Across the room, Mama started, dropping a handful of wooden chopsticks. "Oh, God..." Her hands went to her mouth as she stared at the splotches.

Pop acted quickly, pulling Mama to him. Jennifer held it up. Conrad's bandolier. It was an anachronism; no one wore things like that anymore. Conrad loved it. Thick heavy webbing. Pouches up and down, and grommets for slinging more gear-he told her he usually carried a grenade or two. A huge brass buckle they didn't put on stuff anymore. And there were big, brownish stains above the buckle.

Drew was looking at them, her mouth open.

"I'm so sorry!" Matthews was at her side in several large steps. "I forgot we put that in there." She rubbed at her eyes. "I did my best to get the stains out. A few more washes, and I'll have it. I'm so very sorry. Let me take that out of here."

Jennifer didn't relinquish it. "No. Please. Let me hold on to it. I'll put it back in the duffle."

Nurse Matthews looked to Pop, holding Mama against him. He nodded.

"It's OK. That's fine. As long as it's out of sight."

"I'll leave you to eat, then." And she was gone.

Jennifer folded the bandolier to stuff back in the bag. Drew reached out and touched it, tentatively, as if it might crumble. Once it was stowed, Jennifer sealed the bag and shoved it back into the duffle, then zipped the bag shut and stowed it under a chair. She went over to the table and grabbed a plate.

"I'm starving! Drew, what do you want?"

She dished out plates for both of them, and they sat and ate in silence. Eventually, Mama pulled away from Pop and sat down, taking up Con's hand once more. Pop got plates for both of them, setting hers on the table next to her chair. She ignored it as the rest of them ate in silence.

The ventilator kept whooshing. The monitors kept beeping. In the hospital around them, doctors, nurses and orderlies went about their business.

"I'm thirsty." Drew spoke through a mouthful of orange chicken and rice.

"That's right, I forgot to order drinks." Pop glance around the room. "The nurse left a pitcher of water and some cups."

"I want pop."

Jennifer was surprised Drew was being so bratty. Now was not the time.

Pop felt the same way. "Young lady, if you think you-"

"Jack." Mama sat up and dabbed at her face. "It's okay. It's fine. There's a soda machine somewhere."

"We saw one down the hall, past the elevators." Jennifer finished her plate. She'd been hungrier than she'd thought she could be.

"You have a few dollars, Jack. Why don't we go and get a few cans of pop?" She stood. "I'll come help you carry. I need to stretch my legs." Mama walked to the doorway. "Come on. You need to see some different walls. We need to figure out what to do next."

Mama and Pop left. "Help me, Drew." She started to gather the plates and chopsticks, and Drew came to help her close the take out containers and put them back into the two paper sacs they'd been delivered in. Finished, she stacked everything on one of the small tables and turned back to her brother. He hadn't moved. He couldn't move. "Con. Conrad, I wish you'd wake up. I don't know what I'm supposed to do." Conrad always knew what to do. He was the one she turned to when she couldn't go to Mama or Pop, and she had no answers. She wrote him. Or waited for his calls, which had become sporadic as missions took him all over the globe, but were as close as he could get to every week or so. Whatever she asked, he'd always had an answer. Not always the one she wanted, but an answer. "What do I do?"

He didn't answer, of course. He didn't answer, he hadn't moved; he wasn't going to. Not yet, anyhow. Maybe not ever. The ventilator whooshed. The monitors beeped.

Jennifer rushed over to the television hanging from a bracket on the wall and switched it on. Some black and white movie. Kirk Douglas stalked across the screen. Lana Turner. The Bad and the Beautiful. Jennifer congratulated herself for being able to identify it so quickly.

"I'm thirsty." Drew flopped in a chair. Jennifer glanced over at her, and then looked back at the screen.

"Mama and Pop will be back soon. Probably they want to talk. Get some water from that pitcher." A green plastic pitcher and a stack of large blue cups now sat on the table to the right of the bed.

"But I want pop." Drew pouted.

"Why are you being such a baby? Just get some water. They'll be back with soda pop in a bit." This was a good part, she pulled a chair to the end of Con's bed and sat facing the screen. Behind her, Drew poured herself a cup of water. On the screen Lana Turner walked in on Douglas and whoever played Lila, Jennifer couldn't remember. The shit hit the fan, and Turner played it to thes hilt.

"Wake up." Drew whispered. "Wake up, Duke." This time louder. "Wake up."

"Drew! Shh! I'm watching this. Besides, it doesn't work that way." Jennifer was mesmerized by the battle on screen. She heard Drew refilling her glass.

"You asked for it, Duke." Drew's laugh was followed by a splash. Jennifer spun.

"Drew Falcone what on Earth has gotten into you?" Jennifer hadn't heard Pop bellow like that in a very long time. Not since Con put his fist through the car window. She spun back to where they stood in the doorway, both with a can in each hand. Mama looked livid, Pop enraged. Matthews rushed in behind them.

"What's wrong? What happened?"

Drew stood next to the bed, cup in her hand, smile quickly fading to guilt. "I...I just thought..." Her eyes began to fill. "I just wanted him to wake up."

Conrad's face , hair and pillow were soaked. Water dripped from the ventilator. The blanket pulled up over him was damp to his chest. Jennifer held her breath, hoping, maybe irrationally, that he would sit up, coughing and sputtering. Or maybe wince and turn his head, hand coming up to wipe the water away.

He didn't. He just lay there.

Matthews bustled in, putting herself between Drew and her parents. "Now there, no harm done. Just a bit of water. He was due for a spongebath, anyhow."

"Young lady, you're-" Pop took a step in, but Mama stopped him with an arm over his stomach.

"Stop. Jack stop." She gave him a gentle hug, then walked over to crouch next to Drew, taking the cup from her and setting it back on the table. She pulled a tissue from her sleeve. "Sweetling, I know you want him to wake up. But this kind of sleep..." Mama brushed a loose lock of hair from Drew's face. "This is special. This kind of sleep is very deep. He won't wake up. Not until his body's ready. Drew, you need to understand...your brother's body may decide he needs to let go."

Drew's brow crumpled. "But..."

Pop was looking out the window again. Jennifer couldn't leave her chair. She wanted to watch Nurse Matthews, who had pressed the call button and pulled the top blanket from the bed, then bustled out. She didn't want to listen to what her mother was about to say. Mama stroked Drew's hair.

"He's fought very hard, very bravely for a very long time. He's been hurt more than he let you know. It isn't something just anyone could do...but he's not invincible. You know that." She moved to look into Drew's eyes.

"Mama, if he just woke up. He can't go...I'm not ready, he said he'd teach me to drive, and dance at my sixteenth...and come to my graduation and my wedding and..." Jennifer hadn't even known they'd talked about that kind of thing. Drew had never told anyone a thing about turning sixteen, or even getting married.

"Baby, your brother loves you, and he'd never make you a promise he didn't intend to keep. But he's been hurt really badly. And if he needs to let go-if he needs to leave, we have to tell him we love him and say goodbye." She kissed Drew's forehead. "We have to be ready for that."

"Mama no!" And with a scream Drew broke down. "He can't die! Mama! It isn't true! I don't want him to! Mama!" The tears finally rolled free, and Drew sobbed lustily. Jennifer watched her mother pull Drew to her tightly, holding her and rocking. It was hard to tell which sobs came from whoß.

Jennifer felt jealous. Too old to have the luxury of a tantrum, a good holler, a really fantastic breakdown. But then Pop's arms came around her, and she kneeled on the chair so she could wrap herself in his comfort. Over his shoulder, she saw Bazooka and two other men in robes standing at the doorway, peering in. All three had mustaches. One was bald. A strange nurse and two orderlies pushed by, carrying sheets and a pillow. Matthews followed with a towel.

"Out, boys. Back to bed." She commanded with the authority of any general.

The biggest man grabbed Matthew's arm. "Is everything okay? Duke all right?"

"He's fine, LaFitte, just a little damper than expected."

"Damp?" The third man looked confused. "This some sort of pool party I wasn't invited to?" He glanced at Jennifer. " 'Evening, Miss. Or, technically good morning."

She gave them a small wave over Pop's shoulder. Drew was still bawling, but it was quieter. Bazooka cocked his head and returned her wave.

"Right, boys, out! You heard me. Get back in bed before I remember I needed to run blood tests on the lot of you." Matthews handed the towel to an orderly and put her hands on her hips. "I'm telling you he's fine." The three men fled.

Pop let Jennifer go and stepped back. "It is early. We've been up a long time. We're all tired." He looked at Mama. "You're right, Jane, I'd better get them to the hotel so we can catch a little sleep."

Mama nodded. "This just needed to come. I'm glad it did. I was worried." Drew hid against her, sobs now faded to the occasional sniffle. "Gonzalez is waiting. Call me when you get there."

"We're leaving?" Jennifer wasn't sure she wanted to.

