s a different man when he’s not drinking, Zak. I think he wants you to be proud of him.”
Jack Chambers approached. “We done? Nice sunny day, good day for walking around.” He put his hand on his wife’s neck and gave her a peck on the cheek. It hadn’t been very long ago when his dad would have preferred to stay in a darkened bar for hours on end.
Zak chose to bring up the subject of money one last time before his parents left. “Dad, I’m saving to pay you back.”
His dad stared down at his feet and didn’t say anything.
“Sorry to say, I’ve only managed to save about a grand. But it’s yours. I’m giving you a check before you go.”
“Nah, not necessary, Zak.” Still, his dad wouldn’t look at him. “Not like you have a real job, anyway. Doesn’t seem right taking that from you.”
Real job?
He had to say something, even if it upset his dad. “This is a real job. It’s the hardest fuckin’ thing I’ve ever done.”
“I didn’t mean that. I just think you need to put the past aside. You’re never going to be able to pay it all back, so just quit trying. I’ve given up. So should you.”
“But I owe you, Dad. I want to make it right.”
“Forget it, Zak. You saved me from the folly of my past, in a way. Your mom will tell you I was one pissed off guy. She reminds me every day maybe I loved that car too much. Now. If you ever want to borrow another one, just for the record, the answer is no.”
Before his parents left, his mother asked him if he’d had any communication with Amy. Zak told her the truth: no.
“She came by the house one day, brought me some flowers, and asked about you. I let her in. Told her you’d just made it through BUD/S and were off for your other training. We had tea. She thanked me.”
“I hope you were okay with that. I haven’t talked to her since the night before I left. We agreed to leave it that way, Mom.”
“She looks different. She’s moving to San Francisco, she said. She told me to say hi and to call her if you felt like it.” His mom smiled.
“What?”
“She said she had stopped herself several times from dialing your number, because that’s what you’d agreed.”
“We did. What’s so danged funny?”
“She said talking to me was breaking the rules a bit, but then she said you two always did break a few rules along the road.”
“That’s true. That’s certainly true.” Zak was thinking those were the best parts of their relationship.
“So I guess I’m breaking a few of my own. I told you to stay away from the Amys of the world. Now I’m not so sure about that. I think she really cares for you.”
Amy didn’t call him, and he wasn’t going to start that up again. He needed to focus on his training. After