Total pages in book: 22
Estimated words: 21092 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 105(@200wpm)___ 84(@250wpm)___ 70(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 21092 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 105(@200wpm)___ 84(@250wpm)___ 70(@300wpm)
I know all of the reasons that I should stay, but it’s time for me to go home.
I fidget in the seat as I sit outside the troop commander’s office.
I requested this meeting, and he’s put me off and put me off, so now I’m sitting here waiting for him to come out. He can’t avoid me forever.
One way or another, I’m leaving, and I prefer to do it with approval instead of just going AWOL.
I stand up and move to the window and stare out at the base. As I cross my arms over my chest, I let my mind wander, and like always, the first thing I think about is Jane.
My wife.
She’s my wife in name only. On paper, we’re truly married. According to the Navy, our marriage is 100 percent legit. But in all the ways that count, we’re not really husband and wife.
For the last seven years, I’ve kept my distance even though it’s the last thing I wanted to do. I tried going home once, but after only one night with her in the cozy home she had created, I knew she was too tempting and I wouldn’t be able to keep my distance from her. So after that, I made a point to stay busy. I went on every deployment I could, spent my free time alone, and did my best to stop thinking of her.
And even though I was successful in staying away from her and my home in Whiskey Run, I couldn’t refuse her when she made a point to call me every week or when she sent me care packages filled with homemade cookies, brownies, and letters that smelled like lilacs and reminded me of her.
No matter how much time I spent on the battlefield or on missions, doing my best to think of anything but her, all I could do is think about Jane. I’ve convinced myself that I’m past my prime and I need to retire, but deep down, I know it’s because I want to go home to my wife.
The sound of the office door opening jars me from my thoughts, and I turn on my heel. The troop commander takes one look at me and shakes his head. He knows why I’m here, and he’s not happy about it.
“Okay, Southpaw. Come on in. Have a seat.”
I let out a sigh of relief when he calls me by my nickname. He has to be softening to my request if he calls me anything but my last name. I pull my shoulders back and walk into the troop commander’s office. He moves a little slower and drops heavily into his chair behind his desk.
“Did you want to talk about something?”
I spurt out a laugh and then catch myself. “Commander, I think you know what I want to talk about. I submitted all the paperwork for my retirement almost six months ago. The date I requested was two months ago, and I want to check on the paperwork because I’ve heard nothing back.”
He stares at me, and I shrug my shoulders. “Did I miss a signature line? Maybe I missed a paper or something? I thought I turned it all in, but if I missed something, can you let me know?”
He holds his hands together on the top of the desk. “You know Warren is teaching now. Have you considered doing that?”
I know who he’s talking about. Warren is a buddy of mine, so I know his story, and the fact is, Warren is happy teaching because his fiancée is here. “I’m not teaching.” I take a deep breath and tell him, “I want out.”
His jaw tightens. “So you want to go through with it?”
His eyes are boring into me, and I stare back at him without blinking. I don’t even hesitate. “Yeah, I want to go through with it.”
“But—” he starts, and I nod my head.
“I know. Trust me, I know whatever you’re about to tell me or warn me about. I want to do this. It’s time for me to go home.”
He purses his lips together and gives one big nod with an exhale of breath. “Okay. We hoped you’d change your mind, but obviously that’s not going to be the case.” He pulls a folder from the top drawer of his desk and opens it. He wraps his hand around the big stamp and pounds it on the signed paperwork. “Approved. It’s done. You can go home.”
For just a second, I’m filled with fear. “I can go home… now?”
For twenty years, I’ve served, and even though this is what I want, I’m not going to act like the idea of leaving this life doesn’t leave me a little overwhelmed.
The troop commander nods. “Yep, I should have signed it a few months ago, but I was hoping you were going to change your mind. You are one of the best designated marksmen I’ve ever worked with, Southpaw… We’re going to miss you around here.”