Chapter Twenty
Sloane
Thanksgiving dinner consisted of a turkey, mashed potato, and gravy MRE in a tent that we’d put up earlier that morning after having moved our position for the fifth time in two weeks.
“Hmm,” O’Brien, my second lieutenant murmured as he chewed thoughtfully. After swallowing, he continued, “Turkey rehydrates better than you’d think.”
I looked around at the small group of men who were all supposed to be at home with their families today. I didn’t know if it was better to talk about what they’d be doing if they were stateside, or if that would only make it worse.
We’d been blacked out for two weeks, and not communicating with Ashley felt like one of Dante’s circles of hell. Still, if someone had wanted to hear about her, I would have gladly told them how great she is. So, I figured the guys wouldn’t mind talking about their loved ones either.
I’d pose the question, and if they wanted to talk about home, cool. If not, they didn’t have to.
“What would you be doing if you were home today?”
Dontrell Johnson, a first sergeant from Louisiana, was first to speak up.
“I’d be at my meemaw and pappy’s. My mama and her sisters would be in the kitchen helping my meemaw cook all the fixins, while my uncles and pappy would be outside deep frying a turkey, and all the grandkids would be playing touch football.”
Roy Buckley, one of the gunners, was also from the south and closed his eyes as Dontrell talked.
“I can practically taste the sweet potatoes, collard greens, and corn bread…”
“And the black-eyed peas and cranberry sauce,” Dontrell added.
“My mom always makes mashed potatoes and green bean casserole,” Shawn O’Brien, a.k.a. Mr. Mail Call, said wistfully.
“No, no, no,” Luis Hernandez, a first lieutenant from Arizona chimed in. “You haven’t lived until you’ve had a traditional Mexican Thanksgiving dinner.” He poured on his Mexican accent as he listed the foods he’d be eating. “Tamales, enchiladas, empanadas, pozole, menudo… and flan and tres leches for dessert.”
“What about you, Cap’?”
If I wasn’t deployed for Thanksgiving, I’d be happy with whatever my friends were making. I was always in charge of dessert because I could order pumpkin and pecan pies from the local bakery. But if I told my men that, the conversation would inevitably turn to why I didn’t spend it with my family, and that wasn’t something I shared with many people.
“Oh, you know… I’d be gorging on turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, cranberries, pumpkin pie… the usual.”
My thoughts went to Ashley, and I wondered how she was spending her holiday. Would we make new traditions together?
Someone asked, “What’s the first thing you’re going to do when you get home?”
O’Brien answered without hesitation. “Hug my girlfriend.”
I smiled at him from across the pop-up table.
“I didn’t know you had a girlfriend. Is it serious?”
He stirred the dried mashed potatoes on his plate.
“Yeah, I was planning on proposing when I was home.”
“No shit!” was muttered in a variety of different ways from the guys.
“Yeah, I bought the ring and everything before we shipped out, but I couldn’t ever find the right time to ask her.”
“You’ll know when it’s the right time,” I said like I was well versed on the subject.
“Think you’ll ever get married, Cap’?”
I thought about my beautiful brown-haired, hazel-eyed girl and conceded I didn’t hate the idea.
“It could happen.”
“Your pen pal, Ashley?” O’Brien asked.
I shrugged. “Stranger things have happened.”
“Did you tell her she needs a new stationary color?”
“Nope. I happen to like pink.”
“Yeah, I’ll bet you do,” Luis said with a shit-eating grin.
Luckily, my men respected me enough to not pile on with anything cruder than that, because I might have had to throat-punch anyone who disrespected her. And for this mission, I needed all my Marines in top-form with working larynxes, so I could get back home to her in one piece.
****
Ashley
My mom, who had just finished her LPN three years ago, was one of the least senior nurses at the retirement home where she worked. Which meant she had a shift Thanksgiving Day. So, Tammy and I celebrated “Friendsgiving” with friends who were transplants to California and not going to their hometowns for Thanksgiving.
When we sat down at the table, Tammy suggested that before we ate, we go around and say something we’re thankful for.
When it was my turn, I looked around the table and easily answered, “I’m thankful for my friends and family.”
Sloane could be included in the friends category, right?
