“Private caller,” read the phone’s display. Sean Mullins looked at the phone with contempt. His instinct was to just let the call go to voice mail, but the ringing had already broken his concentration. Staring at the CAD drawings all morning had only produced a headache. Perhaps the distraction would do him good. He picked up the phone and rolled his chair back, out of the shade and against the glass wall. Instantly he felt the radiant heat from the window warm his back.

“Control systems, Mullins,” he snapped into the receiver.

“Mr. Mullins, my name is Eugene Santos, and I represent a gentleman who is very interested in employing you.”

“Is this a joke? Is that you Kevin?” No one outside the company and his immediate family had his direct number.

“I assure you I am not joking. I would prefer if we could have this conversation in person. Are you available for lunch?”

“Look, I already have a job that I’m very happy with so you’re just wasting…”

“I am quite aware of your current position, Mr. Mullins. In fact, it is your accomplishments in this capacity that have led my client to seek to recruit you. You are very good at what you do, and those skills are quite valuable. If you’d give me a few minutes of your time I’d like to explain to you just how lucrative the position we have in mind for you could be.”

“I’ve got a lot of work to do here, so if you have an offer to make let’s hear it.”

“As much as I’d like to, a certain amount of discretion is called for here. This is a very competitive world, as I’m sure you know. Suffice to say, we are seeking your assistance in a field that you have been very interested in for quite a long time. A field in which your current employer is not offering you any opportunities. And, as I said, we are willing to pay quite handsomely for your services.”

Sean had to admit, he was suddenly interested. A field he’d been interested in…he didn’t like how much this Santos knew about him. How did he know what opportunities he was being offered? He was the chief engineer for the entire control systems division, he could work on any project he wanted to. Except….

“What field are we talking about here?”

“Again, Mr. Mullins, that is something that I am only comfortable discussing in person.”

“Okay. Chipotle on Camelback at 11:30.”

“I look forward to seeing you there Mr. Mullins. Thank you for your time.”

“How will I know who you…?” but the line was dead.

“Kathy! My goodness, what happened? You look like you ran here!”

“The air conditioning on my car went out. Can you believe it?! 112 degrees and no A/C! I thought I was going to bake before I got here. I hate this damn desert!”

“Let’s get you some ice water. Waiter! Now relax, I’ll give you a ride home and Sean can get a tow truck to come get your car and take it to get the A/C fixed. Lord knows you can’t live in Phoenix without it.”

“I swear Julia, I love you to death, but I’d move out of this hell hole in a heartbeat if I had the chance.”

“You and me both. But we both know that Sean and Kevin have too much invested in AeroSys to leave now. And besides, you’ve got your father-in-law to think about.”

“I know, but I can dream right?”

“Look, why don’t you call Sean to get things moving on your air, and after lunch we’ll go over to the Fashion Square?”

“I tried to call Sean on the way here, but he’s gone to lunch with some client. The office secretary said it wasn’t scheduled and she didn’t know when he’d be back.”

“Well I’m sure he’ll call you when he gets the message. Now, where is that waiter?”

“Mr. Mullins, a pleasure to meet you.” Eugene Santos looked exactly like Sean had imagined. Immaculately groomed, a navy three-piece suit despite the summer heat, lots of gold jewelry and tasseled loafers. He was a lawyer if ever there was one, and an expensive one at that.

“So what’s the deal?” Sean asked as they left the line and sat down with their lunch. Judging by the way Santos was staring at his burrito, Sean guessed he’d never set foot in a Chipotle before.

“I appreciate your impatience, Mr. Mullins.” Santos looked relieved to be distracted from attempting to eat his lunch. “If you’ll grant me one last indulgence I’ll explain exactly what the situation is. I’m sure you’re familiar with these,” he said, sliding a legal sizepiece of paper across the table.

“A non-disclosure agreement?” Sean sneered incredulously. “What the hell is this?! I don’t appreciate you wasting my time.”

“I don’t believe in wasting anyone’s time, Mr. Mullins, least of all my own. The NDA is a necessary evil in the unlikely event you find the offer I’m going to make you unsatisfactory. As I said earlier on the phone, this is a very competitive world and my employer is taking a significant financial risk entering into this field. The key to success will be establishing market leadership and the longer work can go on away from prying eyes, the better the chances of that are.”

