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“How could I forget? One of the craziest nights of my life.”

“I don’t think we’ll get that crazy tonight.?

??

He laughed. “That’s what you always say. I’ll meet you there around seven. That work for you?”

“Sounds great. Good to hear your voice.”

“Yeah, you too man. Later.”

I ended the call. Afghanistan, even at the late stages of a war that had lasted longer than a decade, had been a place where lifelong bonds were formed for better or worse.

Was that why Rose wouldn’t vacate my thoughts? Maybe a night of drinking with Ryan would help so that I could finally move on. I didn’t need a crazy woman in my life, no matter how much I enjoyed her in bed.

After talking to Ryan, my spirits lifted enough to make the afternoon tolerable.

While reading an autobiography from a man who had served in Vietnam, I kept glancing over at my phone, thinking Rose might call. But she never did.

Fucking women.

* * *

Later that evening, I walked in the bar like I owned the place. It was pretty much empty, which wasn’t surprising for a Tuesday night. Most normal people who frequented bars had to work hard for their drinking money.

I found Ryan sitting at the bar and walked over. Taking a seat on a stool to his right, I patted his back as he looked in the other direction. He turned around and smiled the moment he saw me. We had been through so much together.

“How you been?” he asked and then turned to the bartender. “Two glasses of your top-shelf single malt.”

“Not bad. Yourself?” I said.

“Things went to hell after I got back.”

I nodded. “Yeah. Same for me.”

“Really? You seem to be doing okay for yourself. I mean, you’re drinking on a Tuesday night!”

“Oh, I’m doing okay. I’m glad you came.”

“No problem.”

When the bartender returned with our drinks, I pulled out a twenty and slid it to him. “Keep it,” I said.

He nodded before wandering down to the other end of the bar.

I lifted the glass. “To the family the government gives you,” I said.

Ryan grinned as he clinked his glass against mine. We both took healthy swigs.

Ryan set his glass down on the weathered wooden bar-top, while I kept mine in my hand, staring at the floating ice cubes.

“What’s on your mind?” he asked. “I can see it on your face.”

“Remember that reporter chick who showed up and got kicked out by Captain Jacoby?”

“Yeah. What about her?”

“I looked her up.”