She sat down at the table and just took a moment.She closed her eyes and let everything relax.After a silent prayer, she picked up her fork and looked around.
Tasteful decorations adorned the space without excess.Traditional images covered the windows, and giant ornaments hung from the ceilings.A large tree stood in the corner, covered in handmade ornaments made by patients in the children’s wing.
The father in the Darth Vader sweater appeared in the dining area, holding his wife’s hand.She wore a sweater with a llama and a menorah that had the words, “Happy Lamannukah” on it.It made Olive chuckle.
The worry that had etched their faces hours ago had gone.Now they just looked tired.Olive suspected this Christmas/Hanukkah season would go down in the books, and the family would reference this near tragedy many times in the years ahead.
As she had done at every meal break for the last couple of weeks, she swiped on her phone and pulled up the photos of Jerry and her at the Christmas light festival.She stared at his smiling face, wishing he sat in front of her right now so she’d know he was okay.The idea that if something bad happened to him and she’d never even know it increased her stress.
She’d spent time reading through every text, every email, remembering every conversation.Every day, she felt her feelings for him growing deeper and deeper.
Had she occupied his thoughts the way he had occupied hers?Did the time apart make him realize they shouldn’t be together, or did it make a longing for her grow the same way she longed to see him again?
She swiped back to his face and enlarged the picture, studying his eyes, thinking back to the way his kiss felt, the way his arms had pulled her close.“Please God,” she whispered, praying for his safety and security.
After she finished her salad, opened the plastic wrap covering the cake.The first forkful yielded a velvety crumb, its tangy cream cheese frosting blooming sweet and cool on her tongue, erasing the bitterness of working with Grayson.
She washed the bite of cake down with a sip of coffee, the brew perfectly mingling with the flavors of the cake.With eyes closed, she savored the experience.
After finishing her meal, she still had fifteen minutes left of her break, so she pushed the tray away and leaned back in her chair, stretching her legs out.Her phone dinged and vibrated again.
Assuming it was her sister making some plan or another in the family chat, she almost didn’t check it in the midst of her melancholy mood.But, when she glanced at her phone, the name threw her.Jerry?Her heart skipped a beat.She sat up straight and quickly unlocked it.
Jerry: Be home for Christmas.See you soon.
She blinked, reading it twice.Her lips suddenly tingled, bringing back that kiss, his warm mouth, his strong shoulders.A grin spread on her face, silly and wide, chasing off the earlier shadows.
She typed back, fingers trembling with joy.
Olive: Can’t wait.Merry Christmas, soldier.
She whispered a silent, “Thank you,” to God, a short prayer filled with so much more than those two words.Thank you for keeping him safe.Thank you for bringing him home.Thank you for having me be on his contact list.
Campbell Army Airfield, Fort Campbell, KY
Soon after the wheels of the C-17 hit the tarmac, they began unloading their cargo.Everyone moved with practiced efficiency.Jerry swung his duffel bag over his shoulder and grabbed the handle of his rifle case that housed his beloved M110A1, and followed Fisher down the plane’s rear cargo ramp.The cold Kentucky night air greeted them, and Jerry took a deep breath, thankful for the safe return home.
The arms room NCO met them at the armory.“Merry Christmas, gentlemen,” he said, clicking on his laptop.“Any surprises?”
Major Norton set his weapon on the table in the center of the room.“Everything’s accounted for.We’ll be back next week to clean.Just get them racked and logged in, and you get back to Christmas evening with your family.”
“Yes, sir.Thank you, sir.”
Ibrahim, an 18F or Operations and Intelligence NCO, dropped his duffel on the ground outside the weapons locker and handed his M4 to the sergeant taking inventory while reciting the last four digits of the weapon’s serial number.He gave Norton a glance and offered, “I can stay.”
Norton looked at him as he accepted the weapon from the armory sergeant and confirmed the serial number.“You have a new baby and a pregnant wife, Honest Abe.Holidays aside, much as I appreciate the offer to take up the Christmas slack, go on home.”
Ibrahim rubbed his black beard and smiled with white teeth.“Yes, sir.”
Before he could turn, their Group Commander, Colonel Longstreet Beauregard Jenkins, callsign LBJ, came through the door.He wore jeans, winter boots, and a tan sweater.Jerry didn’t think he’d ever seen the Colonel out of uniform before.He almost hadn’t recognized him.“Welcome home, Coppertop,” he greeted Norton using his official callsign.“I read the brief you sent en route.Well done, men.The brass are mighty proud of you boys.”
Norton received a weapon and verified the serial number as he nodded toward the Colonel.“Yes, sir.No hitches.”
“Tough time of year to focus on mission.”
“Yes, sir.But liberty never takes a holiday.Neither do bad guys.”
Jenkins slapped Norton on the shoulder and turned to face the team.“Expect I won’t see a single one of you until January second.We’ll debrief then.Except you, Abe.Our state department counterparts will likely call you in for a little palaver here in the next few days to get your assessment, but we can roll the dice.”