"We are. We need sleep, and we can't do it here." Pop looked to where Matthews and the orderlies waited. "They need to change your brother's bedding, anyhow. He needs a little privacy for that. Your Mama will call us if there's any change."

"Mama?" Jennifer wanted to hear they could stay, or at least stay together. "You're staying?"

Mama let Drew go and dabbed her eyes and nose with a tissue. "Here, blow." Drew did as she was told. "Yes, dear. I'm going to stay with him. I can sleep in a chair, if I need to. I don't feel much like sleeping."

Matthews broke in. "I can probably find a cot. That will at least let you lie back for a bit."

"Can we all have cots?" Jennifer could handle a cot.

"No." Mama smiled, but was firm. "You need a bed. You need rest and to get away, just for a bit. Drew needs a good ten hours sleep. You can get breakfast out, and bring me something. I need to be with him."

There was a time when it was just the two of them. In the beginning, after Mama's first husband died. Before Pop came into the picture. Just Mama and Conrad when he was little. She couldn't for the life of her imagine her brother as a little boy. He'd always been big to her. But when he was little, it had been just him and Mama, and no one else. She took care of him all on her own. And now she was doing it again.

"All right, Mama." Jennifer went and hugged her and Drew together, kissing her mother on the cheek. Then she stood and kissed her brother. The bristles on his face had trapped some water. "Goodnight, Con. I love you. See you tomorrow." She wondered, if he could hear, what was he thinking about it all. Part of him would be laughing.

"Drew, come on, we have to go." Jennifer held out a hand. "We need to sleep."

Drew looked, indeed, spent. The last of her energy had just been used up. All the fight was gone. "Okay."

"Kiss Conrad, okay?" Jennifer helped her perch on a bedrail. "Kiss Duke goodnight."

"Night, Duke." Drew kissed the tip of his nose.

Jennifer whispered in her ear. "Tell him you'll see him tomorrow, so he has something to look forward to."

"See you tomorrow, Duke. I love you."

Jennifer lifted her down. Pop came around, leaned down, and quickly kissed Conrad's forehead. Jennifer had never seen him kiss another man, not even Vince. Certainly never Con.

"Goodnight, son. We'll be back. Hang in there." Just as quickly, he turned to kiss his wife. "I'll call when we get to the room. Sweetheart..." He kissed her again, then held her. "I love you."

Mama kissed him, then held him, then pulled away, giving Pop's hand a final squeeze. "We'll be fine, Jack. I'll wait for your call. Goodnight." She kissed Drew and let pop lead her away. Jennifer followed, listening as Matthews and her team sprung into action.

"Right! Let's get this bed stripped and changed. Marks, Jefferson, get ready to roll him. You don't have to leave, Ma'am, I don't think he'd really mind. Not that he has much say, you're his mother."

They walked down the hall, past the guards, to the elevator. 'Dozer snapped a parting salute as they left. Gonzalez was waiting for them in the lobby. She took them back to the sedan and helped them in. Drew was asleep before they got to the hotel. Gonzalez bypassed the front desk and led them right to a pair of adjoining rooms.

In no time, they were ready for bed. Jennifer rinsed out her toothbrush and helped Drew into her bed. Pop was next door. He'd left the door open between the rooms so they could feel safer. He sat on the edge of his bed, talking softly to Mama, one lamp the only light in the room. Jennifer decided it was best not to listen in. The older she got, the more it occurred to her that Pop and Mama weren't just parents; they were in love. Sometimes, they needed to be with just each other.

She climbed into her own bed and switched out the light.

"Jennifer, come to the phone!"

She climbed up onto the back deck and hollered into the kitchen. "Now? We just got the music going!" Inside the barn, Vincent had his stereo going. They'd spent all day clearing it out and stringing up lights. Long tables were set up, covered with food and buckets full of ice and soda pop.

Josh Fortner was rumored to have a flask in his pocket.

"Yes, right now, this can't wait!" Mama came to peer out the back door, receiver clutched to her chest.

"All right." With a sigh and another look back over her shoulder, she crossed the deck and went into the kitchen. A huge cake was set in the middle of the table for later. Mama had outdone herself this time. Mama was talking to the caller.

"Here she is, I'll talk to you in a bit." Mama held out the phone.

"Who is it?" Jennifer shot her mother a curious look and put the phone to her ear.

"Happy Birthday!" The line was full of static.

"Con?!" She couldn't help but grin. "Con, thanks! I thought you'd call tomorrow, that's the actual day."

" You said in your letter your party was tonight. Besides, I'm not sure I'll be where I'll be where I can get to a radio tomorrow." A loud burst of scratchy noise interrupted, making her yank the phone away from her ear.

Drew pushed through the swinging door, looking excited. "Pop says Duke's on th' phone. I wanna talk t' Duke."

Mama lead her away. "He called for Jennifer."

"Mama!"

Jennifer held the phone to her head again. "Con...it's all noisy."

"Best I can do, I'm afraid. This call is going on through more than a few link-ups. But I can hear Rabbit."

"You want me to put her on?" Jennifer really didn't want to, but then, he might not call again for a while.

"N******** mu***** time!"

"Say that again?" She'd missed it.

"I said, no, I don't have much time!" He sounded a little exasperated. "Dammit, Breaker, is this the best you can do? I know your budget, I sign off on it. The least you co***** is ge*** **d ***n radio call."

Someone muttered something, and the line got clearer. The strange voice suddenly became clear. "-y it now."

"Con? I heard that better!" The static was quieter.

"Yeah? Good. Look, I don't have much time, but I wanted to call while I could." There was a rattle. "Hang on, let me sit down." An odd echo attached itself to his voice.

"Where are you?" He never told her where he was going, he only told her where he'd been. She had a map on her wall, and every time he told her about someplace else, she put a pin in it. There were a lot of pins.

"Egypt."

Egypt? "There are phones in Egypt, Con." Whatever he was there to do, it must have been take care of, or he wouldn't be telling her.

"Not this part." He laughed.

"What's it like?"

"Hot. And then at night it's cold. There's a lot of rock and sand, in this part. We'll be back in civilization day after tomorrow, though. We're heading to Cairo."

"Why not call me then?" She'd prefer more time with him.

"I'll be wrapped up in meetings with officials and politicians." He snorted. "It'll take a few days. Then I have to get back and do the same in DC. Besides, you'll already by sixteen by then."

"I'm already sixteen now, Con." She sat on a kitchen chair. Drew started whimpering again. Mama shushed her and sent her out to the barn with a bag of potato chips.

He laughed. "By my watch you've been sixteen for all of forty five minutes. How does it feel?"

"Okay, I guess."

"What?" The static was back.

"I said-okay, I guess."

"Oh. Good! It's supposed to be sweet!" There was mumbling on his end. "Right. Tell them to move on that. Hey, kiddo, the satellite's going to be too far along to do me any good soon. Have a good party. Tell the boys not to touch you anywhere unless they don't care about having fingers anymore."

"Ha-ha, Con." The static grew louder.

"What? Dammit Breaker, two more minutes!"

"Tell Sparks to work on it at his fucking end!" The static suddenly dropped by half.

"Watch your fucking mouth! My kid sister's listening!" He sounded angry.

"I said 'ha-ha' Con." Jennifer had heard her brother swear plenty of times. He held others to higher standards.

"Oh. I got you. Don't drink too much, either, huh? I'd prefer you don't drink any."

"Why would you say that?" She felt herself blushing. She was relieved Mama hadn't thought to listen in on the other line.

Conrad just laughed. "Be careful, right? Listen, this is going fast. Love you! Have a great party! I'll try to be there for seventeen! Put Mama back on!"

"Okay! Love you! Thanks! Be careful out there!" She handed the phone back to her mother.

"Kleiner? It was good of you to call. We love you and miss you, dear. Be careful, will you?" She listened for a bit. " I...yes, all right." Mama nodded as if he could see her. "Right. I will. Are you coming for Christmas? I said...are you coming..." Mama paused, sighed, and tried again. "Will we see you for...? Oh..." She hung up, and turned to Jennifer. "He's gone. Wasn't that nice? I suppose we'll hear from him again soon."

A gentle hand shook her awake. "Jennifer. Hey." She opened her eyes to see her father standing over her. From the look of his eyes, he hadn't slept well. But he was freshly shaven and his hair was still damp from the shower.

Jennifer sat up, rubbing her eyes. In the other bed, Drew still slept, clutching her old battered bear. She was too old for him, really, but now was not the time to tell her. "Pop? What time is it?"

"Almost eleven. I let you both sleep."

"Eleven?!" She swung her legs out from under the covers. Drew roused at the yelp. "We should be back there!"

Pop held up a hand. "Don't worry, I already spoke with Mama. Everything's the same. Nothing happened since we left. You both needed the sleep."

Drew sat up,her eyes still half closed. "Pop?"

"Get showered and dressed girls. I'm going to take you to breakfast. We'll get something to bring to your mother."

