The sun had fallen by the time they got back to their modest home in San Francisco. Ford was relieved to see that the house looked much as he remembered, aside from a few new knick-knacks and appliances. Dinner was cartons of ice cream, including Ford’s favorite: Rocky Road. Across the table, Sam dug enthusiastically into a big carton of chocolate-chip mint. His earlier shyness had faded somewhat, now that they were all settled back in at home, in familiar surroundings. Maybe Sam had just needed a little time to get used to seeing his dad again?

Ford hoped that was the case. “Sam, you better enjoy this,” his mother said. “You’re not getting ice cream for dinner every night.”

“We aren’t?” Ford said through a mouthful of Rocky Road, provoking giggles from Sam. “Why not?”

Elle rolled her eyes. “Sam, how do you have a ten-year-old for a father? How is that mathematically possible?”

After ice cream, it was time to put Sam to bed. His room still had same blue wallpaper, adorned with rockets and blazing comets, he and Elle had picked out four years ago. Pencil markings on a wall charted his growth. Although Elle had been needed to help Sam into his pajamas, Ford had insisted on tucking his son into bed himself. But first he had to clear off a menagerie of toy soldiers, tanks, and dinosaurs from atop the covers. He couldn’t help smiling at the toys, which reminded him of the same ones he’d played with as a child—before his mother died and everything went to hell.

Don’t think about that now, he scolded himself. Concentrate on today… and Sam.

“See this one here?” He plucked a green plastic soldier from the bed-slash-battleground. “That’s a lot like Daddy in his uniform, but mine’s way cooler. We need to go to the toy store, find you a Navy man. How ‘bout that?”

Sam nodded happily, grinning up at Ford, as his dad tucked him in.

“Alright, big man,” he said, mussing the boy’s hair. “Hit the rack.”

Sam cuddled in beneath the covers. “Can you sing the dinosaur song… like Mommy?”

The dinosaur song? Ford was baffled—and acutely aware of long he had been missing from his son’s life. “Not sure I know that one.”

He looked to Elle for help. She smiled at him from the doorway, letting him fend for himself, just like he’d insisted.

Captain Freeman was right, he decided. They really don’t train us for this.

He got up to leave. A worried look came over the little boy’s face.

“Dad? You’ll be here tomorrow, too, right?”

Ford winced at the anxiety in his son’s voice.

“Yeah, buddy. I told you. The next two weeks are all yours.” He reluctantly retreated toward the hall, where Elle was waiting. “Now get some shut-eye, okay? I’ll still be here in the morning.”

“You promise?”