“New market? That I’ve been interested in for a long time. Are we talking about what I think we are?”

“Very possibly,” said Santos slyly, “but we can’t be sure until you sign the NDA.”

“Okay Princess, while your mom’s out to lunch and your dad’s at work, I’m in charge. And my first order is that you need to go get an ice-cream bowl.”

“Yeah! This is going to be the best Summer ever, isn’t it Grandpa?”

“It will be if I have anything to say about it!” he said, cheered by the light and wonderment in her eight-year-old eyes. “Now, will that be chocolate or vanilla?”

“Both!”

“That’s my girl,” he said as his smile grew even wider. He placed both hands on the table and prepared to stand up. Slowly, he pushed himself up off the chair, careful not to bang his legs on the underside of the table and set of the inevitable cascade of bruises. He looked contemptuously at his cane as he shuffled slowly past it. He’d use the damn thing when Sean and Kathy were around, if only to keep them off his back. But now it was just him and his granddaughter, and he refused to lean on that aluminum stick.

His hands ached as he scooped out the hard, frozen ice cream, and he wished Kathy had bought fudgecicles instead. He knew if he asked her to get those instead though she’d ask him a million questions about why, and have him signed up to see the doctor again before he knew it. Her heart was in the right place, but the constant concern about his health was draining. He was an old man, and aches and pains were the price, simple as that. The arthritis was adept enough at making its presence known without her constant reminders.

“Aren’t you going to have some, Grandpa?” she asked as he set the bowl in front of her. “You could share mine.”

“No honey, Grandpa can’t eat that stuff anymore.”

“Why not?”

“Well, Grandpa’s old body doesn’t know what to do with all the sugar in there. And the sugar free ice cream that I can eat tastes awful.”

“Blech,” she said and wrinkled up her nose. “I remember when Mommy got that ice-cream for your birthday. Can’t you eat regular ice-cream and then brush your teeth?”

“No, Sweetie,” he laughed, continually amazed by her innocent questions. “It’s not Grandpa’s teeth that don’t like the sugar, it’s the way the sugar goes in Grandpa’s blood.”

“Is that why Daddy has to give you those shots at night?”

He paused for a moment, startled. How did she know about that? “Yes, Sweetie, it is,” he finally said, hoping his anger didn’t show through.

“I remember the first time I saw Daddy with the needle. I got up to get a glass of water and he had it in the kitchen. I thought he was going to give me a shot! I got scared but Daddy said it was just your medicine. I don’t like shots. Do they scare you Grandpa?”

“They sure do Sweetie, they sure do.” His anger cooled a bit at her explanation. She had discovered another of the indignities old age had visited upon him quite by accident. In his son’s shoes he was sure he’d have done the same thing. He felt ashamed that his granddaughter had felt one moment of fear because of him, however indirectly. Mostly, he felt ashamed that he needed the insulin shots, and that his son had to administer them. His hand slowly rubbed the bruised band of injection sites around his stomach while he watched her gleefully devour her ice cream.

“Thank you, Mr. Mullins.” Eugene Santos quickly stuffed the signed non-disclosure agreement in his briefcase. “Now, do you know who Jeffery Nielsen is?”

“The internet guy?”

“Yes. Mr. Nielsen is the founder of iBuy.com which, following several recent acquisitions, is now the world’s largest on-line retailer. I’m working directly for Mr. Nielsen as he sets up his next commercial endeavor. And that, Mr. Mullins, is where you come in. You see, you and Mr. Nielsen share a common interest.”

“And what might that be?” asked Sean as coolly as he could, trying to contain the swell of excitement rising up his throat.

“I believe you’ve already guessed. Space flight. More accurately, commercial space flight. Mr. Nielsen is prepared to dedicate a significant portion of his personal fortune toward the establishment of a company that will provide private citizens the opportunity to experience orbital, not sub-orbital, but orbital space flight. Ideally the payload capacity and launch reliability of such a system would also make it an ideal commercial booster as well. But the vision is to provide a path to orbit for individuals.”

Sean was stunned. This was better than anything he’d imagined. “Why me?” he heard himself ask.

“My staff has been researching candidates for the technical roles in this project for months. Now clearly Mr. Mullins, I am not an engineer. But my staff assures me that you are an ideal fit for this position. They seem most impressed by some of your early accomplishments in Florida, particularly the five degrees of freedom testbed you developed.”

