Chapter Fifty-Six
Sloane
Being able to use a cane made using a ride share a helluva lot easier. Although, it felt weird to sit in the back of a Hyundai Sonata, especially when we pulled onto the base, and I had to hand the guard my credentials from the rear passenger seat.
The man saluted me then waved us through, and my driver commented, “I thought you had to be in uniform to be saluted.”
“He saw my rank on my identification, so he still needs to salute an officer.”
I earned that salute, motherfucker.
“What would have happened if he didn’t?”
“Probably nothing today because I don’t have the energy to deal with that shit. But a Marine isn’t going to get away with disrespect very long before he’s taught a lesson the hard way.”
“That doesn’t sound fun.”
“It’s not.”
After instructing my driver where to drop me off, he said, “Have a nice day,” then drove away.
With a deep breath, I looked around. A group of recruits running by in step with a familiar cadence call made me smile. It’d been a while since I’d been on this base. In a lot of ways, it felt like I was coming home.
And I had a sneaky suspicion my higher ups were going to try to evict me. That was why I’d been called here.
Taking a step toward the door, I murmured out loud, “Only one way to find out.”
~~~~
“I’m not interested,” I told Lieutenant Colonel Chavez the second he mentioned a medical retirement.
“You don’t have to make any decisions until you’ve recovered further, obviously. But why don’t you meet with a personal financial management specialist and discuss what a medical retirement would look like.”
“I don’t care about the financial aspect. I can still be of service.”
“I have no doubt you can be. But you have plenty of options should you decide to retire. Or even if you want to try it temporarily, that’s a possibility.”
“I don’t want to try it.”
“Have you thought about the Recovery Coordination Program?”
“We talked about it when I was in San Antonio, then this opportunity with the Wounded Warrior Program opened up.”
“Maybe you should reconsider. It provides more assistance than just physical recovery.”
“I know, mind, body, spirit, and family.”
They’d given me the whole spiel. It was the family part that had made me decline in San Antonio.
Chavez gave me the commanding officer stare—a cross between concerned dad and annoyed drill sergeant. Mine had gotten pretty good, before the explosion.
“It’s another option for you.”
“I know. And just like a medical; I’m just not interested.”
His stare morphed into disappointment.
“Have you always been this stubborn?”
I couldn’t help but grin at him.
“I’ve actually mellowed in my old age.”
He shook his head, but he didn’t say anything more about it.
“We’ll talk again soon. I know Jackie in HR has some forms for you to sign since you’re back in San Diego. Bob in Financial Management has time to meet with you, if you want.”
“I’m good.”
As I signed the paperwork the personnel officer had for me, I contemplated what Lieutenant Colonel Chavez had said.
I have no doubt you can be of service.
He said the words but kept pushing retirement, so I wasn’t sure I believed he thought I did still have something to offer the Corps.
But when I had to sit my ass down and rest on the walk back, I thought, maybe Chavez is right .
I decided I wasn’t going down without a fight.
****
Ashley
Sloane was quiet as he helped me make dinner, and there’d been no groping attempts on his part. I found myself a little disappointed.
“Everything go okay at the base?”
“They offered me a medical retirement.”
“That’s great! That way you don’t have to stick it out another ten months just to reach your twenty.”
He turned to me with a frown. “I told you before, I’m not retiring until I’m fifty.”
“Sloane… you’re not seriously considering going back on active duty once you’ve recovered.”
“Yeah, I am.” His tone was defiant.
With a gentle voice, I reminded him, “You don’t have anything to prove.”
“I have something to offer.”
“You also have a child now.”
“Over ten percent of the Corps have children. I’m not special.”
I wanted to recapitulate that ten percent of Marines weren’t missing a limb as well as having an entire side of their body burned, but judging by his grouchy demeanor, he would have taken it the wrong way.
“Your daughter might beg to differ. I’m sure she’d appreciate you being around and not deployed.”
“She doesn’t need me. I can’t even feed her.”
His pity party rubbed me the wrong way.
“Is that what this is about? Millie won’t take a bottle, so you’re going to stay in the Marines another thirteen years to prove… what, exactly?”
He tossed the remaining cucumbers that he’d been cutting into the salad he was making and grabbed his cane.
“You know what? I’m not hungry.”
“Suit yourself.”
That’s what you’re best at.