Chapter 22

"Somebody you know?" Jo asked. "I saw the 'USA Retired'."

"My platoon sergeant in Iraq," I said. "Good guy."

"I'll let you read it, baby," she said. She started to turn away.

"Where are you going?"

"Was giving you some room. Privacy."

"I don't need privacy. I need Johanna. This is just part of the past. He's a good guy. Wonder what he's got to say." I opened the envelope. A single printed page was inside.

I read:

Dear Lieutenant Jackson-

I haven't heard from you for years. I talked with some guys from the battalion a while back at one of those off-post bars. You know I retired next to Fort Leonard Wood. I'm double-dipping now. I ran into one of the company commanders. He's a light colonel now. We got to talking and your name came up. He told me that he thought you ended up in Texas, so I started looking.

The Internet is a wonderful thing. I was able to find out where you live. I am going to visit my brother down in Texas in a week or so. If you're interested, I would count myself privileged if I could sit down and talk about the old days.

I also see from what I can find that you're doing well, working. That's good.

I understand if you can't find time for us to meet. Life has a way of intruding. But I would really like to offer. My phone number is xxx-xxx-xxxx. That's a cellphone, of course. If you call me any time before 2200 or after 0600, I'll answer.

Hoping the best for you, Lieutenant Stonewall.

Harland P. Graves

Ex-platoon sergeant

Trainer of engineer lieutenants

"What do you think?" I asked.

"I think you probably want to meet 'im, drink a beer or two. Talk about old times." She pushed me back onto the sofa, knelt beside me. "Platoon sergeant? He's probably Dad's age, then."

"Yeah, pretty much," I said. He was three years from having twenty in when we deployed."

"Thought so. Go ahead. Call 'im. You can go do that."

"Suppose I want you go go with me?"

"Suppose I think I'd do anything you want, but you might be better without little wifey to put a damper on things. Dad was an officer and I heard him say that they were a little more restrained than some of the enlisted men. I don't want to get in the way of you having a good time, letting loose, all that."

"I never was the 'letting loose' type, baby. And I've spent many a long day and night in the presence of Sergeant Graves and he never appeared to be the 'letting loose' type, either."

"Call 'im," Jo said. "It's still early enough."

"You sure?"

Kiss. "I'm sure."

I punched up the number on my iPhone. It rang. Male voice that I could recognize while I was sound asleep in the dark in the middle of a dust storm.

"Sergeant Graves, I presume?"

"ELL-TEE Stonewall! How the hell are you?!?"

"Just greasing the wheels of industry, Sarge," I said. "Yourself?"

"I am fulfilling my life's dream. I'm a civilian instructor in Engineering School. Still tryin' to keep young lieutenants out of trouble." He still had that laugh in his voice. I know that during our service together he'd had to pull deep from within to keep a good attitude. Second lieutenants, even well-meaning ones, can pull some bone-headed stuff.

"So when are you coming down to Texas?"

"Actually, me an' the missus are going to hit town Friday. We're supposed to be in some god-forsaken pimple on the ass of Texas to meet my brother and his bunch Saturday afternoon. The way I see it, that gives us a Friday evening for a civilized meal and a little social time."

"Your missus?"

"Yep. Gracie's still hanging on after thirty years. I've seared her sense of taste."

"I have one of my own now. You bring yours, I'll bring mine."

"Gracie says she remembers you. That's pretty good. I almost don't. How long you been married?"

"A whole week," I said.

"No shit! And you called me from your honeymoon, or what?"

"She's in college and I'm working and the honeymoon's a plan for the future when we both have time. So, wives?"

"Gracie will love it."

I caught a glance at Jo. We were sharing the phone between us. She was smiling. "Okay, then. What're you doing, renting a car when you get here?"

"You got it, Ell Tee. Tell you what. I'm saving this number. We'll call you when we get off the plane."

"Did you ever evolve past the Stone Age, Sarge?" I asked. In the army, he was notoriously computerphobic.

"OH, yeah. I'm emailing and Facebooking and all that crap."

"Gimme an email address. I'll send you my address and stuff."

"Okay. I'll just text it to you."

"Gotcha. You ARE evolved."

"Alrighty," he said. "Ell-Tee. Stoney. I'm looking forward to seeing you again."

"Me too, Sarge. Great hearing from you."

"Bye!" Click.

I looked at Jo. "I met his wife. She was mothering a bunch of the young enlisted guys' wives during the deployment. She's good people, too."

"He sounds okay," Jo said.

"He is. And we can put up with a lot for one night." A buzz told me that I'd gotten a text. I looked. Same number. I opened the text and routed it to my email address.

"Honey," she said. "You put up with the idea of playing your banjo in front of my orchestra..."

"Oh, crap! I forgot about that."

"Don't go blocking things out, Stoney. You and I, we make music together."

"Yes we do. And if Bob says it's good enough that he'll stand in close proximity to my playing, then I'm apt to believe him. After all, I think highly of one of his students."

"Oh, flattery'll get you ... me! Let's go shower..."

An hour later, we were drifting along in the afterglow. "So what did you think of Key's idea for the production?"

"Key has a way with stereotypes," I said.

