His Purple Heart

28 - Hooded Figure

ˆ Trystan ˆ

As far as Saturday nights went, this was a good one.

I was at home with my parents and they had invited Anthony and his son Antonio over for dinner. My sister, Malia, who I hadn't seen in a long time looked across the table and smiled at me. Sometimes I thought she felt bad for me. She was always smiling and checking up on me to make sure I was okay.

Everyone at the table had someone and I was the only one alone. Malia had her fiancé Nathan. Mom and dad had each other. Anthony had his son.

I had Ziggy.

I looked around the dinner table, letting the different conversations flow over me. Anthony and Nathan were having a heated talk about the upcoming Veteran's Ball while Malia talked to mom about Rihanna's new makeup line, and my dad told little Antonio about the time he almost lost his arm at war.

On the floor next to my chair, Ziggy had his head on his paws, eyes closed, ears twitching every now and again. I reached down and scratched behind his ears and secretly give him some of my beef.

"Uncle Trystan," little Antonio said. "Can I see your leg again after we're done eating? I just think it's so cool. You probably can run really fast. I mean, because your leg doesn't get tired like mine does."

"Sure, buddy." I ruffled Antonio's dark hair. "There are some cool videos online that show people running really fast on prosthetic legs. I'm sure you'll enjoy them."

"Yes, yes, can I see?"

"Eat your broccoli first," Anthony said as he picked up his son's fork and handed it to him. After he adjusted Antonio's napkin on his lap, he turned to look at me. "So, who are you taking to the ball as your plus one?"

I shrugged and casually put down my fork. Just like that my appetite was gone.

"You're the keynote speaker," Malia said. "You can't show up without a date."

Anthony agreed with a nod of his head. "I can help you fix someone if that's a problem? Or you can ask Marisol..."

"What about that beautiful painter?" my mother pitched in. "Aren't you dating her?"

"No," I answered gruffly.

"Well, what happened? She's gorgeous and talented, and I thought the two of you were great together."

"She didn't think so." Pushing my chair back, I stood up. "I don't want to talk about this."

"Trystan, son," my father said calmly. "It's okay."

My mother's face fell, frown lines creasing her forehead. "I just want to know what happened. After all I did buy that expensive painting to impress her on your behalf." And then softer under her breath she added, "And I really wanted grandchildren."

My father scowled. "Maven, let it go."

Upon hearing the phrase 'let let it go', little Antonio burst into the Frozen theme song, his voice young and cheerful.

I chuckled and sat back down. "Thanks buddy, you're right. The cold never bothered me anyway."

I glanced at Malia and she sent me an apologetic look. I smiled to reassure her that I was okay. The last time the entire family had come together like this, my youngest sister Devina was still alive. No one mentioned the fact that she wasn't here, but I knew they all missed her, and the lack of alcohol at the table was a stark reminder of why.

The tension in the air slowly faded. Laughter and conversation flowed around me again and I was about to relax in my chair when my phone rang.

Unknown number.