I snort. "She knows what she's doing."

"You are way too nice, Petr."

"Yeah," I agree, mind on Brianna. "I think I am sometimes."

"What's wrong?" Concern is in her voice. "The Army isn't trying to take you go overseas are they?"

"Nah. I'm grounded from that," I answer. "They let me make my own hours and everything. I've got a cushy recruiter job."

"Which you hate."

"It's something." Not what I want, but it does keep me in the military.

"You sound down, Petr."

"Maybe a bit. It's almost the holidays. You're away, and Mikael is gone," I admit. "Baba says you need to give him three grandkids by the way."

"Tell Baba my husband has to stay in country more than a few days for that to happen."

I smile at her spicy response.

"Petr, tell me you aren't giving Brianna the time of day." Hyper vigilant about being my little protector, Katya asks me this question almost every time we talk.

"Trying not to."

"What does that mean?"

"It means ... I don't want to but keep doing it."

"Petr!"

"I know." I push open the door to my bedroom and drop onto the couch facing the hearth, nudging my shoes off as I prepare mentally for her lecture.

"You are far too good for that bitch," she starts. "You want me to beat her up again?"

I laugh hard, recalling the incident between the two almost a year and a half ago, when Katya punched Brianna at a summer camp we sponsor every year for the children of parents who were slain in battle.

Katya sternly gives me an earful and finishes with, "Why do you keep going back to her?"

"I don't know," I respond.

"No, really? Why?"

"A little insecure, I guess." I stretch out on the couch and gaze at the ceiling.

"Well you have to stop, Petr. You have no reason to be insecure."

She's right, even if her delivery tends to drive off those she's trying to help.

"I think I'm coming home for Thanksgiving," Katya proclaims.

"Oh, no. You stay there," I say, amused. "You'll come just to beat up Brianna."

"And?"

"Let me figure things out for myself."

She's quiet for a moment. "Okay, Petr. You get one shot, then I'm stepping in."

"All right, sis." I love my sister. She means so well. When our mother died, Katya took over the roll of taking care of Mikael, Baba and me. She was nine at the time and absolutely fearless. She never lost that edge or her huge heart. "You doing okay?"

"When Sawyer's here, yes. When he's not, I have to entertain myself. I've taken up a couple hobbies but I'm not very good at them. Thinking of returning to school."

"For what?"

"Child psychology. Kids don't piss me off like adults."

"Sounds safe then."

"Not funny, Petr," she snaps. "How's Baba?"

"Healthy, happy. Excited about the holidays. You'll be back for Christmas, right?"

"Absolutely. If that means I have to fly to Iraq to drag Sawyer back, I will."

"I'm sure he'll appreciate that." I say, imagining my sister in the deserts of Iraq hunting down her husband. There's no doubt in my mind she's serious.

"Whatever."

"Good talking to you, sis."

"You, too, Petr. Call me tomorrow."

"I might be busy."

"Stop it! Call me tomorrow!"

I laugh again. "Alrighty."

"Love you!"

"Love you, too."

I hang up, cheered by the interaction. She's right about Brianna, and her conviction soothes the part of me chafing about what to do.

Of course, the moment I decide to grow balls, Brianna texts, and I'm thrown into confusion once more.

Okay. If that's what you want.

"Ugh." It'd be better to skip the feast than attend knowing Brianna is already sulking about it.

Fed up with women for the day, I change into workout clothes and go to the large gym on the first floor for a long, brutal session.

The next morning, I show up at the diner an hour later than usual, thanks to an emergency request from Bev for me to pick out matching tablecloths. The moment I chose, she realized I had neither taste nor color coordination ability, so she dismissed me and called my sister.

Claudia perks up from behind the counter as I enter and take my normal booth. Her ponytail is tied with a fall colored ribbon today, and from her pink cheeks, she walked to work. She meets my gaze briefly before circling the counter with a slice of pie and mug in her hands.

"You're late," she tells me briskly.

"Had to pick out tablecloths and wall decor for Thursday."

"Really? You're good at interior design?"

"Nope. That's why I'm here and not there."

She cracks a rare smile. "I still haven't decided. I'll save you the effort of asking."

"About Thursday?"

"No. About karate."

"No surprise."

Her eyes narrow.

"What about Thursday?" I ask.

She hesitates. "Maybe."

"Maybe," I repeat, eyebrows lifting. "Did hell freeze over?"