“And what position is it that I’m ideal for?”

“Forgive me, I’ve gotten ahead of myself. Here, everything you need to know is in this offer packet.” He handed Sean a large manila envelope, wrapped in plastic shrink-wrap. “Before you open it, let me give you a brief overview, as its contents are of course subject to your NDA.”

“Of course,” said Sean, trying to sound disgusted by the pretense of it all. Inside though he was dying to rip the packet open. A chance to work on spacecraft was what he’d left Florida for. When AeroSys decided to abandon the launch vehicle market after spending millions on a failed defense contract bid, he’d been despondent. Now he was ready to say yes now without even reading the offer.

“We would like you to be the chief engineer charged with developing the vehicle’s control systems. You’ll be assisted in recruiting your own development staff and provided with whatever hardware and software you need. The company has already established a state-of-the-art development, fabrication, and test facility. And I think you’ll find the financial terms are quite generous as well.”

“I get to build my own staff from scratch?”

“Yes. And you will have the resources you need to lure individuals away from their current employers when necessary. And before you even ask, here is an offer packet for Mr. Eubanks.”

“Kevin?”

“As I said, Mr. Mullins, we have researched your qualifications extensively. The publications the two of you have co-authored as well as your string of patents are quite impressive and you obviously collaborate well. We assumed that he would be one of your first choices, assuming of course that you accept the position.”

“That’s a pretty big assumption on your part.”

“Is it, Mr. Mullins? Personally I suspect that you’re very excited by the prospect of working on such a challenging project. And once you’ve had an opportunity to review the terms of the offer, I suspect you’ll find it attractive enough to overcome any difficulties a job change might generate. Now if you’ll excuse me I have a few other matters I must attend to. My card is in the offer packet. The offer will remain in place until 5:00 p.m. Pacific time on Friday, so you have the rest of the week to consider it. If you have any questions please do not hesitate to contact me.”

A quick handshake and Santos was gone, leaving Sean at the small table with the two envelopes. Neither of them had touched their burritos, and he was no longer even aware they were there. He was similarly oblivious to the pointed glances of the lunchtime crowd which coveted his table. His attention was fixed solely on the sealed envelope in front of him, potentially the biggest present he would ever unwrap in his life.

“Is that yours or mine?” asked Julia as the sound of a ringing cell phone emerged from the vicinity of their purses on the restaurant table.

“Mine, I think,” said Kathy as she rummaged through the makeup and car keys. “Ah,” she said, “Its Sean. Hi honey.”

“Where are you?” Sean asked. She immediately sensed the edge in his voice. She’d known he wouldn’t be happy about the air conditioning.

“I’m just having a drink at Z’s at the Fashion Square with Julia. She’ll take me home so if you know which garage you want the car to go to we can just have it towed from here.”

“What? What’s wrong with the car?”

“Didn’t you get my message? Your cell was off so I left a message with Trish. The air conditioning has gone out, again! I swear we could have bought a new car by now with what we’ve spent on this one.”

“Oh. I haven’t been back to the office. Look, I need to talk to you so just stay there, okay? Is Julia going to be there long? Because this needs to stay between you and me right now.”

“No, she was just about to take me home. Is everything okay?”

“Fine. Just tell Julia I’m coming to get you okay? I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

“Um, okay.”

“See you soon.”

Kathy turned back to see the look of puzzled concern on Julia’s face. “Is everything okay with Sean?” she asked.

“Yes,” said Kathy, suppressing her own puzzlement. “I guess he just had a really tough meeting and then the air conditioner on top of it was the last thing he wanted to hear.”

“Ooow. If he had a bad meeting then that means Kevin probably did too. You know how it all rolls downhill!” she laughed. “We’d better get going then.”

“You go on. Sean is going to come here and swap cars with me so he can go get the A/C fixed. I guess he didn’t feel like going back to the office.”

“That must have been one ugly meeting, normally you can’t drag him out of that place. I’ll just wait here with you until he gets here then.”

“You don’t have to,” she said as calmly as she could. “He’ll be twenty minutes or so. I’ll be fine.”

“You sure?”

“Positive. I’ll call you this evening and we can compare notes on the meeting’s fallout!” she laughed to hide the anxiety she could feel creeping up her spine.

