“Quinn?” There was an inflection of surprise in his mother’s tone.

Wondering why, he said, “Yes, Mom.”

“I wasn’t expecting to hear your voice.”

He let out a short laugh. “Mom, you called my phone. Who else’s voice would you hear?”

“I meant you never answer my calls. At least not live and in person. When AI takes over the world, I’m ready. I already have a very close personal relationship with your voicemail, whom I’ve spoken to more than I have you since you moved out there.”

He hung his head.

Over a decade later and his mother was still throwing it in his face that he’d moved to the other side of the country and away from her.

He drew in a breath before changing the subject. “So how are you? How’s Dad?”

“We’re fine. Your sister, however, is another matter.”

He closed his eyes and took another bracing breath. His mother might be mad at him for joining the Navy right out of high school and moving across the country, but his little sister Josie was the true Baldwin family problem child.

“What is it now?” he asked.

“It’s too much to get into on the phone since I know you can’t talk and we have limited time, so—”

“I never said that,” he interrupted while stifling a sigh.

She continued as if he hadn’t spoken, “—let me get right to the point. They mailed the invitation for your high school reunion here to the house.”

He did the math and frowned. “My thirteen-year high school reunion?”

“Apparently it’s for everyone. All the graduating classes together. Your sister’s year. Yours. Every alum since the school opened back in the sixties. Your sister’s very excited about it.”

Why? He had an image of the youngest, most recent graduates all taking selfies while the geriatric crowd sat and plugged their ears, scowling because the music was too loud.

“Sounds great,” he said with enough sarcasm that even his mother should pick up on it.

She didn’t. “Do you want me to mail the invitation to you there?”

No, he did not since he wouldn’t be there to receive it. He didn’t mention that but did ask, “When is the date of this thing?”

With any luck it was while he’d still be out of the country.

“November something,” she answered.

Over six months away. Crap.

Barring any unforeseen circumstances, the team would be back in Coronado in time for him to attend. And, given the fact they’d just have returned from a six-month deployment and at that point he wouldn’t have taken leave for a year he’d be due.

Command would grant his request. He’d be able to fly home for a visit, which meant he’d also have to attend this thing he didn’t want to go to while there.

He’d have no good excuse not to.

But if he knew one thing from being in the military for all of his adult life it was that no date was ever set in stone. There was a good chance his plans would change and he wouldn’t get home in time to attend.

He could only hope…

“Speaking of dates…” his mother continued. “Would you be bringing one home with you for the reunion?”

“Real subtle, Mom. And no, I’m not dating anyone.”

“Just asking. You’re not getting any younger.”

He shook his head but decided now was not the time to explain one more time that dating for a Navy SEAL, for him at least, could be more trouble than it was worth.

For now, he’d make his mother happy and pretend he might attend this thing.

“So back to this reunion… Don’t mail the invitation. Can you just take a picture of it and text that to me?” He hesitated. “Do you know how to do that?”

“Quinn Allen Baldwin. I’m turning fifty, not one-hundred. Yes, I know how to text photos. Jeez.”

Even at thirty-one he still felt like a child when his mother pulled out his middle name and that tone of voice. “Sorry. I wasn’t sure.”

He didn’t mention he’d spent a good hour doing long distance tech support over video chat from Djibouti after she’d somehow enabled the audio-description feature on the television and couldn’t turn it off.

“Anything else?” he asked.

“I suppose you have to run off so no. Nothing important.”

His mother had passive-aggressive down to a science. He almost denied having to run off as she’d put it but actually he did have somewhere he needed to be like now.

He couldn’t tell her the rest of his team would already be in the cages doing one final check that their kits were packed correctly for their upcoming deployment.

That was something he needed to do too prior to the zero-seven-thirty team meeting, the last one on base before they rallied for the transport later today.

She knew he was deploying soon but not that they were going wheels-up tonight. Exact timing and locations of troop movements were something he couldn’t discuss with his mother across the country over a non-secure line.

With his hands tied by Op Sec—or perhaps more accurately it was his tongue that was tied—he stifled a sigh. “All right. I’ll call you soon.”

“Oh? Okay. We’ll see.” The sarcasm shaded with doubt had him sighing.

“Love you, Mom,” he said loud and with finality before she returned the sentiment and he disconnected the call.

He did love her and his dad and his annoying little sister Josie. That didn’t mean he relished the idea of rushing home to New York immediately after his boots hit the tarmac in Coronado after being away for six months just to go to his bullshit thirteen-year high school reunion.

Spending long overdue time with family was one thing. It was quite another thing to have to endure a night of awkward conversation and fake smiles with classmates he hadn’t seen in years.

Worse, all of these forced social niceties would have to be executed amid a mixed crowd of other random alumni, both very young and very old, ninety-percent of whom he wouldn’t even know.

What genius had thought that was a good idea?

It was going to suck.

In a town as small as his hometown, everyone within his mother’s orbit, even peripherally, knew what he did for a living. He’d be bombarded with questions ranging from the inappropriate to the ridiculous.

How many confirmed kills do you have? What’s your longest shot? Is being a SEAL really like on television? Are you on SEAL Team Six?

As if Team Seven wasn’t good enough?

He hated all that shit. The dread he felt just thinking about it had him reaching for the bottle of Rolaids on the nightstand, which he realized he’d better shove into his duffel for the transport.

But what he really hated—what was likely the underlying reason for his needing to stock up on antacids—was the battle that continuously raged within him just below the surface. A war between what he owed his family versus the responsibilities of his military career.

Somewhere lost in the middle was what he owed to himself. Some semblance of a personal life. Friends who weren’t part of his team. Maybe a wife and kids of his own.

He’d get around to all that…one day.

That day was not today.

Read how life turns Quinn's plans upside down in HOME COMING