fantastic turkey?” said Chuck loudly, changing gears. “Come on, a toast to our beautiful wives!”
I raised my glass together with Chuck and Rory.
“To my beautiful wife,” I said to Lauren. She looked briefly at me but then looked downwards. Reaching over, I tried to gently turn her chin toward me, but she shrugged away.
“What is it?” I said softly.
“It’s nothing,” she whispered, meeting my gaze. “Happy Christmas.”
I drank from the glass of wine I’d been holding aloft, but Lauren barely even took a sip from hers.
“A Merry Christmas to you too, baby.”
§
“Just for a minute?” I asked again.
Lauren sighed and picked up a bowl from the soapy kitchen sink water. She began thoughtfully scrubbing it. We’d sent everyone else home, offering to clean up since Susie had provided the whole dinner. We were enjoying a glass of wine by candlelight while we washed up and put everything away.
I wanted to turn CNN on to see what was happening. I’d been itching to turn it back on all night.
“Okay, just for a minute, but I want to talk soon,” she said, looking at me steadily. “We need to talk, Mike.”
That sounded ominous, and I stopped wiping the pot I was drying. After piling my plate with food at dinner, I’d totally lost my appetite and hadn’t been able to eat most of it. Lauren had been quiet, avoiding my eyes, and while she could have just been worrying about her family…
“What do you want to talk about?” I asked, shrugging, trying to sound casual. My scalp began tingling.
She took a deep breath. “Let’s finish cleaning up first.”
I stared at her, holding the pot in one hand and washcloth in the other, but she returned her attention to the sink, scrubbing industriously. Shaking my head, I began stacking the last few pots and pans, put the last glasses into the dishwasher, and then threw the dishcloth onto the counter. Wiping my hands on my jeans to dry them, I picked up the remote.
Lauren sighed loudly again.
Immediately, CNN sprang to life. “This is only the fourth time the armed forces have been called to DEFCON 3.”
“What in the world?”
I sat down on our couch. Lauren put down the pot she was scrubbing. Images of an aircraft carrier filled the giant screen on our wall. It was one of ours this time.
“The only other times our military have been at DEFCON 3 were the Cuban Missile Crisis in ’62, when we were at the brink of nuclear war with Russia—”
“What’s happening?” asked Lauren.
“—the Yom Kippur War of ’73 when Syria and Egypt launched a surprise attack on Israel, nearly triggering another nuclear war—”
“I don’t know,” I replied, shaking my head. Lauren came to sit next to me.
“—and of course, on 9/11, when we were attacked by unknown forces that turned out to be al-Qaeda.”
I started to get up from the couch to go over to Chuck’s place, to see if he knew anything more, but Lauren reached out and stopped me. Without questioning her, I sat down and returned my attention to the TV.
“The only information we are getting is that CENTCOM, one of the US military’s internal command and control communication networks, has been compromised—”
“Mike, could we turn this off for a minute?”
I sat and stared at the TV, trying to understand what was going on. Multiple secret networks had been taken over, from the NSA to forward-deployed military units. They didn’t know the extent of the infection, or the purpose. Our military were readying for some kind of attack.
“Please, Mike,” repeated Lauren after another minute.
I turned to her, shaking my head.
“Are you serious? You want to have a talk now? The world is about to explode and you want to talk?”
Tears welled in her eyes. “Then let the world burn, but I need to talk to you right now. I need to tell you something.”
My heart raced. I knew what she was going to say, and I didn’t want to hear it. Containing myself, I stared at her.
“Can’t it
I raised my glass together with Chuck and Rory.
“To my beautiful wife,” I said to Lauren. She looked briefly at me but then looked downwards. Reaching over, I tried to gently turn her chin toward me, but she shrugged away.
“What is it?” I said softly.
“It’s nothing,” she whispered, meeting my gaze. “Happy Christmas.”
I drank from the glass of wine I’d been holding aloft, but Lauren barely even took a sip from hers.
“A Merry Christmas to you too, baby.”
§
“Just for a minute?” I asked again.
Lauren sighed and picked up a bowl from the soapy kitchen sink water. She began thoughtfully scrubbing it. We’d sent everyone else home, offering to clean up since Susie had provided the whole dinner. We were enjoying a glass of wine by candlelight while we washed up and put everything away.
I wanted to turn CNN on to see what was happening. I’d been itching to turn it back on all night.
“Okay, just for a minute, but I want to talk soon,” she said, looking at me steadily. “We need to talk, Mike.”
That sounded ominous, and I stopped wiping the pot I was drying. After piling my plate with food at dinner, I’d totally lost my appetite and hadn’t been able to eat most of it. Lauren had been quiet, avoiding my eyes, and while she could have just been worrying about her family…
“What do you want to talk about?” I asked, shrugging, trying to sound casual. My scalp began tingling.
She took a deep breath. “Let’s finish cleaning up first.”
I stared at her, holding the pot in one hand and washcloth in the other, but she returned her attention to the sink, scrubbing industriously. Shaking my head, I began stacking the last few pots and pans, put the last glasses into the dishwasher, and then threw the dishcloth onto the counter. Wiping my hands on my jeans to dry them, I picked up the remote.
Lauren sighed loudly again.
Immediately, CNN sprang to life. “This is only the fourth time the armed forces have been called to DEFCON 3.”
“What in the world?”
I sat down on our couch. Lauren put down the pot she was scrubbing. Images of an aircraft carrier filled the giant screen on our wall. It was one of ours this time.
“The only other times our military have been at DEFCON 3 were the Cuban Missile Crisis in ’62, when we were at the brink of nuclear war with Russia—”
“What’s happening?” asked Lauren.
“—the Yom Kippur War of ’73 when Syria and Egypt launched a surprise attack on Israel, nearly triggering another nuclear war—”
“I don’t know,” I replied, shaking my head. Lauren came to sit next to me.
“—and of course, on 9/11, when we were attacked by unknown forces that turned out to be al-Qaeda.”
I started to get up from the couch to go over to Chuck’s place, to see if he knew anything more, but Lauren reached out and stopped me. Without questioning her, I sat down and returned my attention to the TV.
“The only information we are getting is that CENTCOM, one of the US military’s internal command and control communication networks, has been compromised—”
“Mike, could we turn this off for a minute?”
I sat and stared at the TV, trying to understand what was going on. Multiple secret networks had been taken over, from the NSA to forward-deployed military units. They didn’t know the extent of the infection, or the purpose. Our military were readying for some kind of attack.
“Please, Mike,” repeated Lauren after another minute.
I turned to her, shaking my head.
“Are you serious? You want to have a talk now? The world is about to explode and you want to talk?”
Tears welled in her eyes. “Then let the world burn, but I need to talk to you right now. I need to tell you something.”
My heart raced. I knew what she was going to say, and I didn’t want to hear it. Containing myself, I stared at her.
“Can’t it
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