“Now that you’ve got a tummy full of ice-cream, what would you like to do with the rest of our afternoon?” When Sean had been her age he would have put the sprinkler on the lawn and simply let him run through it. The flagstone and pebbles of the xeriscaped back yard wouldn’t accommodate that, though.

“Can we go downstairs and play with your train Grandpa? Please please please!”

He should have known that was coming. She loved the little city he’d constructed in the basement. He loved it too, and missed it terribly. Countless hours in the comfortable underground coolness had gone into its construction. Arranging the buildings, painting details on the little figures, all done with meticulous care. The painting had been the first activity to go as his eyesight and arthritis had conspired to make the detailed brush strokes impossible. Then the trip down, and especially back up, the stairs had become progressively slower and more painful. What had once been a daily retreat became a bi-weekly, then a monthly treat which he paid for in aches the next day. Now he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been down there, and his heart grew heavy as he thought of the dust collecting on every surface, his painstakingly detailed work fading beneath a growing layer of gray time.

“Sure, Sweet Pea. Let’s just clean this up first. Bring me that ice cream bowl and I’ll rinse it out.”

She jumped from her seat, her surprise that he’d agreed evident in the smile that burst across her face. She handed him the spoon and bowl and began to hop up and down in circles around him, making him nervous. “You go wash your hands and face and then run on down there. I’ll just rinse these out and I’ll be down in a minute. Don’t touch anything until I get there, got it?”

“Got it,” she said and was off like a shot.

He carried the bowl slowly back to the kitchen. As he bent to place it in the sink the dry desert air and his own papery skin failed him and the bowl dropped against the stainless steel basin, shattering. One of the shards bounced back up, its edge rolling across the back of his hand. Blood, thinned by the coumadin he’d taken for years to prevent clots from forming in his lungs, immediately ran down to his palm and splashed into the sink. He stared at it for a moment, forever amazed that his veins now pulsed with this pink water, that it could keep him alive. He’d seen so much blood, in the war, as a cop. It wasn’t supposed to look like this. It should ooze and drip, not flow like water. But this was one more insult of old age, his blood didn’t even work the way it was supposed to. He thought for a moment about just standing there, watching it. Because the one thing he could count on his blood to do was to keep coming. It would not clot, would not stop bleeding until it had all run down the drain.

“Grandpa! I’m waiting!” Her voice from downstairs snapped him back to reality.

“Honey! Can you come up here and bring Grandpa the phone?”

“You’re going to take it, aren’t you?” Her face was alight with enthusiasm that Sean had no idea how to crush. “I can’t wait to see the look on Julia’s face. I want to be there when you tell Kevin. This is so exciting!”

“Did you read the whole thing?”

“Of course I did Sean, what’s the problem?”

“Bellingham, Washington?”

“I know! Isn’t it great? You get to work on rockets and I get to leave this God-forsaken desert.”

“What about Dad?”

There it went. The smile, the light in her eyes, the enthusiasm, all gone. She looked down at the table, steeling herself, Sean thought, to say the words that would draw the line. “He could come with us,” she timidly offered, looking at Sean only long enough to say the words and then turning her eyes back to the table.

“You know he can’t. It’s cold and its wet there, and his arthritis is almost more than he can handle here.”

“I know,” she said sheepishly, then let out a long sigh. “It’s just that this is an opportunity for all of us. For you to do the work you’ve always wanted to do and for me to get out of this desert, to live somewhere where Stacey can play outside in the Summer. You know I hate it here and I hate that she’s growing up running from one air conditioner to the next.”

“I can’t just leave him. And he can’t live on his own.”

“For the money they’re offering you we could see to it that he’s set up in a nice assisted living facility.” She’d said it.

“You know he’d rather die than go to a nursing home like Mom did.”

“They’re not nursing homes. They’re apartments, nice apartments, where he’d still have all of his freedom. There would just be somebody there for him if he needed help. And this is nothing like what happened with your mother. She had dementia and needed to be looked after constantly.”

“I know. But I also know he still hasn’t forgiven himself for putting her in there. The way she deteriorated so quickly. He blames himself. In his mind she felt abandoned and that’s why she died so soon after. How can I do the same thing to him?”

“Sean you know this is different.”

“And what about Stacy? He lives to spoil her.”

