“Heard she left the Navy.”
“Shame.”
Across the room, Gladys looked radiant, smiling beside my father like she owned the entire evening.
Then she spotted me and walked over with a tray of drinks.
“There you are,” she said sweetly. “We need help.”
I looked at the tray.
“If you’re not sitting with family,” she added quietly, “you might as well make yourself useful.”
I held her gaze for a moment.
Then I took the tray. “Sure.”
She smiled like she’d won.
I moved through the crowd, handing out drinks to people who either didn’t know me or pretended they did. One woman gave me a soft, pitying smile.
“And what are you doing now, dear?”
“I work in Virginia.”
“With the Navy?”
Before I could answer, Gladys turned from across the room, watching.
Then the emcee stepped up.
“And now, we’d like to recognize a very special guest joining us tonight.”
The doors at the back opened.
Everyone turned.
A man in full dress whites walked in. Not local. Not casual. The kind of presence that shifts a room instantly.
The noise faded. Conversations stopped. Even the veterans in the front straightened without thinking.
He walked down the aisle.
Toward the stage.
Toward my father.