Then, not wanting to thumb my nose at the employment gods, I quickly added, “And my job.”
“What about your boyfriend?” Tammy asked with a sly grin.
Monica, our hostess, said, “Oooh, you have a boyfriend, Ash?”
Before I could respond, Tammy interjected, “And, he’s hot.”
That brought a chorus of oohs and ahs from the rest of them.
Carson scooped a helping of mashed potatoes on his plate as he asked, “So, where is he today?”
Thinking about him made my solar plexus ache, but I was determined to remain upbeat.
“He’s deployed in the Middle East.”
“Oh, he’s in the military?”
“Yeah, a captain in the Marine Corps.”
Monica paused carving the turkey and looked at me with a soft smile. “Aw, your very own officer and a gentleman.”
I returned her smile. “Something like that.”
Tammy asked, “Have you heard from him?”
I felt my face fall.
“No, not since the letters he sent after he got back to camp. But he warned me I wouldn’t hear from him for a while, so I’m trying not to panic.”
“I’m sure he’s fine. He seems more than capable of handling business.”
I really hoped so.
His last letter before his radio silence was a mixture of telling me how glad he was to have me in his life, and then he reiterated that I shouldn’t wait for him. But if I did wait for him, all the things he looked forward to doing with me.
It was obvious he’d been nervous about what he was about to undertake, so I took the last letter with a grain of salt and focused on the one he’d written on the plane.
The one where he told me he loved me and talked about the future he envisioned with me. That letter kept me going.
~~~~
When I woke up Saturday morning, I was a year older and officially in my late -twenties. I didn’t know how to feel about that.
I didn’t have kids or a husband, milestone measurements I analyzed every birthday.
But I had a job I enjoyed and a new boyfriend I was in love with.
Plus, I was making progress toward becoming a PT, which would mean a lot more money. My goal was by my thirty-first birthday, I’d be a full-time physical therapist with the VA. Although I may be able to make more money in private practice, I planned on staying where I was, if they’d promote me once I graduated. I loved working with veterans.
My phone dinged with a text, and I picked it up off the table to look at the screen.
Mom: My beautiful daughter! Happy birthday! Are we still on for lunch and a movie?
Me: Thank you! And yes, I’ll see you at Figurino’s at noon!
More incoming text messages and DM notifications from more friends, family, and colleagues came in, and I felt grateful that so many people cared about me. But with every beep, I couldn’t help but feel disappointed there was nothing from Sloane.
Not that I even thought that was possible since he’d never contacted me by any means other than a letter. Yet, I kept wishing for a birthday miracle.
I’d just finished getting ready for lunch when there was a knock at my front door.
I wasn’t expecting anyone so the part of me that had seen way too many Hallmark movies immediately wondered, c ould it be Sloane surprising me?
Scurrying toward the door, I had enough common sense to ask, “Who is it?” before just flinging it open.
“Peasley’s Posies. I have a delivery for Ashley Youngman.”
I peered through the peephole and saw a man in a delivery uniform holding a flower arrangement, so I unlocked and opened the door.
The man handed me a beautiful bouquet of roses and calla lilies that looked expensive, then pulled a device from the belt on his hip and said, “Sign here.”
I shifted the vase so I could sign with my right index finger, then said, “Hold on, let me get you a tip.”
The man waved his hand, “It’s been taken care of.” He turned to walk down the hall, calling, “Have a good day!” over his shoulder.
I closed and locked my door then set the arrangement on my counter so I could take a step back and admire how beautiful the flowers were.
The card was tucked in the center, and I plucked it from the clear plastic prongs. The envelope was sealed, which I found interesting. Normally the back flap was just tucked inside.
As I removed the cardstock, I noticed Sloane’s handwriting and my heart beat a little faster. He’d ordered these personally and had filled out the card himself!
Dear Ashley,
I’m sorry I can’t be there in person to help you celebrate your actual birthday but know I’m there in spirit.
Wishing you the best day ever, dulzura .
Love,
Sloane
When I leaned over to inhale the roses’ fragrance, I burst into tears.
The flowers were so thoughtful, but they were also a tangible reminder of Sloane. I hadn’t heard from him in almost two weeks, and even though I’d been trying to put on a brave face, I finally allowed myself to admit, I was scared for him.