“Honey, you’re not going to get another opportunity like this. You pass this up and it’s never going to come around again. I know you love your dad. You know I love him too. But you’ve got to live your life. Why don’t you ask him? You know he’d want you to take this.”

“I’m not going to put this on him. Not a word to him, got it?”

“Sean!”

“No. Not yet anyway. I need to think about it okay? Just promise me you won’t say anything to him yet.”

“If that’s what you want. But you know you’re going to have to talk to him about it sooner or later.”

“Not if I don’t take it. He never needs to know about it. And neither do Julia and Kevin.”

“Are you listening to yourself? Can’t you see how many people’s lives are going to be changed forever by this? And you just want to make up your mind all on your own without including anyone? Why did you even tell me about it if you weren’t going to listen to a word I had to say? Why dangle this in front of me?”

Sean was wondering that himself. At the same time, he knew she was right. This kind of chance would never come again. An even darker thought had been nagging him since it crawled into his mind on the way to the mall. Dad’s health wasn’t the greatest. What if he turned the offer down and a month later Dad took a turn that made a nursing home the only option? Or what if he passed away? He’d spend the rest of his life wondering what he’d given away to maintain the status quo for a few weeks. Could Kathy forgive him that? Could he forgive himself? But could he live with the thought of his father, who had always been there for him, sitting alone in an apartment thousands of miles from anyone he cared about? Which burden would be heavier?

His thoughts were interrupted by the ringing of Kathy’s cell phone.

The ride home from the hospital was a quiet, uncomfortable one. Sean drove in silence, his expressionless face hiding the tortured convolutions within as he contemplated the future of his father. He rode in the back seat with a fast asleep Stacey, cradling his heavily bandaged hand. On top of everything else, he felt an immense guilt that it was he who was in charge of his father’s fate. Whatever he chose to do, he had to acknowledge that it was the son who would be dictating events to the father. He felt like he was stripping the last vestiges of control from a man who didn’t deserve to be so confined. At 19 he’d stormed a beach to help free a continent, and had given much of the rest of his life to patrolling the streets to keep a city safe. Now it seemed the miniature city in the basement was the last place where he held sway, and even that might be fading to the dusty corner of a storage room.

Kathy stared out the passenger window, chin planted firmly in her hand. Despite the pollution of the city lights, the sky teemed with stars, obscured only at the horizon by the black mass of the mountains ringing the valley. She longed to escape past those saguaro-studded prison walls that held in the heat and the dust, to grab the wheel and point the car north and just keep going. Even if it was just to Sedona or Flagstaff, it would be cooler there. Quieter too, she thought as Sean turned the ignition off and the drone of the neighborhood’s air conditioning units bore through the window glass. The dashboard clock read 12:48.

The mood hardly lightened when they got home. After putting Stacey to bed, Kathy immediately retired wordlessly to the bedroom.

“I’m really sorry,” Sean’s father muttered, staring down the hallway where Kathy had just disappeared without saying goodnight. “It was a hell of a freak accident.”

“It’s okay Dad, she’s not mad at you.” Sean felt even gloomier at the thought of his father shrinking from disapproval.

“Oh? Everything okay?”

“Yeah, nothing that won’t blow over in a day or two.” He knew his dad well enough to know that he wouldn’t pry any further.

“Well, its been a long day Son. I think I’m going to turn in.”

“Sure Dad, I’ll be there in a minute.”

Sean headed to the kitchen and began to gather the supplies for their nightly routine. A bottle of alcohol, bag of cotton balls, sterile syringe pack, band-aid, anti-bacterial soap. He washed his hands slowly and thoroughly and used the paper towel he dried them with to turn the water off. Still clutching the paper, a barrier between his hands and the world, he retrieved the insulin vial from the refrigerator, leaving the door open. He tore open the sterile packaging and removed the syringe, popping the protective cover off with one hand. He slowly drew the required amount of liquid into the barrel, then quickly returned the vial to the refrigerator and shut the door with his foot. He then placed the syringe between his palms and rotated it rapidly for a few seconds to gently warm the fluid within. Finally, he held the syringe up to the kitchen light, carefully tapping it to ensure any air bubbles accumulated at the top, where he slowly forced them out.

