Oh, for goodness’ sake. Everyone is a fucking comedian around here.
“Commander. This is serious.”
She snorts out a wild laugh and catches herself. With her hand clutching her stomach, she holds the rest of her outburst in. “I’m sorry, Cade. I will handle Hayes’ rash. What’s the other issue?”
Thank you.
“I need more manpower.”
She mulls over my problem for a second, her finger to her mouth, reminding me of Theo. She isn’t biting her nail but it’s close. I wonder if she even realizes she’s doing it.
“What about Lawson,” she wonders, slipping her hand down when she realizes it was in her mouth. “Do you think he’s ready?”
I’m not sure how to answer her. Lawson is stable. I don’t know what his deal is yet, as we haven’t been able to gain his trust enough for him to tell us. Taking him out on an unsupervised outing is risky. Usually, we’re positive about the mental state of the guys before we introduce them into a social situation. Having Lawson in someone’s home could be bad if it goes wrong. But I need another guy…
“I’m not sure,” I return honestly. Lawson could be crazier than shit but I won’t know until I see him in action.
Anniston sighs. “I could ask Theo.”
I’m shaking my head before she can get his name out fully. “That’s okay, we can manage.”
She chuckles and clasps my shoulder. “Take Lawson with you. I’m sure he’ll be fine. But call me if you have any problems.”
I nod, a knot forming in my stomach. “Okay.”
“Good. Tim’s been in the truck for the past half hour. Go, before he dies out there in the heat.” She places a sweet kiss on my cheek and heads for the stairs, taking two at a time before she shouts, “Connor Hayes! Let me look at your balls!”
Finally, I breakdown and laugh. This is my crazy life and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Sweat drips down my back as I hammer the last nail into the new wheelchair ramp for Doug, our fellow Marine. The community here is tight, all the neighbors are out on their porches or here, helping us. We’re almost finished; we only lack a ramp on the back deck. I’m not sure we’ll finish today but it’s enough that he can come home to be with his family.
“Major, do you want me to start cleaning up?” Mason is drenched, his shirt coming off hours ago in this ninety-five-degree weather.
He and the guys have drawn quite the fans. They’ve not had to ask twice for a glass of water, that’s for sure. Women came out of the woodwork to offer up beverages, amongst other things. Other things that put a smile on these guys’ faces all fucking day.
They now want to volunteer all the time. Figures. It’s not like I didn’t get the welcome committee, I did. I shut it down before any of my admirers could bat an eyelash. I’m not looking for a quick fuck or a girlfriend, so they were just wasting my time and theirs.
I take a look around before answering Mason. Most of the volunteers are taking a break or packing in their things, heading home for the evening.
“Yeah, go ahead and start rounding up the guys. I’ll let the foreman know.”
With a nod, Mason jogs off to the others. I gather my tools and head around the back of the house where tents are set up. The foreman is a local contractor who initialized this project and managed to get everything donated for the family.
If you had told me six months ago that civilians cared about their military, I would’ve laughed in your face and called you a liar, but now, after seeing this community come together for a fallen brother… I am a believer that there is good in this world.
Meeting Anniston was my first proof of that, but I didn’t know more existed. I thought she was the only one. An angel sent just for me…
I round the corner, scanning for someone to ask where I can drop these tools.
“Thanks for volunteering, Major Jameson.” Randy, the foreman, peeks out from behind the water cooler. “We really appreciate you and your men offering assistance. We wouldn’t have been able to do it without you.”
“No problem. We’re honored to do it.”
He moves around from the cooler, chugging his water. I envisioned Randy as a big, bearded man—something like a lumberjack. So this hundred-fifty-pound gentleman really threw me when I met him this morning. He has to be in his late sixties. I thought for sure he would stroll through, bark orders and then leave. But nope, he barked orders, picked up a hammer and put my guys and me to shame in the work he cranked out.
“I wanted to tell you we are headed home for the day but will be happy to return tomorrow, should you need us.”
“Absolutely. Six a.m.?”
