9
They hadn’t talked any more. Trisha and Billy simply sat with their backs against the rocket pod and watched the night beyond the stern of the aircraft carrier.
Trisha considered being amused that they were in the same position, both with their feet flat on the deck and their knees up with their arms rested atop them. She’d left her one hand resting lightly on his forearm, and he’d covered her hand with his big, enveloping grasp. They didn’t interlace their fingers, but they were holding hands anyway. Not something she did much. Couldn’t think of when she ever had.
They shared the quiet for a long time.
She’d have to thank Billy someday. It felt as if she was coming back into her body so that it fit once again. She’d been hit, which had been news to her.
But she hadn’t watched frien