As always, his father had left the door to his bedroom slightly ajar, the understood signal that he was inside, waiting, ready. The room was large but sparsely furnished. A few photos hung on the wall, mostly of old police buddies. A certificate of retirement from the police force hung over the head of the bed. A chest of drawers sat against the wall opposite the foot of the bed, its large top graced with three framed photographs. These were jokingly known as the fashion show: Sean’s mother in her wedding dress, Sean in his college cap and gown, Stacey in her christening gown. They were prized possessions and the smeared fingerprints on the frames bore testament to the amount of time they were handled. On more than one occasion Sean had awoken at odd hours to hear a faint mumbling coming from his father’s room, but only once had he peeked through the cracked door. The sight of his father sitting at the foot of the bed, talking to his mother’s picture was both more touching and more heartbreaking than he could bear to see again.

The only other piece of furniture was a small bedside table. Its primary function was to hold whatever Western paperback was acting as a sleep aid at the moment, and to offer a nighttime home to a 50 year-old Timex. It also held the mug. A garish, tie-dyed creation with a wide, non-slip base and bright yellow letters, the travel cup proclaimed “World’s Greatest Dad,” and in smaller letters, “Key Largo, FL.” An eight-year-old Sean had picked it out for his father while visiting Florida with his mother over the summer. Sean asked his father once why, out of all the school projects and Father’s Day gifts, it was the mug he chose to keep close.

“Two reasons,” he’d said. “First, that was the first gift you ever picked out for me yourself.”

“How do you know Mom didn’t pick it out for me?” Sean asked playfully.

“Because your mother would never buy anything that ugly.”

Sean had laughed at that very true observation. “And the second?”

His father’s expression had turned grim. “Because it saved my life,” he’d said.

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Do you remember when you were 10 and I got shot in that 7-11 robbery?”

“Yeah.”

“I walked in and the kid was going through the register. He’d knocked the cashier unconscious, so it was really just the two of us in the store, looking at each other. He panicked and shot me in the gut and ran. So I’m laying there and it hurts like hell, and the blood coming out is thick and black. I’d seen that happen to guys in the war, so I knew it meant the bullet had hit my liver, and if I didn’t keep a lot of pressure on it I’d bleed to death. The cashier can’t call 9-1-1, so I crawl back out to my cruiser and I radio in for help. Then I’m just sitting there, and it feels like my whole stomach is on fire. All I want to do is go to sleep. Just close my eyes and wait for the ambulance to get there. But I know that if I pass out, I’m a goner. I kept your mom’s picture on the visor, and I’m looking at it and I’m thinking “She”ll understand. She’s a nurse, she’ll know how much this hurts.’ But then I look at the dash and here’s this big, ugly cup that says “World”s Greatest Dad.’ And I’m thinking I wouldn’t be so great if I gave in now, would I? So I just stared at that mug. I didn’t even hear the sirens, didn’t know the ambulance was there until they pulled me out of the car.”

Sean’s goosebumps at the memory of that story were enough sensation to draw him back to the present. His father was sitting at the foot of the bed, head turned slightly to the right, away from the door, as if he were staring out the window. The blackness of the desert night and the bedroom light had turned the glass into a mirror, but Sean suspected his father was looking at something far behind them both. His t-shirt was rolled up, and above the waistband of his blue boxers was the trail of injection sites, purple and bruised from his thin blood’s efforts to staunch the slightest pinhole. In the two years since his father’s hands had become too unsteady to give himself the injections, Sean had never grown accustomed to seeing his father this way.

Monday meant returning to the left side of his stomach. The bruises here were the most faded, having had the week to recover as the subsequent shots had moved to the right. Sean gently wiped the site, apologizing as he did every night for the slight wince the cold alcohol elicited. He then quickly jabbed the needle in, drew the plunger back slightly, then depressed it quickly and withdrew the needle, covering the hole with an alcohol laden cotton ball. A small circular band-aid then took its place.

“Good night, Dad.”

“Good night, Son.” His father’s eyes never turned from the window. He sat motionless as Sean left the room and quietly drew the door to. Sean never knew how long his father sat there, staring at the window after he left. He never knew what thoughts might be going through his father’s head as he sat there. He never saw the tears.

“Hey Sean.”

“Hey Kevin. Thanks for picking me up.”

“No problem. We can’t leave Kathy without A/C now can we? You ready for the design review this afternoon?”

“Not as ready as I’d like to be, but we’ll get through.”