Jennifer slid out of bed and padded to the bathroom. Drew took the shower as soon as she was done. Both got reads as soon as possible. They were clean, dressed and in the diner downstairs eating pancakes within the hour. Jennifer looked around at the other diners. They all seemed so normal. Where were they going, and why were they there? None of them had a brother in a coma in the hospital. They'd go to jobs, or meetings. She and Drew were the only people there under twenty-five. She wondered if any of them had a clue why she was there, or was even curious.

They finished, and Pop ordered coffee and breakfast to go. They walked up front to pay at the register, and Jennifer saw the big green sedan pull up outside. Gonzalez climbed out and stood waiting for them. Jennifer wondered how she knew where they were.

"Go on girls, I'll be out in a bit. Take Mama's breakfast."

Jennifer grabbed the small bag of clothes Pop had gathered for Mama. She herself had thought to dump out her purse and throw both her and Drew's Walkmen and a handful of cassettes in. At the last minute, she'd grabbed three of the videotapes stowed in her luggage.

The trip to the hotel had been in the dark. Now it was nearly mid day, and Jennifer looked out at the town as they made the trip back to the hospital. It was bigger than Musick's Ferry by far. But it still had a small-town feel. Something about being in a new place. Some special feeling of being alien. Not negative, just different. She'd felt it when she moved on to campus in Los Angeles. Vincent had told her he felt it every time they moved to a new post, back when they were kids. The need to explore. She wished she were here under better circumstances. Maybe when Conrad was awake and everything a little more certain, she could take a day to wander around.

She caught herself being optimistic, and the shock of reality hurt. Maybe he wouldn't wake. It took her a minute to realize that was perfectly fine. There was nothing wrong with hoping for the best. She took a deep breath to clear the pain in her chest.

Into the parking lot. Through the lobby. Up the elevator doors. Jennifer was surprised 'Dozer wasn't there to greet them when the doors slid open. She realized she shouldn't be, but she was. Instead, a short skinny Asian man greeted them.

"Word, Slingshot?"

"Meatlover's Deluxe."

The short soldier giggled and winked at Jennifer.

Gonzalez sighed, rolling her eyes. "Stow it, Sprite." She pushed past him. They followed. Sprite's grin didn't fade until Pop stepped out. Then it slid right off his face.

He snapped to and saluted. Pop ignored him.

"Those are some weird security words." Jennifer glanced at Gonzalez, who was still stewing.

"Been that way since before I was posted here. It's what happens when the guy running the security detail's short on ideas and given access to as much take-out as he can handle." She grinned. "Still, we find Cobra's had a really hard time cracking them."

"I imagine it never occurs to them that it could be that simple."

"Or that stupid." Gonzalez laughed.

"Is he called Sprite because he's so little?" Jennifer was still struck that the soldier hadn't been much taller than her.

"No, he just really likes lemon-lime soda. Stows cans and bottles of it everywhere." Gonzalez stopped at the swinging doors.

Jennifer grinned. "Aren't you off now? You were here last night, and I guess the shift's changed."

"You guys are my responsibility. It's my duty to get you where you need to go and keep you all safe while you're here. I get naps and stuff when I can. Last night I found an empty room when you were up here." Gonzalez held a door open, letting Pop and Drew through.

Jennifer hesitated. "Guess you lost the straw-pull huh? Thanks."

"Nope. I won." Gonzalez's smile was sincere. "And there were a lot of straws. You're very welcome. I'll be back down in the Lobby if you need me."

Jennifer walked past the Nurse's station, waving to the woman on duty. It wasn't Matthews, as she hoped it was. She glanced over the board, praying to see some sort of change she could recognize. There wasn't, and the red notation "IC" had not been erased.

Still, his name was still there. Mama would have called if something horrible had happened in the night, she knew. But just seeing the name there delivered a small gift of comfort. She rushed to her brother's room to see for herself.

He lay as he had the day before. The blankets, sheets, even his pillow-everything changed since Drew soaked him last night. But it all seemed exactly the same. Mama had pulled a chair up to one of the tables and was opening the foam box they'd brought from the diner. Drew and Pop stood on each side of the bed. Jennifer watched as her sister took up Conrad's hand, putting her tiny palm against his. Her little fingers barely made it to his knuckle. She leaned over so she could hold it to her face, then kissed it.

Jennifer walked over to stand beside her. "Hey, Con. We're back. How're you doing?" It was a perfectly reasonable question that he was completely incapable of answering.

Mama answered for him. "He's doing wonderfully. A few nurses came through last night, and they all remarked at how strong he is, how well he's looking. Isn't that right?" She ended with a look to Conrad.

"Did you manage to get some sleep?" Pop came up behind and leaned over to kiss her cheek. Mama reached back to rub his head as he slid his arms around her.

"Oh yes, thank you. I caught a few naps." She sipped her coffee. "This is a wonderful breakfast!"

Jennifer noticed that she'd only taken a small forkful of eggs. She imagined her mother had gotten a similar amount of sleep, if any. The cot set up under the window looked unslept in. Although it was just like Mama to remake any bed she'd used as crisply as possible, she'd more than likely not moved far from Conrad's bedside. Jennifer had been in the hospital once in her life; her appendix had blown at a softball game. Mama spent the entire first night by her side, holding her hand, brushing her hair back from her brow and soothing her with words, even a few songs. Jennifer knew; last night, their mother had been right by Con's side, doing the same for him.

Pop nuzzled up close to Mama's ear. "Eat more, darling. You didn't eat any dinner."

She leaned into his embrace. "I will, Jack. Don't worry. I'm fine." She looked back so they could kiss. Jennifer caught Drew making a face.

She used to feel the same way. Now, her mind was changing. She had more than one friend whose parents had split up, and her parents were still affectionate. Not all the time, Pop wasn't exactly Captain Romance-but they both had their moments.

She remembered pretending to gag on one of their anniversaries when Pop had burst into the den from the kitchen with flowers, chocolates, diamond earrings-the whole shebang. She'd mimed a retch as they'd kissed each other.

"Oh, blech."

Vincent rolled his eyes. "Please, spare us!"

Conrad, home on leave from Bragg, watched from where he held Drew in his easy chair, his sock-clad feet aimed at the fire. He was smirking. Jennifer sidled up to him. "Gross, right?"

"Nah. It's okay." He looked down at the baby. "It's why you guys and this one showed up. Right?" He peeked down at the swaddled bundle. "Right Rabbit?" He squished her nose with one finger. She laughed, grabbed it and pulled it into her mouth. "Gum away, short stuff."

Pop and Mama went into the kitchen to look for a vase. Jennifer was pretty sure they'd kiss again once there, and elected to not follow, even though she was hoping to be offered a chocolate. "It doesn't bother you at all?" She couldn't help but glance at the portrait of his father. Pop had no problem with it being there, and she didn't quite understand. When she was smaller, it was just a part of the décor and a source of some stories about a nice man whose death no one would give her the exact details of. Lately, she'd been looking at the picture more, and thinking about everything she knew and didn't. Aside from the loud battles of a few years ago, a period everyone wanted to forget, Pop and Con seemed to get along reasonably well. But she'd started to wonder if Con resented the whole thing. Pop wasn't his father. Looking back, she saw him watching her. His blue eyes flicked to the portrait, then back.

"Mom and Jack? No. They're happy." He reached out and pulled her closer, then pulled her down to whisper in her ear, grinning as if he was going to confide some deep secret. "Besides, it sure beats the alternative." He let go so she could straighten up. His brows were raised. It all seemed light-hearted. Yet it wasn't. The face was smiling, but something else shone from deep within in his eyes. Something sadder. He held her gaze for a second or two, then grinned back down at their baby sister. "Yeah?" He lifted her up to his face so they could touch noses. "Beats the alternative!"

"Duke!" Drew flopped in a chair and patted his arm. "Hey! I forgot to tell you! We met Bazooka. And Doc, but I guess you heard that. Slingshot and some guy named 'Dozer. I think that was Alpine and Gung-Ho looking in after the whole water thing." She looked guilty. "Sorry about that. Then there was a guy this morning named Sprite. He was looking at Jennifer's butt in the hall."

"Wait, what?" Jennifer dropped into her own chair. Someone had brought up the morning paper. She pulled out the comics and handed the rest to Pop, who was frowning. "Say that again?"

"He was. When we were walking down the hall. He looked at your butt the whole way. Then he held his thumb up to the other guards." Drew demonstrated the gesture for them and turned back to Duke. "Pop let me order pancakes, bacon, eggs and sausage and dump on all the syrup I wanted. How often does that happen?"

Pop was halfway to the door paper under one arm, but stopped when Mama turned from her breakfast and raised a hand.

"Jack, leave it. Now's not the time."

Grumbling, Pop went back to sit next to her. He shook out the paper and hid behind the front page.

"Hey, Jennifer, pass the comics." Drew reached out.

"When I'm done."

"You take too long, let me read them first!" She slid down and walked around the foot of the bed. "I'll be faster."

Jennifer sighed. "I got to them first. Just be patient for once."

