Fifteen minutes at my parents’ house, and I’m already past ready to leave. Outside of medicine, my dad’s main interests are golf and his garden. None of those three subjects are ones that interest me in the least. Pair that with years of animosity, and pleasant conversation is hard to come by between me and my dad. I nod along as he goes on about his hole in one earlier, paying more attention to the bird flitting past the living room window and resisting the urge to check my phone. We put an offer in on the yellow bungalow last night. If we don’t get it, there will be other houses. But I want this one. I’m ready to take the moving in together step now.

When I tune back into the conversation, my father brings up a topic that usually has me tensing.

He leans forward in his favorite armchair, abandoning his relaxed pose. “One of my department heads, Dr. Murphy, his son is applying to the Air Force Academy. He’s a close friend outside of work. I know his family well. I thought you might be willing to put him in touch with someone who might be able to put in a good word. If you are, well, I’d appreciate it.” My father has to force those last three words out. He hates asking for help or favors from anyone—especially from me.

The first time my father has ever brought up the Air Force without a lecture, and it’s to ask for a favor on behalf of someone else. He doesn’t seem upset by his close friend’s son’s career choice. I grit my teeth. “You can give him my number.”

“I meant—”

“I know what you meant, Dad. But you don’t know anything about my job. To beat around any bullshit, I’m damn good at it. I’m the youngest commissioned captain in my class. If I recommend this kid, it’ll carry weight with Admissions.”

I take a long sip of my beer, stand, and then turn to head back out onto the porch. I was sitting out there, waiting for Evie, when my dad lured me in under the pretense of a beer. To ask for a favor.

My mom’s chopping away in the kitchen, trying to stay oblivious to the tension. As always.

“Grayson. Wait.”

I pause, sigh, and look back at my dad. “What?”

“I’m sorry, son. You’re right. I don’t know anything about the Air Force, about your work, and that’s all on me.”

“Yeah, it is.”

He sighs. “I was disappointed, Gray.”

“I’m aware.”

“You’ve always been stubborn. Contrarian. I thought it was just a phase, that you would try it out and then come back. Stay close to us. Go to Duke.”

I feel eighteen again. “Most parents would be proud.”