“Still working the electromagnetic shielding problem?”

“Yep.”

“You’ll figure it out. You always do.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“That’s what deputies are for, isn’t it?”

“You’ll be a division manager before you know it you keep brown-nosing like that.” Sean laughed for the first time in over 24 hours.

“Listen Sean, on a serious note, you and I have always been straight with each other, so I’m not going to beat around the bush here. I know about the job offer, well offers, you got yesterday.”

Sean sank into the seat. At 7:00 a.m. it was already over 90° outside, but he wished he was walking to work now. The heat couldn’t begin to match the discomfort he suddenly felt. “News travels fast,” he said darkly.

“Kathy told Julia, but swore her to secrecy. Julia told me as soon as she hung up the phone but swore me to secrecy. You know how it goes. But look, what I want to say is I understand the position you’re in, and whatever you choose to do is cool with me, okay? You’re the best boss I’ve ever had and you’re a damn good friend too. So if you decide you want to stay here, you won’t hear a word about it from me.”

“Thanks Kevin, I appreciate that.” Somehow Sean doubted Kevin was truly that ambivalent, but the fact he’d even pretend to be was comforting.

“Least I can do, really. You know before you took over the division I was about to leave and try my luck out in California. Four years, six patents, and two promotions later I’m loving every day at work.”

“So if I decide to take it, will you come out there with me?”

“Bet your ass I would! But I’m happy where I am too. Honestly. You make this decision on your terms, and if its not right I’ll forget I ever even knew about it, okay?”

“Okay.”

“So tell me about this shielding problem. What are you thinking?”

“Son, you know I don’t like to pry, but what the hell is going on with you and Kathy?”

Sean had wondered how long it would be before his dad asked. He stared out into the back yard, through the fog of the misters vainly trying to keep the heat at bay. He was struck by the way the air above the stone landscaping shimmered almost as vibrantly as it did above the fading embers of the charcoal grill. The past two days the tension in the house had been palpable. The strained smiles around their daughter had grown fainter, and the effort of pretending nothing was wrong was exhausting. Sean was almost thankful his father was trying to pierce the illusion, and he considered letting him, if only to get some rest.

“Nothing really Dad, just a disagreement.”

“So it wouldn’t have anything to do with a new job offer?”

Sean felt his skin tighten as an electric shock of panic surged through his body. “I thought so,” said his father, his suspicions confirmed by the look on Sean’s face.

“Who said anything about a job offer?” Sean said quickly, trying to recover. He knew this wouldn’t deter his dad, but denial was the only stalling tactic he could come up with.

“Cut the crap, Son. Julia called this afternoon while I was taking a nap and the phone woke me up. I don’t know what Kathy was doing but she didn’t answer it and the machine picked up. Julia’s message said something like “has Sean decided whether or not to take the new job yet?” So the women are gossiping about a new job at the same time you and Kathy quit talking and you look like you’ve got the world on your back. Even if I hadn’t been a cop for 27 years I’d say something was going on. So spill it.”

“It’s just a job offer that I don’t think I’m going to take. Its not that big a deal.”

“So why are Kathy and Julia hanging on a thread about it?”

“I don’t know. I’m surprised myself.”

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on or am I going to have to get it from Kathy?”

“It’s no big deal! Why are you so interested all of the sudden?” Sean instantly regretted letting his anger slip. It wasn’t his father he was mad at. He really didn’t know where to direct his anger.

“Because I spent an hour this afternoon trying to explain to my granddaughter that her mommy and daddy still love each other, they’re just trying figure something out. And just like when you’re trying to figure out a hard problem, you need some quiet to focus. And that’s why Mommy and Daddy aren’t talking.” His voice had taken on a cold sharpness Sean had never heard before. He imagined this was what it felt like to be interrogated by his father when he’d been a police detective.

“I’m sorry Dad. I didn’t mean to put you in the middle of this.”

“She’s a bright kid Son. Did you think she wouldn’t notice?”

“I guess I wasn’t really thinking.”

“Well I’ll tell you what I think, since you don’t seem willing to tell me anything about it. I think you got an offer that’s pretty great, but it mean’s you have to move somewhere I won’t want to go. And Kathy wants you to take it, and you want to too. But you don’t want to leave your old man behind. That’s why you won’t tell me about it. And you’re hoping that if you drag your feet long enough the whole thing will just go away. Am I close?”