"No, but your coffee did while waiting for you." She sets down the mug in her hand. "Drink up, soldier boy!"

"Very sweet of you to set out my pie and coffee," I reply with a grin. "I'll try not to be late tomorrow."

She flushes. "I don't ... I didn't ..." Flustered, Claudia whirls and leaves, her usual defense mechanism for when I manage to elicit some sort of emotion from her.

Unusually satisfied that she almost admitted to waiting for me, I'm smiling more widely than the situation should warrant. That there might be a thaw to her cool courtesy genuinely impresses me. I was beginning to believe either my leg or my perseverance or something else about me was putting her off.

The coffee is cold and the pie warm from sitting out. I can't find it in me to care today. I'm too satisfied with my micro-victory to question what happened here. I'm halfway through my cold coffee when Bev sends me another text. This one, I can actually help out.

Leaving money for the food and my usual generous tip, I stand. I catch Claudia's pretty hazel gaze. "Gotta run. Be in tomorrow at the usual time." With a wink, I don't wait for her to give me the cold shoulder and leave.

Chapter Seven: Claudia.

Ugh. I don't know how I managed to let that happen, but I slipped up. Petr caught it, too. I'm beginning to wonder if Eileen is onto something. But I can't fathom what might remotely interest someone like Petr. He knows nothing about me, and I definitely am not trying to encourage him in any way. The woman he met here the first day was more his type than I am.

Not that it matters. I'm kinda glad his coffee was cold. I hope that makes up for me almost admitting I was waiting for him today. I tell myself I didn't any more than I do any other regular.

But I did, and I know it.

The day passes quickly, and Todd shows up around three. To my reluctant delight, he's got a girl with him. I go to his booth, and he looks up. His face is glowing. The girl across from him is a pretty brunette with green eyes and dimples.

"This is my sister," he mumbles. "Claudia, this is Maya."

"Nice to meet you Maya," I say with a smile. "Can I get you guys anything?"

They order sodas and pie.

Young love renders them low maintenance, and I check on them every hour or so until my shift is over at seven. I'm not sure what to think exactly about Todd having a real girlfriend. It's not just the fact that he's growing up but that he's developing a tie to the locals. It's been a no-no for so long, I'm not quite ready to endorse something as innocent and temporary as first love.

We leave the diner and return home. My mind is caught between Todd growing up and Petr's daily visits to the cafe. I'm feeling overwhelmed by both.

Todd doesn't go anywhere without his phone, and he disappears into his room with the cat to text Maya. I deposit my tips, make him his evening bowl of stew and then sit down at the kitchen table.

Our budget is pretty straightforward. Usually, it takes me five minutes to run the numbers and ensure we have enough for the apartment, utilities, Todd's school lunches, and groceries. I have a miscellaneous fund for clothes and anything else we need around the house.

I stare at the numbers without registering them. Todd has his Christmas present early the iPhone and I've got the funds set aside to send my mom a little something, too.

Blinking away thoughts, my gaze slides to the phone beside the notebook where I do my budget. Something's been bothering me all day, and I have a feeling I know what.

For the first time in a very long time, I want to call Simon. It's usually a duty I don't care for, one I perform just to check in with him so he can tell my mom I'm okay. There's a very small piece of me resigned to the life I live now, to running forever. I don't rely on the government to take care of my problem.

Tonight, I really, really want Simon to tell me something good is happening. Or maybe to give me more than his normal response about how slow progress is with the government.

I want Todd to have the chance to date a girl. I want to go to the Thanksgiving feast without feeling guilty knowing I'm going to walk away from everyone here without so much as a farewell.

Picking up the phone, I go to my room and close the door. My stomach is twisting once more, my emotions in turmoil. I dial the number to Simon's office and am transferred to him.

"Hey, it's me," I say with a quick glance to ensure the door is closed.

"Good to hear from you, Claudia," Simon replies warmly. "Your mother wanted me to tell you she loves and misses you both."

I smile, eyes watering at the thought of my mother. I haven't seen her since we started running. "Tell her we love and miss her, too, Simon," I whisper. "Any news?" I hold my breath, afraid to hope for good news and equally aware I'll be devastated if there is none.

"I'm afraid not, Claudia."

"No worries."

"Call back in a week? After Thanksgiving."

I should've considered things would be slower this week and probably for the next month as well, until after the New Year. "Sure."