Chapter 11 #2
He hesitated, then did as I asked. His long frame barely fit on the couch, his toes hung off the end, but it would do. I draped the blanket over him, tucking it around his shoulders.
"This is ridiculous."
"So is working yourself to death." I smoothed the blanket over his chest. "Sleep, Code. The investigation will still be there in the morning."
His hand caught mine. Held it against his heart.
"Katherine, before you go. You've told me about how alone you've felt in Hollywood. Can you tell me one good memory? Something that you think back on that makes you smile?"
I looked at him, this man who was coming to mean something real to me.
"I'll make you a deal. I'll do that if you can tell me something about your time in the Army that you look back on with a grin. Is it a deal?"
He gave me a slow smile and pressed my hand even tighter against his chest. "It's a deal. Now ante up."
I settled on the edge of the couch, his hand still holding mine.
"Okay. So, five years ago I was filming this indie drama in Atlanta.
Small budget, nobody famous except me, and I took a pay cut to do it because I loved the script.
" I smiled at the memory. "There was this girl, Maya, maybe seven years old. She played my character's daughter. First time acting, terrified of everything. Her mom was sick, so it was her dad who was on set with her and he wasn’t really helping.”
Code winced. "What happened?"
"First day on set, she froze completely. Couldn't remember a single line. The director was getting frustrated, we were burning daylight and budget." I traced my thumb across Code's knuckles.
“What did you do?”
“I started flubbing my lines.”
“Good idea.”
“Pissed off the assistant director.”
“Dumbass couldn’t figure out what you were doing?”
“She couldn’t, but the director could. I played it off that I was really worried and I asked Maya if she remembered what I was supposed to say. She did. I figured she would. Usually in a two-person scene you memorize both parts.”
“Clever.”
“That broke the ice. A couple more takes and she was perfect. The director had exactly what he needed. She was fantastic in the film. Really brilliant.”
“Is she still acting?”
“Not right now. She’s in middle school. She wants to focus on her studies. Her mom sends me pictures. My guess is that she’ll end up with a career in film. I really loved that.”
“I remember now, Angie mentioned something about a friend of hers who occasionally teaches acting classes. Is that you?”
I nodded. “I don’t have as much time anymore, so I haven’t done it for a couple of years. But I really enjoyed it. Now it’s your time. Tell me a bedtime story.”
He was quiet for a moment, thumb rubbing circles on my hand.
"Afghanistan, 2019. We were setting up a secure communications network at this tiny outpost in Helmand Province.
Middle of nowhere, hundred and ten degrees, everything covered in dust." His eyes softened with the memory.
"There was this local kid, maybe eleven, who hung around the base perimeter.
Smart kid. Taught himself English by listening to our conversations. "
"What was his name?"
"Fahim. He'd show up every day, asking questions about the computers.
How they worked, what they did, how we kept them secure.
" Code smiled, a real smile that transformed his whole face.
"We weren't supposed to engage with locals beyond basic interaction, but this kid was relentless.
Amber reminds me of him, actually. That same hunger to understand how things work. "
"So, what did you do?"
"I taught him. Nothing too deep, just basic computer science. Binary code, simple programming concepts." His smile widened. "Drew diagrams in the dirt with a stick. He picked it up so fast it was scary. By the end of my deployment, he could write basic code."
"That's beautiful."
"Here's the best part." Code's thumb kept up that gentle rhythm on my hand.
"Three years later, I got a message through back channels. Fahim had made it to Kabul. He got into a university program for computer science. Full scholarship. The message said, 'Thank you for teaching me the power of knowledge.’”
My throat tightened. "Code..."
His eyes met mine. “It reminded me why I wanted to serve my country in the first place. Yes, it was to uphold the Constitution. To protect and defend my nation, but it was also to help our allies and teach them how to defend themselves.”
We sat there in the dim light, hands linked, both of us holding memories that mattered more than fame or medals or recognition.
"We're not so different," I said quietly. "You teaching Fahim. Me teaching Maya. Both of us wanting to pass something on."
"Maybe that's why this feels right. You and me." His voice dropped. "We see the same things."
"Yeah. We do."
"Thank you," he whispered. "For seeing me. The real me."
"You're welcome." I squeezed his hand one more time. "Now sleep. I want more stories tomorrow."
"Tomorrow," he agreed, his eyes already drifting closed.
I watched him until his breathing evened out. Within minutes, he was asleep. Really asleep, not just resting his eyes. His face relaxed, the lines of tension smoothing away.
I carefully extracted my hand and retreated to my bedroom.
I fell asleep before my head hit the pillow, and didn't wake once.