"I want to read them to Duke. He likes it when I read him Spider Man." Drew grabbed a corner of the paper and pulled it down so Jennifer could see bespectacled eyes. "You'll just have to wait, Drew." Jennifer yanked the paper back.

"But..." Drew looked ready to do battle.

"Stop." Pop didn't even bother lowering the front page to glare. His voice was enough. "This stops, now."

Drew flounced out of the room, grumbling something about needing to help with the comics.

It was true, to a certain extent. When she was younger and he was home on leave, Conrad helped Drew practice reading with the daily funnies. At first, he'd read them all to her, pointing to the word bubbles in each frame. Eventually, when her skills were better, they'd take turns down both pages. Drew always read Spider Man to him. Mama had remarked that he'd done it with Vincent, too, when they were both boys. Never with Jennifer. By the time she was learning to read, he'd dropped out of college and enlisted. She couldn't remember if he had been deployed to Vietnam or not. The most she remembered of him from that time was a visit to San Francisco, when he'd wowed them all by taking them to Chinatown and ordering the whole dinner in Chinese. That, and the letters he sent home that made Mama cry.

"Should I go after her?" Mama closed the box, finished with breakfast.

"No, she'll be fine. There are soldiers all over this hospital. She can't get in much trouble. I imagine if she gets too far, one of them will either stop her or let us know. Maybe she just needs some time to work things over a little more." Pop stood and walked to switch on the TV. "Game's on, Champ. Let's have a listen." He sat back down with the remote and flipped to a baseball game.

She caught Mama's smile. Jennifer hadn't ever really thought about the relationship between her father and oldest brother. When together, they got along well. Aside from cousin Patricia, the odd bully and Cobra, Duke was generally an amiable man, as was Pop. They seemed to enjoy each other's company. She'd not really thought of either of them having any moment that could be defined as 'touching' or emotional-not even when Conrad came home from southeast Asia. But now Pop was chatting to her comatose brother about the game as if it were any normal afternoon, as if they were in front of the big-screen in the basement instead of in a hospital room filled with machines. And he wasn't just doing it for Mama's sake.

"Cards are playing the Astros. We've got a stake in this one, Champ. Gonna go all the way this year." Pop folded the paper and put it on the table next to the leftovers of Mama's lunch.

Having finished the comics, Jennifer got up and helped herself to the local section and the entertainment section. She wanted to learn a bit about Keystone City. She also assumed that the television might be providing a good amount of distraction, and she might as well figure out what was on. She glanced through, listening to the game and Pop's chatter with half an ear. If she could just ignore the whooshing and beeping, she'd be able to pretend it was just another day.

She was halfway through an article about the ongoing investigation into an airline collision when a nurse came in with a clipboard and a bag of something. She smiled and nodded, then hung the bag on the IV stand and attached it to the drip. She removed the empty bag, and then looked over the monitors, making notes on the clip board.

"What's that for?" Jennifer couldn't decipher the writing on the bag. She was surprised to see that particular line didn't run into his arm, but his chest.

"Parenteral Nutrition." The nurse looked up from her notes with a smile. "It's lunch."

"Doesn't that go down his nose?"

The nurse looked surprised. "Yes. Quite often, actually. We may go to that in a week or so. But sergeant Hauser isn't a fan of tubes, and he's already got the ventilator and the catheter. Doctor Greer prefers to have fewer to have to remove."

It didn't look very filling. Conrad liked his chow. Jennifer had seen her brother down three of Pop's thick-pattied cheeseburgers in a sitting more than once "What's in it?"

"Basic nutrients, hydration, and electrolytes. It will keep him going." The nurse made a few final notes. "Nurse Matthews is coming back on in an hour. We're going to have to come in to flush out a few of his lines, the ventilator, too."

"Does any of this hurt?" Last night, Jennifer had sat awake wondering if he was in any pain. The wound was serious, and none of the tubes looked comfortable. But if he was hurting, how would they know? She took hold of his hand, stroking over the golden hairs up his arm, wondering if the touch would soothe some of the hurt away.

"It's not fun, no. See that?" The nurse pointed to a bottle. "That's a pretty strong painkiller. It's set to deliver a dose every half hour." She smiled sincerely. "We want him to feel as little discomfort as possible."

"Thanks. That's kind of a relief to know."

"If you do have any more questions, feel free to come out and ask." She picked up the empty IV bag s she left.

"A physical therapist came this morning to move his muscles." Mama pulled her chair back over to the bedside and reached down to pat Conrad's leg.

"Really?" Jennifer folded the paper and scooted next to her.

"Mmm-hmm." Mama nodded and reached to take his hand. "They flexed and stretched him from his fingers to his toes. It's good to keep him moving." As if to demonstrate, Mama went through each of his fingers, bending and straightening them at each joint. A few pops announced his joints cracking. She ended by flexing all the fingers back and releasing them, then gently bending his wrist. Jennifer wondered if she was supposed to have taken up his other hand, but she was nervous about possibly disturbing the monitor clipped to a finger, or, worse, pulling out the IV. She watched as her mother wove her small slim fingers through Conrad's long, strong ones. His hand dwarfed hers. "Your brother never could sit still for long."

He couldn't. Even if sitting at the kitchen table, he'd drum his fingers, jiggle his leg- something. He preferred having a conversation while walking-in fact, some of her best conversations with him had been on hikes or trail rides. Conrad could, say, watch a football game with Pop and Vince, but he'd find excuses to get up frequently. Beer. Snacks. A stretch. More than once he'd ended up grabbing a weight or barbell and knocked out some workout. He was most able to sit if he had a book in his hands, but even that wasn't for long, he could stretch it out if perhaps Drew or cousin Emma or Kai had fallen asleep on him. Con was only ever still if he was asleep himself. Recently, she had discovered that even sleep wasn't enough to hold him down.

The yell stopped her in her tracks in the dark living room. She'd never heard anything like it, and Jennifer's neck prickled and her fingertips tingled with cold. Rage, pain, terror...lonliness-all of it wrapped into a loud, keening howl coming from the basement.

She looked at the clock. It was two. Way past her curfew. Neither Pop nor Mamma had waited up. She knew she was in trouble before she left the party, and she hadn't exactly rushed home. She was going to definitely get lectured tomorrow. Better get to bed.

But she paused on the bottom step, looking across the darkened room to the swinging kitchen door. Suddenly, a line of light popped up at it's base. Jennifer quietly picked her way around the living room furniture and gently pushed the door a few feet open. Conrad stood by the back door, facing away from her, looking through the small window and out across the sloping back lawn. He was barefoot, clad in a pair of dark grey sweat pants and nothing else. Under the bright kitchen light, she could make out a few tattoos and the map of scars over the muscles of his back. Some were familiar, she'd come to know them when they went swimming in the river or at the Y. But two she didn't recognize, one of which still looked pink, puffy and new. She could even make out where the stitches had been.

Conrad sighed, then ran a hand through his hair, duking his head when his fingers reached his neck. He turned slowly, hand following a path back and then down over his face. She could see more scars, more tattoos. He had more damaged skin than ink. His dog tags dangled from his neck. He grumbled quietly to himself. Not words, just a low growl of discontent. Worried about what he would think if he caught her spying, she backed out carefully, then faked a sneeze and pushed the door boldly open. He hadn't time to move, but he knew she was coming.

"Oh, hey Con. Are you still up?"

He glanced down at his bare chest, brows raised. "I guess. You just get in?" His blue eyes flicked to the clock. "Damn, girly-girl, you're going to catch it, aren't you?" His muscular arms crossed over his chest. "No crime worse than coming home after Mama and Jack give up and go to bed. You OK?"

"Fine." Jennifer went to the refrigerator and pulled the door open. "Nothing I can do about that now. You don't seem mad." She grabbed the milk carton.

"Mmmmmm." His voice was indecisive. "Climbed up the porch and into my window a few times myself."

She shut the fridge. "Really? You?"

He grinned. "Yeah. Vince never told you? I had to climb over his bed to do it. He was pretty small at the time, but he remembers." Conrad opened a cabinet and fetched down a glass. He held it out to her. "Don't live by my example."

"Thanks." She took the glass, then held up the carton. "I'm going to heat this up. Want some?"

He cocked his head, then shrugged and retrieved a second glass. "Don't mind if I do, thanks."

Jennifer poured two glasses and took them to the microwave. When she was little, and he babysat, Conrad had followed Mama's example and heated milk for everyone on the stove. The microwave was faster, but both Mama and Con swore it wasn't as good. Still, he let her set the time without a word of complaint. "What happened when you got caught?"

"You're going to find out tomorrow, I wager." He pulled out his chair at the kitchen table and lowered his big frame. "At least one of them's probably still up now."

"Seething?"

"Worrying." Conrad raised a brow. "If they heard you come in, they're probably pretty relieved. But no one's going to come down 'till tomorrow, and by then, they'll have let the anger build." He jiggled his leg up and down. "Yeah. You'll hear it." He pointed at her with one finger, then mimed the kick back of his pistol. "Up before the firing squad."

