Duty(74)

Aaron laughs and nods, rubbing my belly. “I can do that. What about you?”

“We'll figure that part out tomorrow. For now, I have my man, my children, and I'm in love. What else do I need?”





Epilogue





Aaron





“Five years. Hard to believe that you've been an officer for five years,” Pete says, toasting me with the half-sized can of beer that we've snuck into the parade stands. It was a lucky break when he found out that he was being posted to USMA as an instructor in the Department of Physical Education, and to be honest, he deserves it. With him being on leave before taking his position at the Academy and me on change of command leave, it was the perfect time for us to come down and visit my Alma Mater.

“Not quite five yet, Pete. Four years and ten months. Just seems longer,” I tell him, leaning back and resting my shoulders on the warm aluminum of the parade viewing stands. “So are you going to miss the regular uniform for a couple of years?”

“Me?” Pete asks, laughing. “Hell no. Although I do wish they'd have updated that ugly ass instructor's uniform. That gray polo shirt and those shorts straight from the f*cking seventies. I feel like my balls are hanging out the bottom when I try them on. Still, better than ACUs all the time.”

I nod, watching as first and second regiments go through their parade practice. Spring parade season is starting up soon, and the cadets are in the cool sunshine under arms, their rifles on their shoulders and their tar bucket hats all resting uncomfortably on their heads. “Hey, there go the Devils.”

“Yep. I wonder if we ever looked that young and intense,” Pete asks, and I wonder as well. A hundred faces, all with that mix of stress, hope, boredom, fear, and dedication that I suspect was on my face during my four years. I wonder how long it took for it to come off my face. “Jesus, so many of them look like they've got a stick up their ass.”

“Just remember that next year when you're teaching boxing,” I remind him. “Lesson one, pull the stick out of your ass.”

Pete laughs, nodding. “Yeah, that'll never happen. So . . . four years, ten months. Army's going to be looking for an answer pretty soon.”

I nod, humming. “They will be. Actually, my battalion commander's asking for an answer when I get back to Drum.”

Pete raises an eyebrow, then chuckles. “I guess being high speed like you and having that Silver Star in your record gives you a little bit of leeway. My battalion commander wanted my damn answer with six months left on my five. Of course, I'm MP, not Infantry. Infantry always needs good officers.”

“So why'd you stay?” I ask Pete, curious. It wasn't the only reason I came down here, but I have wanted to ask him this for a while. “I mean, your wife and kids have to hate your time away from home as much as mine.”

“I don't know. I guess the Army is just where I fit in. Dana doesn't quite understand, but she's willing to put up with it. Lindsey at least understands the uniform firsthand,” Pete reminds me. “Where is she, anyway, and how's she doing?”

“You can ask her tonight. She already insisted that we take you and your family out for dinner. Tonight or tomorrow, your pick. But she's doing well. She's a GS-9 now, and last year, she cleared more on taxes than I did. Colonel Kierney hooked her up with the right people. As for where she is, she's taking Lance and Cassie around a little, showing them some of her old stomping grounds before they . . . there they are now,” I say, pointing across the parade ground, where I see them near the MacArthur monument. “You wanna say hi now?”

“I'll save the catch up for tonight. I'll talk with Dana and give you a call. Nothing big though, man. I know you. You're going to insist on paying, so I'm calling it now, King's Garden delivery,” Pete says, offering his hand. “I'm gonna go find Dana, and we can hook it up later.”

We shake and get up, walking down the bleachers to the grass, splitting at the bottom. It's hard as I walk across the grass around the edge of the ground not to fall into the old marching steps punctuated by the big bass drum that the Corps uses to measure out the parade beat, the familiar 'boom . . . boom . . . boom-boom-boom . . .' that was a big part of my life for four years.

I come around, and Lindsey sees me, waving. I wave back, giving my wife a hug while Lance looks at the words inscribed around the monument. “How's Pete?”

“Good. He said he's going to talk with Dana, but that dinner has to be cheap. How was your walk?”

Lindsey gives me a wry look and shakes her head. “Strange. I feel like it all happened a lifetime ago, but then again, just yesterday. Part of me wanted to see if we could borrow a couple of bikes from Arvin and the two of us head out to Buckner.”

I laugh, giving her a little kiss. “You would, too. Lots of good memories for us out there.”

Lindsey purrs and squeezes me tighter, her eyes full of meaning. I put my lips right next to her ear and hum softly, hugging her tight. “You really ready to try for number three now?”

“Maybe,” she whispers back. “Or maybe I just love my husband.”

I squeeze her tighter, then let go, smiling. “Well, keep that in mind, because if we keep going, fourth regiment behind me is going to get a show that is totally not in the rule book.”