"Key's been busting me on stereotypes ever since I've known her," Jo said. "She's funny."

"Yes she is," I said. "But did she consider that a lot of people who populate the audience of classical concerts are notoriously humorless? Because laughter is for the vast unwashed? The slime from which they themselves have emerged?"

"Oh, you have this cynical streak, Mister Jackson. Even after reducing your partner to a quivering, squealing mess."

I pulled her against me for a kiss.

"You're draining my cynicism," I said.

She wiggled. "I definitely drained something."

"What lewd talk from such an angelic young girl," I said.

"Hardly lewd, sir. Quite factual. Now turn this way just a little. My head is supposed to be resting right here." 'Right here' was on my chest, and she's right. It's a good place to rest. She found a good place for her hand to rest, too.

The alarm the next morning. Another day. Life goes on. Friday afternoon. My phone rings. I look at the display. Harland.

"Yeah, Sarge," I said.

"We're on the ground. I figure an hour before we're on the road. Gonna go check into the hotel and then head your way."

"Keep me posted," I said. "I'm trying to keep the lights on in Guatemala."

"Okay, El-tee. I wanna hear about that. See you in a bit."

Twenty minutes later the phone rings. Well, if you call Johanna's flute passage a 'ring'. "Out of class, baby," she said.

"I'll be out of here at four-thirty," I replied. "Call you then, baby."

"Have you heard from our visitors?"

"Oh, yeah. They're here in town. Going to their hotel first."

"Gives me time to straighten up the house."

Yeah ... the house is such a mess. I'm starting to see bits of Jo's feminine touch showing up there. Potpourri for a fresh smell. A spray of flowers from a nearby roadside vendor. The curtains over the kitchen window actually pulled back the way they're supposed to be. I mean, I was neat and clean, just not as aesthetically motivated as Jo. Coming home a couple of days a week to a meal I didn't cook myself was nice, too.

"You don't have to cook, baby," I told her the first time it happened.

"Go on, Stoney. It's not like I slaved over a hot stove all day. That's a broiled fish filet and vegetable and some simple pilaf. Don't you like us sitting here in our house sharing a quiet meal sometimes?"

"Yes, I do, dearest," I said. "But I didn't marry you so you'd keep house for me."

The corners of those blue eyes collected tiny lines as she smiled. "Oh, I know ALL the reasons you married me, buddy. Thought I'd toss this in as a perk."

—

"Okay, princess," I said. "I'll be there as soon as I can. I love you."

"Love you too, bud! Bye!"

"I love you," came Brad's voice in falsetto.

"Jealousy cheapens our friendship," I said.

He laughed. "And your dedication level has diminished, too."

"As long as I can meet your high standard."

"I'll cut you some slack, being a newlywed and all that," he laughed.

We went back to work. At four-fifteen I shut my work-station down and started cleaning up my space.

"What's your plans for the weekend?" Brad asked, sticking his head in the door.

"Meeting an old army buddy and his wife for dinner. Probably do the boat tomorrow. You?"

"Kids to the zoo. Weather's cool enough for it to be fun again."

"I heard that," I said. Summer was hot and miserably humid here. "I hope you have fun."

"Oh, I'm sure I will," Brad said. Brad's the proverbial 'good dad', married to the mother of his children, all Little League and dance recitals, parks and zoos and museums. I knew this and I knew Brad's dry wit and how he always sounded so put upon over having a schedule filled with wife and kids. "If you're around Sunday afternoon, why don't you and your wife come over for dinner? Heather can try a recipe out on you."

"Let me get back with you when I talk to Jo, but it sounds good."

"I'll tell'er to get a chunk of meat this evening. If you don't show up, we'll have leftovers. Not that that's a bad thing." He grinned, patting his belly.

I'd eaten at Brad and Heather's. Her cooking left no reason for disappointment.

I retrieved my USB drive from my workstation. That's all my working files. Not only are they on the company server, but I have copies on the workstation hard drive and this little USB stick. A fire two years ago in the server room wiped out a lot of work. Mine wasn't part of it. Little building blocks of work and life, that's what that drive was, just another little block. I hurried out the door with the Friday crowd. I had a life that included another person.

I sat in my car, buckled the seatbelt, stuck my Bluetooth earpiece in and said, "Call Johanna."

"Calling Johanna mobile," Siri answered.

Two rings. "Hi, baby!"

"Hi, cutie," I said. "I'm oozing out of the parking garage right now."

"Good! Can't wait!"

"Me neither." Inside I was running the possibilities, though. I hadn't seen Harland Graves since that bad day. I had the one letter from him, a few emails while I was in the hospital. Now he was back, like a pipeline back to that day. Things were getting better since Jo was with me. Yes, I still had episodes, three in the last week, but instead of just letting them control me, getting up, staying awake, a soft hand, soft words, and I have been able to back down from the images in my mind. I was hoping that seeing and talking with Harland, Sergeant Graves, wasn't going to start those back the way that they were, pre-Johanna.

That was MY problem, though. Sergeant Harland Graves was a consummate soldier, taking time to keep this young lieutenant between the lines while I learned my trade. His offer of friendship and social interaction was rightly to be met by my best side. Sometimes it's not supposed to be about me.