He told the story about finishing a brutal field exercise twice. He corrected Dad’s pronunciation of Camp Lejeune. He interrupted Mom when she tried to ask me about my new assignment. Then he glanced across the table at me and smiled. “So what does Nora actually do these days?” he asked. “Still building PowerPoints for pilots?” Dad gave an uncomfortable laugh. Mom said, “Logan.” I kept cutting my salmon. That had always been the family rhythm.