Chapter 1

I was getting a little nervous, the closer I got to my parents house. Oh, I knew I was welcome there, but I had not told my parents about my getting wounded, and the resultant medical disability I'd had to accept. After fifteen years in the Army, I was medically retired due to a wound I had received a few months ago.

My left shoulder and the joint were still damaged, though the military hospital had almost totally rebuilt the joint. Still, the original wound had been serious. As a result, I had lost some muscle as well as part of my shoulder joint.

I grimaced in pain as the cab hit a pot hole. 'Good old' Denver streets. The winter was doing what it always did to them, and damned if this cabbie didn't seem able to find each and every one of the pot holes. Either way, my left shoulder was hurting something fierce.

Finally the cab pulled up in the circle in front of my parents' house. I paid him off, and he took my bag out of the trunk. One duffle bag, and a suitcase with my civilian clothes were all I had to show for fifteen years in the military. The military, particularly the special forces, did not encourage single people to collect a lot of junk.

I went to the front door, and rang the bell. No answer. I took out my keys. I unlocked the front door and entered the house. While it was not the house I had grown up in, I had visited often enough to be familiar with the layout.

There was a room upstairs that was mine for when I visited... first door to the left. My sister had one across the hall from mine. My parents' room was at the end of the hall. They had the 'en suite' bath, as well. Each bedroom connected to a bathroom, but nothing as grand as my parents bath.

My father was an investment broker, and my mother was an interior decorator. Both were successful at what they did. Hell, I had turned a lot of my money over to my dad for investing. He was that good.

One thing my dad had pounded into my head when I was growing up, was to save, save, save. I was in the perfect place to save, as far as I was concerned. As a single man in the army, I received free room and board. I could and did save most of my pay.

After I made E-7 or sergeant first class, I was moved from the barracks, to apartment style billets for senior enlisted. I was already missing the military. I had planned for a life long career with the service, and had been well on my way, until I had received this wound.

I looked at the clock in the hall downstairs, after putting my bags up in my room. It was 1:45 PM, and my little sister would be getting home from school in a little over an hour. She was in the local high school. I smiled with fond memories as I thought of her.

She had been born shortly after I had enlisted in the army. I had been 18 and did not want another four years of school, in the form of college. She had been a cute little baby. I had made it home often enough for her to form an attachment to me. Hell, she adored her big brother, as I adored her.

For that matter, she had been a cute little girl, too. She was going to be a knock out. As the guys in the units I had been stationed with would say, "She's built like a brick shit-house!"

I made my way to the kitchen, and got a glass of water. I took the two painkillers I had brought downstairs with me. I hated taking pills to begin with, but my shoulder was really acting up. I set the glass near the sink, and made my way to the living room. I turned on the TV, which is where I fell asleep.

"Steve!" I heard a shriek.

I snapped my eyes open, and was just in time to intercept my little sister from throwing herself on me. I noticed a dark haired girl in the doorway. She was watching interestedly, but my mind classified her as non threatening. What I had to watch out for, was my sister.

"Hey, Christine? Look, can I ask you something? I hurt my left shoulder and if you hug me too tight, it will hurt like hell," I told her gently, still holding her off at arms length with my right arm.

She stopped struggling to reach me as I spoke. Her face took on a concerned look.

"Oh. I'm sorry. I don't want to hurt you. What happened?" she asked me with a fifteen year old's curiosity.

"Well, I don't want to repeat everything, so can you wait till mom and dad are here? I'll tell everyone at once?" I asked reasonably.

I stood and put my right arm around her, and she carefully put her arms around my waist and hugged me back. She introduced me to her friend, Melissa. Shortly, the two of them were sitting on the couch, while my sister asked me how long I was staying.

"That's classified information, Christine. If I told you that, I would have to kill you," I said her with a serious look.

"That's just stupid. Come on! Are you on leave? A pass? At least tell me if you will be here for my birthday next week?" she queried me breathlessly.

