Talk To Me [Rooster]

ONE

It was a beautiful day for a funeral. 
The sky was blue, the grass green, the sun hung high, everything was perfect. After all it was an admirals funeral. 
But for Tessa Kasansky it all was a blur.

The speeches, all the faceless men in uniforms, all the gravestones, row after row, Maverick pounding the wings into her dads casket, the jets performing the missing man formation over their heads. Ceremony and tradition. Not once wasn't she frowning, as she bravely stood through the whole event, shoulder back, head held high.

She was listening, yes, but nothing was actually reaching her. 

She never felt so much out of place. All this talk about "Iceman", his accomplishments and service to this nation, but not one word on his personality and character, that would remind you that he was a human being, a husband, a dad.

"Hey Tess". After everything was over, Pete Mitchell approached her and gave her a worried look. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, sure", She tried to say, choking on her words, only now noticing tears had run down her cheeks. She forced a smile on her face. "I'm good, Mav".

"I'm sorry, that was a stupid question". He laughed nervously, scanning her face for signs of annoyment. 

"Yeah, stupid pretty much nails it. I've heard that question about a thousand times only today", she said, but with a reassuring smile, that she didn't take it badly. From him at least. 

"Can imagine that. But I guess there are just no right words for this kinda situation". He paused, thinking for a moment.

"Listen, everyone here, including me and my pilots, know what a great deal your father did, to keep this country safe", he nodded to a group of younger pilots in uniforms. They stood together, quietly chatting from time to time, looking distant and unattached. Great, more people that only knew him on paper.
One of them stood a bit aside, staring at something in the distance only he could see, fumbling with something in his hand. He had a mustache that didn't match his boyish features, but his stern look. Apparently he noticed her glance, meeting her eyes for a split second before looking away again. He returned to the group, but didn't chime in to chit chat.

"I knew him as friend, though. As a comrade and most of all as a big cocky asshole with a big, big heart", Mav said with a slight smile and tickled a husky laugh out of me. I felt his big hand on my shoulder, an awkward gesture, but it felt reassuring to have at least one person at this funeral who felt the same as I did. "Would you like to join me and Penny at the bar later? Catch up maybe, drink some beers".

"Yeah, sounds good". It really didn't. She hasn't seen Penny in ages, she would love seeing her again. When Tessa was younger, she and her husband would take her sailing with them, while her dad was busy doing "secret" missions and her mom was even busier being worried about them. But a crowded bar with shouting drunk people, was not her first choice as a place to grieve her deceased father.

"Okay, meet us there at six. It won't get late, I promise!", he said and touched her shoulder again for a quick goodbye. As he walked off, cap under his arm, confident stride, Tess noticed how everyone was looking at him. Just like everyone used to look at her dad. That look of timid admiration. That look of "Gooddamit, I hate that this guy is as good as he is." 

She didn't know  Pete particularly well, she only knew that her Dad loved him and thought of him very big. But he knew her quiet well in return. He saw her growing up, knew her quirks, and that she liked going to bed early and have her privacy. That she wanted to be as far away from any military base as she can be. She hated everything about it.

"Miss Kazansky?" Tessa turned. That guy with the funky mustache. He was much taller than Maverick, his shirt tightly wrapping around his broad shoulders. He had dark hair, a fresh haircut, tanned skin, and chocolaty brown eyes with crinkles around them. A sign of the times when he used them for laughter. There was no joy in them now. Neither sadness, nor anything else. Just empty. She didn't bother looking down at his name tag. "I would like to speak my condolences."

"Did you know him, Lieutenant?" She hated herself for knowing his rank by his uniform. He looked startled for just a second, before regaining his composure. 

"Not in person, no, but I –"

"Thats what I figured" She was being harsh, she knew that. She just could't stand all those empty apologies anymore. She walked off without a word, leaving him there alone. As she walked down the beach, away from the funeral, she felt herself relaxing. She finally stood still where the sand met the ocean, slipped off her heels and let the waves wash over her bare feet. The cold water send shivers down her spine, so she wrapped her arms around herself, rubbing away the goosebumps.

Tessa did not feel like herself that day. She wanted to get out of this tight black dress and fall into bed and not wake up sooner than three months from now. In her dreams she would play volleyball with her father, when he was still healthy. She would cheat and laugh and run around not keeping score, while her dad would try to get her to play competitive game. He would visit her in New York and they would take long walks through central park. They would cook together their famous pasta sauce, everyone loved, while listening to their handcrafted 80s playlist, dancing on the kitchen tiles. He would be here, safe and sound.
Tessa missed him so much it physically hurt. They obviously saw it coming for years, they calculated his death almost to the day. Still. It hit her like a train.
And now, as she looked onto this big wide ocean, touching her the same time as the deepest crevices and the wide, blue sky, she felt overwhelmed. He wasn't here. He was somewhere else. Or nowhere at all. Who knows. But not with Tessa. Never again.

She never looked back at the small crowd, that was getting smaller every second. Most people had left already. But mustache guy was in the same place where she had so rudely left him, although he had sat down in the sand, hiding his sad eyes (which no one could see) behind dark aviator sunglasses, watching the same ocean but grieving another father.

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I haven't been writing in ages, so apologize id advance. Pls comment everything that is on you mind, if it's feedback, criticism or even suggestions or wishes what you would like to see in this story :)

Lots of love <3