He looked thoughtful.
“You know what surprised me the most?”
“What?”
“That you didn’t humiliate me.”
“I wasn’t trying to.”
“You could have.”
“Maybe.”
Frank nodded.
“And you didn’t.”
We reached a bench overlooking the memorial garden. Frank sat down slowly.
“I talked with some of the guys from my old veterans group yesterday,” he said.
“Oh? Word travels fast in a small town.”
I smiled.
“I imagine it does.”
Frank rubbed his hands together.
“One of them said something that stuck with me.”
“What was that?”
“He said, ‘The Marine Corps has always adapted. Every generation thinks the next one is doing it wrong.’”
“That’s a common opinion.”
Frank nodded.
“But he also said something else.”
“What?”
“He said, ‘If the Corps trusted you with command, then maybe I should too.’”
I sat down beside him.
“That sounds like a wise friend.”
“He’s ninety-one,” Frank said. “At that age, you start listening.”
We both laughed softly. Then Frank grew serious again.
“There’s one more thing he said.”
“What’s that?”
“My son.”
“Yes?”
“He loves you.”
“Yes, he does.”
“And if you’re willing to put up with his stubborn old father…”
He paused.
“I’d like the chance to start over.”
I studied him for a moment.
“What would starting over look like?”
Frank thought about that.
“Well,” he said, “for starters, I’d like to invite you back to dinner.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“That’s brave.”
He smiled faintly.
“This time, I promise not to explain the Marine Corps to you.”
