"I know you didn't. That's what I..." He put both hands flat on the counter, as if to steady himself. "You told them to move before you even got on the ship. You didn't have to. You could have waited till you were on the bridge. If you'd waited, or if I'd held you, two more minutes, I don't know, I keep..." He stopped. "I don't have a right to say thank you to you. I know that. I'm saying it anyway. Thank you. For my son."
"You're welcome," she said. "I'd have said it to anyone's son." She meant that, and she let him hear that she meant it, and she let him hear the other thing in it too.
He nodded slowly. He took it.
"I'm going to write a report," she said. "The pilots have to, for an incident like tonight. Delays, the parted line, all of it. I'm going to write down what happened at this gate. All of it. Exactly. Including what you said to me."
"I'd expect so," Wade said. "I'd expect you'd have to."
"I don't have to. I'm going to."
"Yes ma'am."
The rain ticked on the roof of the shack. Somewhere down the wharf, a forklift beeped, backing up.
"Can I ask you something?" she said.