"Very funny, Con." The microwave pinged, and she used the kitchen towel to pull down a glass at a time, topping each one off with a dollop of cold milk. "Sugar?"

"Spoonful, thanks."

Milk warm and sweetened, she brought the glasses to the table and sat next to him. "Firing squad? Really?"

"It'll feel like that. Grounded, though." He took a careful sip, then a longer one. "They'll do a twofer."

"Wait, what?"

"You and Vince."

"Vincent wasn't allowed out tonight. You heard Pop. He got a 'D' on his civics quiz." Neither Mama nor Pop could abide by sloppy grades.

Conrad smiled over the rim of his glass as he took a third sip. "Vince snuck out about two hours after you left. He's not back yet."

"Pop's going to have a conniption." She thought. "If he finds out."

"Hmmmm. There's no 'if'." He cracked his neck, then his back.

"You're not going to rat him out, Con?"

"Nah. Not me. Like I said, I used to have to climb over his bed getting in. Kid never let out a peep." He set his glass down. "I'll return the favor. But I still got caught a good number of times."

"Pop?"

Conrad shook his head. "Jack's just the executioner. Mama can see right through to your lying little soul."

She laughed, nearly choking on her milk. Some came out her nose. He pulled a paper napkin off the stack in the middle of the table and handed it to her. "You sleep OK, Con?" It slipped out. She'd wanted to ask, but knew better of it.

"Hmmm."

"That a yes or a no?" She dropped her hand on his arm, tracing a finger through the golden hair and down to his wrist.

"Hmmm." He looked at her, his eyes for a moment allowing her to see deeper into him than ever. There was something lost in there. Alone in the dark. Suddenly, he smiled. The window shut. "Now why would you ask me that?"

Jennifer's history teacher had recently had a vet come in to talk. He'd been burned over half of his body. He'd told the class just a few of the things he'd seen in action. Neither Conrad nor Pop ever talked about anything to do with the horrors of their service. As Jennifer walked up the drive that day, it had suddenly occurred to her that not only had Conrad seen all that, but he was still serving. What kinds of nightmarish experiences was he still enduring? She hid behind her glass so he couldn't read her. "I dunno. You're dressed for bed. Just wondering." She kept her hand on his arm.

"Not something you need to worry about, Jenn."

"You mean you sleep OK?"

"I mean I don't want you to worry about it." His glass was empty. He rose, letting her hand slip from his arm, and put it in the sink. Then he came back to rest a hand on her shoulder and kiss her head. "Go to bed now, yeah? It's late. I'll take care of the glasses."

"Okay, Con." She drained her glass, and he took it from her. "Night."

"Night, Jenn. Oh, by the way..."

She turned at the door. "Yeah?" He at the sink, rinsing both glasses, his back to her.

"That was the fakest sneeze I ever heard."

Conrad had no choice, now. Mama was holding up his hand and massaging the space between his thumb and his fingers. Jennifer put her palm flush against his. He could curl his fingers right over the tips of hers. He often did. She slid her hand up so their fingertips matched, but now her palm was in line with the base of his thumb. For the first time, she noticed his Medal of Honor Society ring was gone. He never bragged, he rarely talked about it at all, really, but Conrad went to whatever meetings he could and enjoyed playing a role in the Society. He'd be mad about losing the ring.

She found the duffle, ripped open the zipper, pulled out the bandolier without looking too hard at the stains, and rooted around inside. There was a set of bright mustard-yellow pajamas and a pair of sweats. His shaving kit lived in the familiar brown faux-leather bag, and his toothbrush was attached to a tube of toothpaste with what looked like a black hair elastic. A pair of slippers, beyond broken-in, sat at the bottom next to a large ziplock bag, inside which she found on close inspection contained his watch-that crazy thing on the thick leather cuff-a few plastic ID cards, a small set of keys and some loose change. She sighed, relieved, when she saw the ring inside. She shoved the bag back in and puled out a ratty paperback novel. It was the same mystery Mama had been reading a few months ago, one of a series by an author both she and Conrad admired. Mama called the detective a 'strong female lead', while Con had, when Mama wasn't around, referred to her as a 'badass hot chick detective'.

The book looked like it had been through Hell and back. The pages were dog eared back to front, the cover ripped, creased and dirty. Jennifer riffled the pages and discovered to her surprise that there were notes written all around the printed text-crammed into any space. She opened the book fully to a page right in the middle. The notes were in two different colors, blue and red. Two different hands had annotated this story; Jennifer recognized her brother's handwriting, but the red notes were alien.

She glanced over the notes. A passage was underlined, her brother's comment connected by a line:

' She has fired a damn gun. Few get this right. Of course she's going to lose her hearing in a trash can.'

There was a red note underneath.

'Yeah. She's spent time on the range, or spoken in depth with someone who has.'

Then the blue again.

'Haven't you been to Santa Barbara? That's what this is supposed to be, right? Snta Teresa = Snta Barbara?'

More red.

'Been once. For a weekend. I couldn't tell you.'

Jennifer flipped to another page. The notes were making some sort of comment on the fact that it was too easy to get into public records. After a few pages, it became obvious that the blue notes were all written at one time, and the red had all come after. Conrad had read the novel, and handed it off to someone else, notes inside. Jennifer riffled at random to another page.

It wasn't the steamiest of love scenes, but the detective was apparently enjoying overnight company.

Again, the blue notes came first. This one took all the blank space on the page.

' Give you any ideas, Fox? Lets get a weekend pass, maybe two nights. Take a short road trip. Bet we could wrangle it out of The Boss. In fact, next leave we've got up, let's go away for a week or two, just you and me...wanna?'

Red pen: 'Sounds wonderful. Tell me more...wait...family?'

Back to blue, which had underlined a specific detail of lovemaking. Conrad had drawn a winking face in the margin next to it. Underneath, the red pen had drawn a line of little hearts.

Blushing, Jennifer flipped to the back of the book. A folded slip of paper fell out. She tucked it behind the cover to read the final notations.

Blue: 'All's well that ends...almost well. KM is my favorite detective, I shit you not. Reminds me of this hot chick I know. Your turn, Little Fox. Hey, I love you- C.' He'd drawn a heart with an arrow through it. Jennifer glanced to her brother. "You big ol' softy, you."

Red: 'You have good taste, My Love. I mean about detectives- I mean...I found the wildflowers outside the door this morning. Did you leave them after your run?'

There was a big lipstick kiss on the final page. Jennifer smiled. "Awwww."

"What?" Mama looked confused.

"Oh, never mind." Jennifer opened the folded paper.

'Duke,

If you wake up before I get back, know that I love you more than I can ever say. You scared the Hell out of me. Stop doing that, you jerk. I don't know what it's like to be without you anymore. I don't want to know.

Why do we both keep doing this?

You're wrong. I don't give one fuck for five years' difference, stop worrying about it. Forget about Mike-he's my age, but he isn't YOU. The past is best off there, in the past. Let's just keep moving on together, okay? You make me feel like no one ever has.

About Falcon-I know people have judged-you're right, there's some bad feeling there. But a lot of people value your opinion-they'll listen to you. He doesn't hate you... I just saw him cry over you. He's going to shape up, you're right. I believe you. He's more like you than I thought at first. It's going to be all right.

Just tell me when I get back that it's all going to be all right.

Just wait for me, My Love, please wait. I'll be there soon!

Love,

Scarlett.'

Jennifer folded the note and put it back between the pages of the novel. She almost set it on the table next to his bed, but thought better of it and shoved it deep in the duffle. It was private. She felt bad for snooping, but at the same time, seeing another side of him was a gift. He was kind. He was warm, even-at least with family and friends. But it hadn't occurred to him he could be sweet and romantic. The last time she could remember seeing him being even close, he'd been crushed, rejected. But she was small then. She couldn't remember him talking about a woman in particular since, not until they'd found out about Scarlett, since he'd allowed even a hint of the fact that they were involved. Even then, maybe in deference to Pop, he tended to be tight-lipped.

But here was the evidence. Conrad had managed to allow someone in, and they apparently had something good going. He had someone, just for him. And hopefully, they'd get to meet her in the flesh soon. Jennifer wondered if Drew would be jealous.

"Hey! Where's Drew?"

Mama looked at the clock on the bed table. "She's been gone a bit. I should go look for her."

"You stay here." Pop stretched as he got to his feet. "I'll go."

Mama stood as well. "You'll go right to have a word with that Sprite boy. I'm coming with you."

"Ah. Well, you're right, yes. You come and protect him, then." Pop held out a hand. "But I imagine what I could do will pale in comparison with what Big Brother has planned, right Champ?" He glanced at Con, then took Mama's hand. "Back in a bit, Princess."

"We'll bring a few snacks. I want to look over the cafeteria." Mama trailed behind Pop. "Jennifer...I want you to use this time you have alone with him. Please. Talk to him. Tell him you love him. Tell him...tell him what you feel. Just in case, we should all take turns."

