Fifteen Years After My Father Changed the Locks, He Seated Me at Table Twenty-Two

“It must be hard coming back here after fifteen years of just following military orders,” Richard said.

I met his eyes without moving my ring.

“Commanding air rescue operations in active combat zones takes real building, Mr.

Hail,” I said.

Richard stared at me, his jaw tightening slightly before he looked away toward the bar.

“Well,” Richard said, checking his watch again.

“The speeches start at seven thirty.”

He turned on his heel and walked toward table one, leaving me standing near the double doors.