“You always were a good cop.”

“You don’t need to be a cop to figure this out. So come on now, what’s going on?”

Sean took a deep breath. He knew in a few minutes both of their live would change forever. He’d known it since lunch with Santos, he’d just been afraid of this moment. Now he felt ashamed of that fear, more like 15 than 45, scared his father would be disappointed in him. He didn’t know which fear was worse, that his dad would feel let down, or abandoned. “There’s this guy, Jeffrey Nielsen, he’s one of those internet billionaires. He’s starting a company that aims to make orbital space flights for passengers. And he wants me to be in charge of control systems for the whole thing.”

“Well that sounds great! Do you think it will work?”

“He’s putting a lot of money into it. State-of-the-art facilities, I get to pick my staff. They want me to bring Kevin with me which is why Julia is so interested.”

“Good money?”

“Really good money.”

“So the million dollar question is where is it?”

“Washington state.”

“Cold and wet, huh?”

“Cold and wet.”

His father stared down at the patio, hands clasped in front of him. It struck Sean that he almost looked as if he were praying. His calm demeanor gave no hint as to what he might be thinking. The seconds felt like an eternity.

“So what d’ya think, Dad?”

He didn’t immediately answer, but began tapping his fingertips together. A long pause, a deep sigh. “I think you need to go make a phone call, and Kathy and I need to go for a drive.”

“What?”

“You need to go call whoever it is you need to call to accept this position, and I need Kathy to drive me out to the West Valley to talk to the Sun City folks.”

“Dad, I’m not going to put you in a home.”

“You’re not putting me anywhere. I’m choosing where I’m going to go. I may be an old man but I’m still free to do that. And I’m still your father so I don’t expect any backtalk from you.”

“Dad, you mean more to me than any job. It’s just not worth it.”

“Thank you Son, but this is about more than just me and you. This is about your family, which includes my precious granddaughter. And besides, your mother and I didn’t raise you and put you through school so you could grow up to be my babysitter.”

“Are you sure Dad?”

“What’s there to be sure about? I’m sure not going to freeze my ass off in Washington during the winter!” his father laughed. Sean longed to join in his laughter, but that seemed the expression least appropriate for the heavy sadness he felt.

“Come with me, Son. I want to show you something.” Sean’s father slowly rose from his chair and headed for the sliding glass door. Sean held it and the heavy sun-blocking curtains open for him, then followed behind, stepping into the cold breeze exiting the house. Kathy looked up briefly from the dishwasher she was loading and Sean did his best to flash her a smile. He could tell by the softening in her eyes that she knew exactly what he meant.

Sean followed his father to his bedroom where he slowly lowered himself to sit on the edge of his bed. He opened the drawer on the bedside table and withdrew a small photo album Sean had never seen before. As he flipped through the pages, Sean caught glimpses of aunts and uncles, Dad’s old police partners, Christmases and Thanksgivings. He finally stopped and turned the album around, handing it to Sean and pointing at a Polaroid in the corner of the page. “Recognize that?” he asked.

He’d never seen the photo before but he recognized it instantly. The skinny teenager waving over the railing of a second story balcony was an 18 year-old Sean Mullins. He remembered Mom pointing the giant camera out the car window and snapping the picture as Dad drove away. It was August, 1980, and they were headed home to Florida and he was staying to start college in Boston.

“You mother looked at that photo and cried for a hundred miles. I kept telling her not to worry, you’d be fine. And you were. People move on, Son, it’s called life. I was lucky enough to get a few extra years with you and Kathy and Stacey, but I’m not going to cry when you leave. Because there’s nothing to be sad about. Besides, with you and Kathy out of the picture I might just stay up playing poker and smoking the occasional cigar!”

His dad’s laughter was contagious, and Sean couldn’t help but chuckle. He looked back at the long-haired boy in the picture and recalled how he too had been excited at the prospect of new-found freedom. But when he’d stepped off the balcony he’d been surprised at his reaction. Alone, the house full of familiar furniture traded for a dorm room with a few important belongings, and only a telephone to connect him to the people who had been part of his daily life for years. He couldn’t help but see what his father saw, that their roles were now perfectly reversed. He wondered if his dad would feel as overwhelmed as he had.