Page 26 of The 6:20 Man

CHAPTER

16

THEY SAT OUTSIDE AND TOOK in views of the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island set over churning, brackish water. The weather was nice, if humid. A storm might be rolling in as storms often did this time of year after the day’s buildup of heat. It was Mother Nature’s way of venting. They were sitting under an umbrella, but the sun had long since passed over them and was starting its drop into the western horizon, where it would later flame the sky into an alchemy of red and gold. When Devine was in the Middle East he never tired of that sight for one reason: He wasn’t sure he’d be alive to see it again.

Stamos ordered chips and guac and a margarita. Devine had a Budweiser.

“They have a lot of good IPAs here,” she pointed out, eyeing his can of beer.

He drank his drink and said, “Bud is fine with me right now.”

“You had a Sapporo last night.”

“That was because last night I was fine with Sapporo.”

“Have you been to Japan?” she asked.

He nodded. “And Korea and Germany and all the other usual stops for Army guys.”

“But you were mostly in the Middle East?”

“Yeah, mostly there.”

“And you fought in combat?” she said.

“That was pretty much all there was there. You wanted to talk about Sara?”

Stamos stared down at her hands. “She always seemed so put together. I . . . I actually looked up to her. I had pegged a few people there as possible suicide material, but never her.”

He nodded and said, “She never seemed that way to me either. But you said you didn’t really see that much of her and didn’t know her that well.”

She wouldn’t meet his eye. “That wasn’t exactly true. I know because of the rankings in the Book everyone thought we were bitter rivals.” She paused and drank her drink, looking out at the Statue of Liberty. “But there’s more to life than work.”

“As my old Army buddies used to say, ‘You’re preaching to the choir, Devine.’ ”

She ran her gaze over him. “Devine? Isn’t that Irish? You don’t look Irish.”

“My father’s definitely Irish, with fair skin and reddish hair. But I’m Greek on my mother’s side. My grandparents came over from Mykonos.”

“You definitely take after your mother, then.”

“You Greek on both sides?”

“Through and through,” she replied.

“Siblings?”

“Four sisters. All older.”

“That must have been a fun household,” he said jokingly.

“It was, actually,” she said firmly.

“Stupid remark, sorry.”

“You have siblings?” she asked.

“Yeah, they’re wonderfully perfect and smarter than me and have great lives.”