"Breakfast in five, soldier," he said, using the greeting he always used when he was home.
"You're too late," Lucas replied. "I've already eaten half."
"Then I have underestimated your readiness."
Angela set her mug down. "You told him you might be here Friday. Please don't let him spend the whole day at the window if you can't make it."
Vincent's expression changed. He understood that Angela was not accusing him. She had spent fifteen years holding their household together through orders, transfers, emergency travel, and holidays that had to be celebrated on the wrong dates. She knew better than most what his work required. She also knew that Lucas was old enough to remember every empty chair.
"The return flight moved up," Vincent said. "I should land late tonight. I have a Pentagon briefing in the morning, but I'm arranging to get to the school after that. I'll send a proper message when it's confirmed."
Lucas nearly knocked over his cereal. "Does that mean you can come? In uniform?"
"One question at a time."
"That's two questions."
Vincent smiled. "I can tell you're ready for your assignment. Yes, I intend to come. About the uniform, we'll see."
"Can I tell everyone you met the president?"
"You may tell them that I've been fortunate to serve alongside many people, some of them very well known. But don't build your entire presentation around meeting someone famous. What matters about a job is what you do for others."
Lucas looked down at his cereal. Other children spoke freely about their parents. Tyler Bennett's father worked with lawmakers. Sophia Wilson's mother worked in the Capitol building.
Deshawn Williams's father owned a small garage. Lucas thought all those jobs were interesting. Why did his father's occupation always come with instructions about which details to leave out?
"Everybody else gets to talk about their family," he said.
"And so do you," Vincent answered. "We just leave private movements and work details out of it. My rank isn't a secret. But our home life belongs to us. Your teacher can call us if she needs clarification."
Angela glanced at the printed career-day notice tucked under a refrigerator magnet. "I put both our phone numbers on the parent sheet," she said. "And your father is listed as a federal employee. That's deliberate, but it's not a false statement."
"Will people think I'm lying?" Lucas asked.
Both parents went still. The question was too specific to be entirely hypothetical, and Vincent noticed it.
"Has somebody said that to you?" he asked.
Lucas shook his head quickly. He did not want to talk about the small incidents that had accumulated since the beginning of fourth grade. He did not want his mother to make another appointment with the principal or his father to sound disappointed that he had been carrying something alone.
"Not exactly."
Vincent leaned toward the phone.