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poured two glasses of sweet tea. “Hill Air Force Base.”
    “Utah, huh?” Patrick hadn’t spoken to his father in fourteen years, since the day he left. He’d walked out without looking back at the family that needed him, the family that was falling apart trying to care for Trevor. He had no interest in getting in touch with the bastard.
    “Yep, he’s some big wig out there.” She moved to sit at the kitchen table and look out the window.
    “Why don’t you go take a nap or whatever you need to do?” Patrick suggested. “I’ve got him. I’ll be here for a few days and hopefully that’ll give you and KK a break.”
    She smiled weakly at Patrick. “Thanks, baby boy.” She rose from the table. “We’ll catch up later, okay? I’ll just take a quick nap.” She ran a hand over his shoulder and disappeared into the back bedroom.
    Patrick took his tea into the den where Trevor sat, playing video games. “Let’s go to the park, man, throw the ball around.”
    “Let me finish this game, ‘kay?”
    “Okay, bud.” Patrick sat down and watched the video game and thought about his brother, the one that died on the ground that night, the one that taught him everything he knew about ball, girls, and fighting. He owed Trevor. He wished he knew how to help; he just didn’t. He didn’t know how to treat him.
    Fucking impossible situation .

    Katrina smiled down at him as he lay splayed on his childhood bed in a room that hadn’t changed a bit. Posters of Chipper and Andruw Jones, along with his favorite catcher of all time, Mike Piazza, were still on his wall and pictures were still stuck in the bookcase his dad had put together right before he left. He covered his eyes by draping his arm over his head.
    “You ready to get up?” Katrina asked.
    “Well, you haven’t really given me an option about that, have you?”
    “Well, my best friend from the hospital wants to meet for lunch and I know you want to get a run in, so I’m waking you up.”
    “What does you going to lunch with a friend have to do with me?” Patrick peeked above his arm at her, noticing that she was dressed in a sundress and flip flops already.
    “It’s already ten. I mean, do you sleep this late in DC?”
    “I never sleep this late,” he answered, sitting up.
    “Okay, so you’re going with me to lunch with my friend.”
    Now he was paying attention. He didn’t want to eat lunch with her friend.
    “So, her boyfriend is about to graduate from college and wants to come back to Savannah to be a cop. I told her you could talk to him about law enforcement and stuff.”
    “Why are you best friends with a 21 year old?”
    “She’s 23, he’s 21.”
    He laughed. “Cougar.”
    “Whatever. You should see this guy, he’s the hottest fucker…”
    “Um, how did I get roped into this?”
    “We’re going to this new brewery downtown, Southbound. A friend of Tim’s is the brewmaster.”
    “The brewmaster?”
    “I don’t know…the master of brew?”
    Patrick laughed. “You’re too much. Whatever,” he conceded, pulling a t-shirt on and grabbing his phone.
    “So you’re cool with going?”
    “Its fine, KK. I’m going to run for a bit, shower, and then I’ll be ready.”

    A few hours later, he and Katrina were sitting in a brewery with one very assertive nurse and her boyfriend, Tim. Stephanie, her sister’s friend, had her long brown hair pulled back in a severe ponytail and was snacking on pretzels. He didn’t know where pretzels qualified as lunch, but he wasn’t impressed. They were all lined up at the bar, the girls in the middle, tasting several beers brewed on site.
    “Patrick, could you please tell Tim about law enforcement and any experience you have with the Savannah Police Department?” Stephanie said with an air of disapproval.
    Tim was baby-faced and his brown hair was long and shaggy in what was called the “Georgia Boy” haircut, which was really no hair cut at all.
    At the mention of Savannah police