Richard asked for his usual Half and Half; half a glass of a lighter lager floated on top of half a glass of a heavy dark beer. Getting the pour right took some real skill, and was usually a good indication of the bartender's ability.
"This whole mixed times things has me mixed up. Don't know the why or how of it; we probably never will."
At her question, his face softened, his eyes grew more distant for a few seconds. Not the veteran's thousand-mile stare, but if it hadn't been for his company across the table he might have gone there.
"Yes, well..." his voice was softer. "There used to be one more of us. That war I mentioned. I was off doing... what I did. Behind enemy lines and all that. There was a... call it what it was, a terrorist attack in London. Michael and his fiance, wrong place, wrong time."
He smiled a little and shrugged. "Sorry about that. Try not to go there. Your question caught me off guard."