“And this is Nick,” Mary said. “He’s—well, an old friend of Elissa’s, actually.” She set a place at the head of the table, John’s customary spot. Then she stood back, looked from Ty to Nick and back again. “Ty Lofgren,” she said. “And Nick—What’s your last name, Nick?”

“Overby,” Nick said.

“Nick Overby,” Mary said.

Nick reached out and shook Ty’s hand. Ty had a firm handshake, and a solid, guarded look in his eye.

“You boys eat, why don’t you?” Mary said. “Lissa should be down soon. I’m going to go see how JJ is.”

“Is he all right?” said Ty, looking up at her as he took his seat.

“He just ate a few too many waffles,” said Mary with a wan smile. She went out.

“If you boys’ll excuse me a minute,” Harry said, and left the room, too.

Still standing, Nick watched Ty reaching for the platter of waffles.

“So, what unit were you with?” Ty asked as he stabbed two waffles and transferred them to his plate.

Nick decided: He had made a mistake coming here. Lissa was all set to marry this nice PFC from her hometown, and her family obviously was in favor of the match. Nick fit here about as well as a penguin in a flock of turkeys. And they were bent on getting rid of him, besides. He hated to give up, but to stay would be pure foolishness. Sure, Elissa had kissed him back, but he’d had surprise on his side; he figured she’d come to her senses the minute she saw the way her family felt about him. “Sorry,” he said to Ty. “I reckon I’d best be on my way.”

“How do you know Lissa?”

“I knew her a long time ago. So, uh, congratulations,” Nick said. He held out his hand. Ty got to his feet and shook hands with him, still looking confused. “I reckon I come back a bit too late,” Nick said.

It seemed then that Ty figured things out. “Yeah,” he said, glaring at him.

Nick started out of the dining room. “Would y’all tell them I had to go? And thanks for breakfast?”

“Sure,” Ty snapped.