"Mama. No, you're right. It's a good idea." Jennifer waved. She leaned close to look at Con's face. She felt crazy, but she could have sworn she saw his eyebrow lift when Pop had spoken. "Con?"

She waited a full minute, but nothing happened. She told herself she'd been imagining it and sat back in the chair. The game was still on. Cheers roared from the television. She picked up the remote and turned it down.

"You big softy, Con." She grinned, slapping him lightly on the stomach. "Don't be mad, I read some of the notes in your book. She left you a different one, too. On paper. Want me to read it?"

Jennifer hauled the duffle back on her lap, unzipped it, and reached in to feel around till she could get the note out of the book. A sick feeling in her stomach accompanied the thought that maybe he'd die before Scarlett came back, and he'd never have known what she'd written. She read it to him. Nervously at first, knowing he wouldn't be completely happy with the breach of privacy, but by the end she felt better about it. Now he knew. That is, if he heard.

"She loves you Con. I think that's really..." She couldn't find words that didn't sound trite. "You deserve it." That was pretty good. "I really hope she makes you happy. I want to meet her. I'm pretty sure I'll like her, if you do."

The conversation felt too one-sided. Sometimes, when she was angry or upset and he was home and needed someone not Mama or Pop, she'd gone to him. He always patiently sat and listened while she let it out. He waited till she was done to respond. Jennifer pretended it was one of those times. It helped.

"I love you, too, Con. You know that. You've always been around...I mean, not at home, lately, not as much as I ever wanted. But I just like knowing you're around. That if I really needed you, you'd come." She gulped. "Bet you didn't know I found out that you're helping pay for school. I did. They slipped up and sent a statement to me." She'd always wondered how her parents could afford USC. She'd researched and started applying for loans a day after the acceptance letter. Then Mama had happily told her not to worry; it was covered. But Jennifer knew that was a stretch. She'd found the answer in a mis-mailed letter. His name was on it. 'Payee: Conrad Hauser.' She'd sealed it up and sent it back with a note of the right address...called the office and told them herself, just to be sure. Jennifer had never told anyone she'd found out.

"Thanks so much for that. I don't know if I'll ever be able to pay you back. But I swear, I'm going to try. You need that money for your kids, when you have them." An odd thought, Conrad having kids. She'd grown up expecting it to happen, somehow. She'd end up an aunt one way or another. It was a word she only applied to old people, though. "I'll pay you back, Con. Every penny, even it if takes me years."

She could imagine him telling her not to. Jennifer knew her brother would be hard to convince to accept the repayment. But she vowed to do it.

"Con. Con, I hope you can hear me. This is scary, Con. It's scary, and weird, because sometimes, sitting here, I've forgotten it's all wrong. Then I see you lying there and remember. The stupid thing is, the person I would most talk to about this is you. Isn't that stupid? Is that irony? It is, right? I want to talk to you about you being in a coma, but I can't, because you're in a coma." She fought down the urge to sob, held in the tears pushing against the dam of her strength. "This isn't fair." She stopped to get control of herself, lightly brushing a hand over where his chest was bandaged. "Drew says you have a new tattoo. I want to see it." She slid her fingers over the dressing again. "Did it hurt?" Her voice was the barest whisper. "Did it hurt, when it happened?" It probably did. Jennifer was struck with the terrifying idea that it still hurt. That he was lying there in agony, and couldn't tell anyone. But then she remembered the painkiller.

"I hope you aren't having any nightmares, Con. I hope it doesn't hurt. If I could make it not hurt, I'd do it...whatever it takes." She glanced around the room. She expected flowers. Balloons. The things normal people got when they were in the hospital. But there was nothing. Mama probably hadn't much time to tell anyone beyond family. Con's cousins and uncles and aunts would probably know. Willie and Rolfe and Anna, and maybe Jeff and Sandy-friend's he'd known since he was little. Jimmy, too. Jimmy and Jeff had a way of finding things out even Mama didn't know. Grammy and Grampy. Poppy would know, but Omi was too sick-no one would scare her with that kind of news. If they had sent something, it wasn't in the room. Maybe it was hard figuring out what to send someone who didn't know it was there. Maybe they were waiting for Mama to tell them Con had woken up.

"Conrad, you did it for Vince, didn't you? Pop said you did it for him." She wondered what their brother was going through. Vincent was never as tough as Con. Sure, he could handle himself, when he needed to, but Con was the rougher one of the two, and Vince seemed to worry more. Not that Con didn't worry. When it came to fighting, Vincent saw it as a very last resort and would rather avoid a fight, while Conrad would happily wade right in to the middle. Jennifer remembered overhearing Mama describe the two boys to her book group over glasses of white wine.

"Vincent is my artist. Conrad is my brawler."

"Vince. What the Hell is that?" Conrad sluiced himself off in the kitchen sink. He'd been working with Willie in the pasture all day.

"Nothing."

"Fuck that. Who gave you that black eye?"

Vincent shrugged and tried to bury himself in homework. "No one. I got beaned with a foul tip at practice."

"Bullshit. You wear a mask. No ball is going to do that." Conrad dried himself off and strode purposefully over to the table, lifting Vince's chin so he could examine the patchwork of purple and blue around his swelling eye. "Who did that?"

Vincent jerked away. "No one. Like I said, it was a foul tip."

"Cut the crap." Conrad strode to the freezer, yanked the door open, pulled out a bag of peas, stalked back, and pressed it to Vince's eye. "Tell me." Vincent held the peas to his face, but said nothing, focusing on his homework. Conrad turned to Jennifer. "Tell me."

"I don't know." Jennifer shrugged. She did. She knew exactly who had done it. She'd been there. But she followed Vince's lead. She'd always follow his lead. They hated and loved each other the way only close siblings could.

"Tell me!" Conrad slammed both hands down on the table, making all three of them jump. Drew started to cry.

"Max!" Jennifer ignored Vincent's kick. "Max Koch! Vince made Delph look stupid at lunch, and after school, Max came and belted him."

Conrad turned on Vince. "Why?"

"He was bugging the slow kids." Vincent stared down at his books. "He was calling them 'retards'. Delph does. All the time. Especially this one girl. So I hit him with an orange." Vincent could hit anyone with a ball. His aim was perfect. The orange had been peeled and juicy. "Everyone laughed. Max found out."

Max was older. Thirty two-the oldest of the huge pack of Koch kids, and the surliest of the bunch. Jennifer had watched in horror as he came out of nowhere at the Burger Shack and clobbered her brother. No one dared get in his way. They waited until he was gone, and scraped Vince off the concrete.

Conrad tapped the table with his fist. His eyes blazed, nostrils flared. Every so often, he glanced at Vince's eye. Jennifer watched his bottom jaw work this way and that. She wished Mama was there. Mama could usually calm him down. He muttered under his breath. "Motherfucker..." He turned crisply and disappeared out the back door. A minute later, Jennifer heard the charger starting up.

Conrad made it home a twenty minutes into dinner. Mama fussed about him being so late. He brushed it off as he sat down to his pot roast, but his eyes were gleaming electric blue. He glanced at Vince and the corner of his mouth pulled back in a grin. The next day, the story was all over campus; Max was in the hospital with a truckload of bruises and a broken nose and jaw. Con had come on him at Mikey's and dragged him outside to work him over. Surprisingly, he refused to press charges. Delph stayed away from either of them from then on.

It wasn't the first, nor the last time he took someone to task for tormenting Vince.

Jennifer's ears perked. Her eyes snapped back to Con. She thought she'd heard him shifting in his bed. But he was still. His arms were at his sides, his feet, as far as she could tell, where they had been a second ago. Still, she took his hand. "Con?" She flexed his fingers the way Mama had. "Con, come on. Come back to us. You really can't leave now, you've got too much going for you." Jennifer wondered if he ever thought about his father. Maybe he was hoping to go and be with him again. Were there people calling him from somewhere souls went after death? Maybe Con's father and cousin Wolf were right now luring him over to them. Jennifer had a hazy memory of Conrad's closest cousin. Wolfgang was almost as tall as Con, almost as fit. They were close friends. She remembered giggling as they tossed her back and forth in the river, bespectacled Jeff sitting on the bank with the radio. She must have been tiny for them to toss and catch her so easily. Wolf was close to Con, almost like Con, but not so good as to win the football scholarship that saved her brother from the draft. Wolfe ended up in Vietnam while Con was in his freshman year at Yale. Then Con dropped out and enlisted, guilt and a loyalty to his cousin and Pop outshining his own ambitions. But Con came back on a plane. Wolf came back in a box. Jennifer was pretty sure neither came back in one piece.

Was Con once again letting his guilt pull him to Wolf?

"Con, come on. We need you here." No one was around. She pulled her chair close enough that she could lean down against him. Settle against his chest the way she had when she was smaller. She wrapped his arm around her, holding his fingers close to her. She could hear the air going in and out of his lungs. Even the thumping of his heart just off to one side. The hospital blanket felt rough against her cheek. "I need you here. I love you, Big Brother. Come back."

