Rather, the feeling I got from her was one of wonder, maybe even of yearning. No, she was at perfect peace with what was happening in her husband’s...office. While we talked through some of the details, she stretched her hand out to Mr. Cornell and he took it in his. I watched it all peripherally and saw the clasping, intertwining of fingers, the soft smiles shared. This night wasn’t about testing or challenging or intimidation of the woman from the office. There was something else at play. We sat outside on a big wooden deck overlooking Galveston Bay. We ate bowls of those delicious clams and we drank a couple of bottles of Barbera, an Italian style wine from the Rio Grande Valley.“We sat together on Adirondacks in the dark moonlit night looking at the lights of that moon, other nearby houses, and the city of Galveston across the bay reflected on the water. We talked, we joked, we shared each other’s company.“It was hot out there, but not as hot as it had been earlier. Not as hot. There was no response. He knocked with a greater intensity. Finally the door opened and a dark skinned woman appeared. ‘Yes,’ she hissed. She looked at the man. ‘I see,’ she laughed and opened the door for them. Zahava stared at the old dark skinned woman. Her face was withered and old. Her hair was bright white. Her eyes were nearly hidden due old age. ‘Haven’t you seen an Aapian before,’ the old woman let out. ‘No,’ Zahava replied. ‘Both of you shut up,’ the man snapped, ‘read her fucking. So help me God."There was some polite applause. The Army Surgeon General reached out to shake Amanda's hand for the cameras. The promotion ceremony was smaller than the last time she had been visited by the Army's bigwigs. Of course, this was merely a formality before her pending retirement. And it was less likely to make the news.She forced a smile for the three-star general who stepped back for the next part of the ceremony. Her husband came forward and the smile turned genuine. Brent's hair.