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THE SEAL TEAM
After I’ve been all through the house, I come to stand at the glass doors downstairs and stare at the Gulf until I sense someone behind me. I spin around to see Detective Harrison standing in my living room.
“The door was open,” he says apologetically.
He looks thin and pale but oddly solid - at peace in a way. I find myself grateful for him and for his wife, and I’m glad to see him now. I want to embrace him, but I don’t. I smile at him instead and hope I don’t seem cool, distant.
“Coffee?” I ask.
“Please,” he says.
I pour him a cup but abstain myself. I’m jittery already from too much caffeine this morning, and I feel a headache coming on. I sit on the couch, but he prefers to stand.
“How’s your family?” I ask.
“We’re okay, you know?” he says with a nod. “I think we’re going to be okay. I’ve hung out my own shingle
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