"Excuse me."

Jennifer jumped and sat up. Nurse Matthews stood in the door. Another nurse loomed behind her holding a tray of equipment-syringes, a box of gloves and some little packets. Jennifer's face grew hot as she carefully arranged Conrad's arm back alongside him. "Sorry."

"Don't apologize. I didn't want to disturb you." Matthews' smile was gentle. "But we need to flush a few lines."

"Oh. Right. The other nurse said something about that." Jennifer rubbed at her own cheek. "I guess I shouldn't be-"

"Yes you should. He needs a good hug and cuddle as much as anyone else. More, really." Matthews came over to stand opposite Jennifer by the IV. She motioned the other nurse over. They pulled up the bed tray and set the equipment down, allowing Jennifer to look over the assorted things more closely. There were several large syringes full of clear liquid, capped with a variety of colored plastic caps. A handful of cleansing swabs in secure envelopes, and a cardboard box of purple latex gloves. Matthews put on a pair, snapping a finger at the end, then ripped open a packet to remove a folded paper cloth. The second nurse took up one of Con's IV lines, and detached it from the drip. Matthew's cleaned the port of the tube attached to con's arm, then took up a syringe. Jennifer saw there was no needle, only a cap. Matthews unscrewed it, pushing out a little fluid. She did the same thing with a second syringe. She then attached the first syringe to the port, opened the clamp, and then emptied it in a series of pushes and pauses.

"What's that?" Jennifer leaned forward for a better view.

"Saline. This just keeps everything clean and safe." When the first one was emptied, Matthews repeated the whole procedure with the second one, from swab to injection. "This is heparin. It just keeps the blood from forming a clot we don't want."

"I see." Jennifer looked back over the tray. "You're flushing it all?"

"Yep. Every so often we just have to make sure the lines stay clear. Same for the ventilator. Human bodies can create a good amount of globs and crust. It's natural." She nodded at the other nurse, who also donned a pair of gloves. "Jennifer, you might just excuse us for the next few minutes. Close as you are, a man needs privacy in certain ways." The second nurse moved to the foot of the bed.

Jennifer blushed. "Oh. Yeah." She stood.

Matthews nodded. "It'll just be a few more minutes, thanks." She pulled the bed tray down to where they could flip back the sheets to get at the catheter.

"Sure." Jennifer went into the hall. The rest of the ward was going about it's normal day. She walked slowly around the loop, passing empty rooms until she found a door with two hand written names by the door. Katzenbogen. Pine. Jennifer knocked softly on the door frame.

"Yeah?"

She took a step in. There was only one man in the room. He was sitting up in bed in a robe. The book he had been reading lay open next to him. It was not Bazooka, as she had hoped. "Oh! Sorry to bother you!" She started to back out.

"Hey! Come back!" He sounded a little urgent. Jennifer came went back in. "It's not a bother. It's a boring book, anyhow." His teeth were amazingly white under his thin black mustache. "You're Jennifer."

"Yes! How did you know?"

"Bazooka filled me in. He'd be here, but he took off with Little Giant while back." he pointed to the chair. "Come on in. I've been staring at his ugly face so long, it's nice to have a pretty face to look at."

Jennifer accepted the invitation. "Little Giant?"

"Braid? Glasses? About yea high?" He held his hand out flat maybe four feet from the ground.

"Drew!" Jennifer laughed. "She's my sister."

"Yeah." He held out a hand. "Alpine, at your service."

She took the hand and shook it. "Mr. Pine." She thought. "Or did you mean 'Alpine' was your code name?"

He waved it off. "Either. My first name's Albert. Second name's Pine. I like to climb things. Not much of a stretch, huh?"

"No. I guess it was sort of impossible for you to avoid." It was the most logical nick name she'd ever heard.

"You know, I've always wondered, but never really asked, how your brother got his handle."

She shrugged. "Everyone keeps mispronouncing our last name. It's sort of a family mascot, now."

Alpine looked confused, then chuckled. "Not that brother. The other one."

"Oh! Conrad? No one called him 'Duke' until he enlisted. He came back from Vietnam with it. Some of the SVA and village people he worked with had seen a bunch of John Wayne movies, and saw how he got into a bunch of fistfights. Something like that. My mother hates it, actually. She calls him Kleiner. I think it means 'my little boy' or something."

"Does she?" Jennifer could see him filing that fact away for later use.

"Yeah. My cousin Patricia calls him 'Buttercup'." She couldn't help but laugh.

Alpine chortled. "Buttercup?"

"They don't really get along all that well." It occurred to her that Con really would rather she not spread that around. "I think I should probably not have told you that."

"Don't worry." He grinned, mumbling to himself "Buttercup..."

"Where did Bazooka and Drew go?"

"The gift shop, I think. They were talking about windows and candles." He scratched his chin. "That and french fries. They might make a side trip to the cafeteria. Not a bad idea, considering the kind of food we've been getting up here.

Jennifer glanced around the room. Here, there were flowers. Quite a lot of them. Balloons, as well. A basket of fruit even sat on the table between both beds. "I guess your families have come by, too."

"Oh yeah. Mine just left. Bazook's are on the way. Gung Ho's comes in tides." He sighed. "There are quite a lot of LaFittes."

She hadn't noticed them. Jennifer hadn't even seen anyone else beyond the hospital staff, guards and her own family the whole time they'd been there. But the whole world was moving on outside of her life. For a minute, she was jealous of those other families. The sons or brothers, cousins they came to the hospital, all three of them, were awake. They could sit and laugh together. They could know that the comfort they'd come to provide was received. They could see the smiles and feel embraces returned. But Conrad could do none of that. Maybe not ever.

"Hey! Turn that frown upside down, huh?" Alpine put his hand over hers on the arm of the chair.

"Oh." She tried a weak smile for him. "Sorry. I was just thinking about-" she stopped herself, trying to encompass it all into something she could verbalize. "-everything."

"Stinks, doesn't it?" He gave her hand a squeeze. "It's all right. You can frown. I don't blame you. One brother here on his back, the other's taken off to the Himalayas."

"Is that where Vince is? Really?" All that snow this time of year. She remembered the grand snowball fight they had whenever Con was home in winter. Snow Battle Royale. Now Vince was maybe doing it for real.

"Yeah, but I won't say more. I shouldn't even say that."

"How could telling me possibly do any harm?" She wasn't about to go tell COBRA or call the papers or news channels. She didn't relish the idea of a bunch or reporters swarming the hospital. Or trying to. The Joes would keep them out.

"You wouldn't believe most of it, anyhow. Things are plenty weird." Alpine shifted under the covers, then grabbed a banana and peeled it.

It was a word Conrad had used more than once himself in regards to his years with Joe. He couldn't say too much more.

"Want a banana?" Alpine had stopped with the fruit halfway to his mouth. "We have plenty." He leaned over and grabbed a huge box of chewing gum. "And gum. Bazooka's family wanted him to be happy." Jennifer accepted a few packs. They were the type with the rainbow-striped zebra on the wrapper.

"Thanks."

"Sure. How's Duke?" He took a huge bite of banana.

"Lying flat on his back. He's been lying on his back since we got here. He hasn't moved an inch. He hasn't made a peep. Drew tossed a glass of water in his face, and he just lay there."

Jennifer caught the look of dismay and pity before Alpine managed to cover it with a warm grin. "Well, you know, Duke...he's." He looked around the room, the shrugged and sighed. "I don't know what to say. I'm sorry. But I'll tell you, Duke can be a pretty nasty bastard when he wants to be. There's a lot of fight in him. What was he like-"

"Hey."

They both looked to the door. Bazooka waved, slouching in and shuffling in his slippers to flop on his bed. He waved again. "Hey Jennifer."

"Hi, Bazooka." She wondered if she should really be calling them Mr. Pine and Mr. Katzenbogen. More properly Corporal Pine and Sergeant Katzenbogen. But then, if they expected it, surely they would have said something. "Where's Drew?"

"Back with your Mom and Dad n' Duke." He pushed himself up the bed. "We went to the gift shop to get some stuff. And we got a snack." He burped discreetly. "We ran into your folks downstairs. She went with them."

Jennifer nodded, then turned back to Alpine. "You were asking me something?"

"Oh," He waved dismissively. "Not really. I was just about to ask what Duke was like when he was a kid."

"I can't tell you." She laughed, more at herself than the question. "He was, like, fifteen, when I was born. Maybe fourteen." She assumed Alpine knew how old Duke was. Or maybe he just hand't thought about it. Perhaps he was just making conversation. "The first thing I can remember about him is looking down at the ground from his shoulders. It was a pretty long way away. That, or being on the ground looking way up into his face. He was in high school then."

