A few hands went up, and to Geo’s surprise, Rhys said, “I remember him from a few years ago when his platoon rotated through our outpost.” He grinned. “We were bored, and frustrated from planning missions only for the head shed not to approve them.”
The SEALs grunted their understanding—they’d all been there. Most people pictured spec ops units as mavericks who got to do whatever they wanted, when in reality, missions were carefully planned based on gathered intelligence and then sent up the chain of command for approval.
Most were denied, and even the approved ones tended to spin up and then spin right back down.
“So anyway, Cade heard us bitching and organized a baseball game, but not just any baseball game.” Rhys paused. “An opposite-hand baseball game. Whatever your dominant hand was, you could only pitch, throw, bat, whatever, with the other one. That was some of the funniest shit I’ve ever seen, oh, my God. He really saved our sanity.”
Several other guys chimed in with stories about running into Cade over the years, and almost all were about when he’d used humor to boost morale, to motivate or to encourage.
The ever-present lump rose into Geo’s throat. Like that stupid bet. That stupid, wonderful bet.
Miss you, Cade-Man.
At the end of the impromptu memorial service, Renae wiped a few tears from her cheeks. “I loved hearing this. Thank you for letting me see my husband through your eyes.”
Glasses were raised all around.
“To Cade!”
“’Til Valhalla, brother.”
“Long live the brotherhood.”
The toasts finished, someone turned the music back up and the SEALs settled in to party. Renae approached Geo and gave him a long, fervent hug. “I can’t tell you how much today has meant to me and the girls. You’ve helped us feel normal again, and I’ll never, ever forget it.”
He hugged her back, then said tentatively, “Ari invited me to watch one of her games. Is that—”
“Of course it’s fine with me, but Geo, it’s not your job to play dad, you know. If you don’t want to—”
“I want to.” Taking a deep breath, he went on, “I lost my own father at about her age. Yeah, it’s different, but in some ways it’s the same. I know what it’s like to be a grieving little kid.”
Standing on tiptoe, she pressed a kiss to his cheek. “You’ll be a blessing to her, then, George. And to me. Thank you.”
After she’d headed inside to check on the kids, Lani walked up and took his arm. “You okay?”
He told her about his conversation with Ari on the roof. “I keep taking your advice to talk about the person Cade was. Hands down, it’s the best advice I’ve ever gotten.”
She smiled, a warmth in her gold-flecked eyes that sent an answering quiver through him. “Every life has meaning, no matter how it ended. Focusing on that makes all the difference.”
He couldn’t help but tilt her chin up to give her a gentle kiss. “You’ve made all the difference.”
Her face softened. “Geo, I—”
Whatever she was about to say was lost when Devon called out, “Hey, Lani, get over here! We have baby shower questions!”
With an apologetic wrinkle of her nose, she squeezed his arm and headed over to the lively group of women. Not far away from them, Rhys leaned against the railing talking to Matt and Shane, who were standing arm in arm, Shane’s hand resting possessively on Matt’s hip.
Something Rhys said made them burst into laughter, and Shane pulled Matt closer and kissed the top of his head.
“That’s some fuckin’ next-level shit.”
Turning, Geo saw Grizz sprawled out with a beer in hand, staring at Matt and Shane. He grunted. “Apparently everything is to you, man. What is it now?”
“That.” Grizz lifted his chin toward the two men, in the next instant letting out a yelp when his wife leaned over and swatted him on the arm.
“Are you serious? Two guys in love and showing affection? That’s surreal to you?”
“What?” An expression of sincere confusion flitted across Grizz’s face. “No! What I mean is, look at him! Knytych’s smiling. Baby, he never smiles, not like that.”
Geo had to agree. “It’s true.”
Indeed, Matt’s happiness radiated from him, the kind of happiness that came from having found his place in the world, and from knowing that he was loved.
“They’re some of my favorite dudes, you know,” Grizz went on indignantly. “I’d never hate on them.”
His wife wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him into a repentant hug. “I misunderstood. I’m sorry.”
“You should be,” he groused, even as he hugged her back. “They’re my friends, babe.”
Geo left them nuzzling, and wandered closer to the group just as Rhys crouched behind both Lani’s and Devon’s chairs and whispered something that made them both look at Matt.
“You can sing?” he heard Lani say. “Really?”
“Like an angel,” Devon assured her as Matt rolled his eyes.
“Arts and theater, not much else to do at a North Dakota high school,” he said jokingly. “I wanted to stay warm.”
“Except he’s really, really good,” Devon said. “I’m the one who looked like a chump singing karaoke with him.”
“Lani can sing.” Rhys squeezed her shoulder, laughing when she turned to swat at him. “Get her drunk enough and she’ll serenade you.”
Hoots from around the group as she raised her voice to be heard over them. “Whoa, whoa! It’ll be a long time before I’m ever that drunk again.” She pointed to her baby bump. “So don’t hold your breath, people. I don’t sing sober.”
“And I only sing when I’m trying to convince certain clowns I don’t care about the date he’s flaunting in my face,” Matt chimed in, yanking away from Shane in mock disgust. “I never asked, who was that guy anyway?”
“Nobody, my love,” Shane said as he wrapped his arms around Matt’s waist and pulled him back against him. “Absolutely nobody.”
Wistfulness and a feeling of disconnect drove Geo off the deck and out into the shadows of the backyard. After all, he didn’t really belong here. His time in this platoon was only temporary, and it’d be over soon enough.
Then what?
Then he’d focus on his career. He’d make Chief, and move into leadership, where he’d be able to mentor young SEALs. Yeah, it’d certainly be rewarding, to help usher the next generation of young men—and maybe soon young women—into the ranks.