"Birthday? Is someone having a birthday?" I asked as if I had forgotten.

Christine rolled her eyes at me.

"Jeez, Steve. You pull that crap every time it's my birthday. I'm not twelve anymore, you know. Give me a break," she said rolling her eyes again.

I laughed, and ruffled her hair. The guys were right. She was growing up, and was already a heart breaker. She smoothed out her hair, and I caught Melissa grinning at us. Both girls were very pretty. My sister had honey blond hair, blue eyes and elfin features. Her friend Melissa was a dark haired beauty. Both must have boys sniffling around them, constantly. I felt a pang of jealousy and an overwhelming sense of protectiveness go through me.

I spent a while catching up with Christine, and what had been happening back here. I carefully kept to myself what had happened to me. When I told the family a bit of it later, there was going to be worry, and maybe a bit of hell to pay.

Mom was the first one home, and her welcome was a happy one. Dad followed her by about forty minutes

"Ok, now that Mom and Dad are home, can you say how you hurt your shoulder, now?" Christine asked me.

"Why don't we wait till after supper? I am still playing catch up here, you know," I answered firmly.

"Chrissy, you hush up and leave your brother alone. He'll tell us what he can, when he gets around to it," my mom told my little sister firmly.

"Melissa, are you staying for dinner?" my dad asked her.

"No, Mr. Anderson. My parents are expecting me home for supper, so I have to leave. Nice meeting you, Steve," Melissa said and left.

I relaxed and was happy to be home. Dad sat with me, and Mom went into the kitchen to make supper. Christine was banished to her room to do her homework, so Dad and I caught up.

"Your portfolio is doing well, Steve. I was just about to send you the quarterly report on it. If you give me till tomorrow, when I get to work I can look up the figures. However, I do know you are almost at the three hundred thousand dollar mark, in your investments! Congratulations. I told you turning over profits and putting them back into the investment fund would stand you in good stead. Plus, it defers the taxes," my dad told me.

I nodded. I always paid attention to what Dad said when it came to money. While there were better or maybe luckier brokers, Dad was a solid investor. His investments always made money... Always!

We also talked about local noteworthy items of interest... the news, politics and family. I caught up on the doings of my aunts, uncles and cousins. One of my cousins was in prison after having been caught breaking into a pharmacy. Apparently he had gotten hooked on drugs. I sighed when I heard that. I had always liked him best, as he was the closest to my age.

Dinner that evening was pot roast, mashed potatoes, gravy, and corn. Peach cobbler was the dessert. No one made peach cobbler like my mother. I sat back and unbuckled my belt.

"Mom, I can already see you are a danger to me. If I stay too long, I will start looking like Santa Claus!" I exclaimed with a laugh.

"Well, you look like you could use a few pounds, here or there. You're absolutely skinny," mom responded.

I had lost some weight after my injury, and was still slowly gaining it back.

"Well, I have been putting off for as long as I could the particulars of my injury. Guess now is the best time to get it said. All I ask, is that no one repeat what I am about to say, to anyone.

"I was shot during a withdrawal from a country that shall remain nameless. All I can actually say, is that we had completed the mission. We were leaving for the extraction point.

"I got hit by a very powerful rifle bullet, in the back of my left shoulder. I had to have surgery to repair the joint. I lost some muscle, and I still don't have full mobility. The doctors say it is doubtful I will regain very much more mobility in my left shoulder.

"I am going to be doing intensive therapy at the local VA hospital for my shoulder and arm. Also, I have been given a medical discharge from service. I am now out of the army," I finished, with a sigh.

Mom had tears in her eyes, and Christine's eyes were huge. Dad looked sorrowful. I was quick to add that I was alive and getting better. I didn't want them feeling sorry for me.

"Eight months," I said, muttering to myself.

That was how long I had been going to the VA for therapy. While there had been some improvement in the mobility of my left shoulder, it was not enough to override the medical disability I had received from the army doctors. I would not be rejoining the military after all.