I finally laughed.
“Relax. Nobody helped you.”
“That is not what I’m worried about.”
“What are you worried about?”
“What did they tell you?”
“Very little.”
“How little?”
I waited.
He groaned.
“Emily.”
“One person said you complained less than expected.”
“That could mean anything.”
“Another said you were stubborn.”
“That definitely means anything.”
“One said you needed to improve your land navigation.”
His eyes widened.
“I knew it.”
“Knew what?”
“Chief Mercer stared at me differently after that disaster.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“You called him.”
“I did not.”
“You emailed him.”
“No.”
“You sent some captain-level telepathic message.”
I laughed again.
Ryan stared at me.
Then shook his head.
“This is insane.”
“What?”
“I spent years thinking you were lost.”
I stopped smiling.
He noticed immediately.
“I didn’t mean—”
“I know.”
He sat back down.
I looked toward the water.
“I was lost once.”
He said nothing.
“When I left college, Dad wasn’t completely wrong. I had no idea what I wanted.”
Ryan waited.
“The Navy didn’t magically fix me. I failed things. I embarrassed myself. I got yelled at. I almost quit more than once.”
“You?”
“Frequently.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“You shouldn’t believe myths about people you love.”
That sentence settled between us.
Ryan looked down again.
“Did you ever think about telling us everything?”
“Many times.”
“Why didn’t you?”
I considered the answer.
“Because every time I came home, you all seemed more interested in deciding who I was than asking.”
He closed his eyes.
“That’s fair.”
“And later…”
I hesitated.
“What?”
“Later I stopped wanting my job to be the reason you respected me.”
His face tightened.
