The paintings were displayed in an assiduously professional manner, spaced tastefully and illuminated by tiny, extraordinarily bright halogen lamps suspended at the end of curved brass arms. The gallery was near campus, and the show had attracted a less stuffy crowd than some we had attended, despite the requirement for formal attire. There were a fair number of other students, mostly undergrads, and I recognized a couple of adjunct professors, both with significant others in tow. The event was well-attended, and a collective murmur of conversation melded with the clinking of wine glasses to form a more-or-less continual undertone of background noise. Kate, a lithe co-ed I had been seeing for several weeks, was on my arm, resplendent in white hose and a dress that sported a long, enticing vent that ran up one side. She enjoyed the periodic gallery show, and I enjoyed her, so I often found myself musing artistic efforts such as ones presently on display. The week before, we’d found. Wow is that a blast from the past.”“So you know him?” Karen asked surprised by her father’s reaction.“Yes. He was stationed aboard my ship and I got to know him a little. I remember picking him up after one of his missions. I’ve never seen such a beat up bunch of Marines, but they took the hill, metaphorically speaking, thanks to him. He received the Congressional Medal of Honor,” Vincent said. He didn’t know what their mission had been, but when he’d seen that boat full of shot up men he had known it hadn’t been a stroll in the park. It was so bad that the boat sank even while they were unloading it.Although he had worked with Jack all day, Mike was impressed by that fact. Smiling at his father-in-law, he said, “I guess that means that you salute him even if you outrank him.”“That’s right and I’d be proud to do it,” Vincent answered with a curt nod of his head.Karen sat back in her chair and looked at Mike. In hind sight, it was good that he had insisted that she not make a scene.
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