In her mind, she was gazing up at him-he was often in his blue and white letterman's jacket, but maybe that was helped by the picture of him wearing it in Pop's office, or that she'd seen it recently in the attic when she was getting a trunk down to pack for college. She'd just realized that he was taller than Pop. They were in the kitchen sipping coffee. A stranger had been sitting at the table, talking to Conrad, Mama and Pop. There had been a few of the strange men over those weeks, all talking very seriously about things she'd not been able to understand. Like the rest of them, this one had papers and pamphlets He spread them across the table, passed them around, pointed at a few places repeatedly.

Vincent climbed up on his chair and looked at a few as if he knew what it was all about. He could read more than she could, so she figured he did. Jennifer herself had taken Mama's lap. Whatever it was the man had said, it had made Mama happy, and Conrad seemed more than satisfied. They all stood, Jennifer and Vincent slipping to the floor, and the man shook everyone's hand. Looking up, Jennifer realized that Conrad was taller than Pop-she hadn't thought it possible. The man shoved a battered hat on his head, scooped up most of the papers, and let Pop walk him to the door. Conrad laughed, and she looked up into his face. He grinned at her.

"Well, Jenn. That's that. Yale on someone else's dime!" He scooped her up.

"As long as you keep your grades up, Kleiner." Mama sounded relieved.

"Oh, yeah, that's not a problem. They have a good History and Sociology department. Heck, gymnastics and boxing, too!" Conrad swept Jennifer up. "Boola-boola Jenn!" She laughed with him.

Vincent stood on his chair. "Go Bulldogs! Boola-boo!"

Mama laughed as Con reached over to tousle Vincent's hair. "Well, you're safe. That's the best part."

"Safe?" Jennifer looked into her brothers blue eyes.

"From the draft, stupid." Vincent stretched to see if he could reach above Conrad's head. "They're not going to send him if he's in college. Probably."

Conrad's brow wrinkled. "A lot of guys are still volunteering-"

"But not you." Mama's voice was sharp. But then she smiled. "It's a dream come true! There's no way we could have ever afforded this. But you did it! All the schools wanting you, and now Yale! A full scholarship! Conrad! Your future is set!"

"He was there just a bit over a year. He was doing real well on the team. Someone said that NFL scouts were already coming to watch him play. But he dropped out and enlisted." Jennifer remembered Mama's anguish. She'd alternated not talking to him with not being able to let him go.

"Why?" Bazooka tilted his head.

"I've never asked." Jennifer hadn't thought to do it at the time, nor much of it since. Not until the day she'd called to tell him she'd gotten in to USC, and it had suddenly occurred to her that maybe he regretted it. Would life had been really different for everyone if Con had stayed in school and gotten a degree, maybe even drafted into the NFL?

"Jennifer?" Mama was in the hall, calling for her.

"Here, Mama! I'm in here!" She stood and went to the door. When her mother spotted her, she smiled, and came over.

"Here you are. Your father and I were beginning to wonder." She smiled at the two Joes. "Hello, boys. Don't get up. I hope you're healing well."

Both men had started to stand, but relaxed at Mama's urging. Alpine instead tipped an invisible cap. "Pretty well, thank you, Ma'am. Pleasure to meet you. I'm Corporal Pine, and this here's Sergeant Katzenbogen." Most people did get proper around Mama. Jennifer had seen it time and time again. Something about her incited respect.

"They're called Alpine and Bazooka." Jennifer came close enough to her mother to slip an arm around her. Mama returned the embrace without hesitation.

Confronted with propriety versus familiarity, Mama split the difference. "Well, Corporal Alpine, Sergeant Bazooka, it's good to see you on the mend. I ran into Sergeant LaFitte just a while ago. It's such a pleasure to meet the three of you."

"Thank's, Ma'am." Bazooka nodded. "Duke is the best top kick I ever had. Tough but fair, too."

"That he is." Alpine agreed. "A prince among men. Or a Duke, to be exact. A Duke among Joes."

"Thank you both." Mama blushed. "I do appreciate you saying that."

Jennifer had always thought of her parents as tough but fair. They both expected-demanded even, the best from all their kids. But they were always fair and loving. The times her oldest brother had shown any inclination to be strict with her were few, but memorable.

"What's that you've got on?" Conrad wiped the oil from his hands with a rag cut from an old t-shirt.

Jennifer twirled. "Laura helped me put it together for tonight. We're getting together for her birthday at Angelo's for pizza. Then maybe go hang out with the gang. Isn't it cute?"

Laura took a dramatic bow. "Thank you, thank you! It's a gift, I can't take credit."

Conrad scanned Jennifer from head to foot. "Go change."

"What?!" Jennifer laughed. "No way, this is perfect!"

"Go upstairs and change, Jenn." Conrad stuffed one end of the rag in his back pocket and opened the fridge. He emerged with a beer, then popped the cap off the bottle on the edge of the counter. Mama hated it when he did that. But Mama and Pop were out.

"C'mon, stud, she looks super cute. It's perfect." Laura laughed.

Conrad's eyes flicked to her, then back to Jennifer. "No. You're not going out like that. The pants are too tight, and the shirt is cut too low. Why is everything ripped?"

"That's the style, Con."

"You look like you've been fighting a rabid badger and your shirt is hardly there. Go change." He tipped the bottle back, leaning against the counter as he drank. "Now."

Jennifer felt her irritation rise. "No way! You're not Pop, or Mama! They're not even here. Everyone's dressing like this now, Con."

"You're damn right I'm not Mama or Jack. Get upstairs and change the shirt. It's too low cut. Everything's right there for anyone to see." Conrad set his bottle down on the counter with a little tap and crossed his arms over his chest. "You heard me."

She gathered herself up to argue, but then caught the look in his eye and hesitated. "What if I put on a jacket?"

"No." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Change the shirt."

Laura was doing her best to pretend she was anywhere else. Jennifer sighed and rolled her eyes. "Well, I guess I could change into a few garbage bags and go out like that, Con."

He pointed at her. "In another ten seconds, you'll be staying in all night. Your choice, Jenn." He crossed his arms again.

She wondered if he would start counting down. Something in his face told her not to push it. "Fine." She flounced back upstairs, Laura trailing behind.

At the time, Jennifer had resented the flash of what she had thought was old-fashionedness and overprotection. In retrospect, he'd been worried about possibilities he knew more about than she. His concern wasn't for keeping up appearances; it was for her.

"We'd best get back, dear. Your father was wondering where you'd gotten to. He decided to take Drew on a little walk outside. I think they both needed the break." Mama rubbed her back.

"The nursed were doing flushing his catheter, and asked me to leave." She shrugged. "I didn't mind. He wouldn't want me to watch that."

Mama blushed. "Yes...well. I can imagine." She smiled at the Joes. "Very nice to meet you, boys. I'm sure we'll chat more."

"Likewise, Ma'am." Alpine nodded.

Bazooka waved. "Bye."

Jennifer returned his wave as she followed her mother out of the room. The ward was quiet. No visitors beyond themselves, the nurses and doctors on duty had finished rounds and were behind desks or in offices, filling out paperwork and updating charts. She smiled at Matthews as she crossed to her brother's room and stepped through the door.

He was on his side.

"Mama!"

Conrad was lying on his side, facing the window. The ventilator still rose and fell, the readouts still beeped, but he was no longer flat on his back. "Mama! Look! Con!" Jennifer dashed around the foot of the bed, eager to see his eyes smile when he saw her face. "Con, you scared the shi-"

His eyes were still taped shut. "Con?" She reached out and lightly touched his shoulder, then gave a gentle shake. "Mama? He's moved!"

Mama sighed. Behind her, Matthews loomed in the doorway. "Jennifer, he's the same. The nurses have to roll him every so often, or he'll get sores. I'm sorry you thought...I'm sorry." She looked like she could cry at any minute.

"We rolled him after we finished flushing everything. Gave him a sponge bath, too. He's always enjoyed a nice sponge bath and back rub from a pretty nurse."

Mama snorted. "I bet."

Jennifer wondered how much it would take to scrape her heart off the linoleum. She dropped into a chair. "Oh. I just thought that, maybe, something had gone right for a change."

"Don't let it get you down." Nurse Matthews broke into a smile. "Nothing has gone wrong since you left. That's a plus."

"Sure." Looking around the room, Jennifer spotted a white plastic bag on one of the chairs. She couldn't see what was inside. A small sad-looking teddy bear with a thermometer and a cast had taken up residence on the bedside table next to a bouquet of daisies in a bright yellow vase. She hadn't been the only one to notice the lack of flowers. "Cute bear."

"Drew got that, and the flowers. I imagine Bazooka helped her out with a little money. Either that or one of the others. She seems to have made quite a few fans for herself." Mama moved the bag to the floor and sat down.

Drew always made friends. She had Con's confidence and amiability. Jennifer envied the both of them. It was easy to imagine Drew convincing any of the soldiers in the hospital to lend her a few dollars for flowers and a bear for their brother. She could wrap every one of them right around her little finger. The problem was stopping her. "What's in the bag?"

"I'm not allowed to look." Mama looked down at the plastic sack. "She says its a secret. She's got something up her sleeve, but I don't think it will hurt anything."