Soldier On (23 page)

“You’re freezing. We should go inside before you catch pneumonia.”

She nods, and the two of us walk back toward the house with my dumb, wet beagle right by our side.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Brandon

“Lily, I think he’s dead.”

“He’s not dead, Lucy. He’s asleep.”

“You don’t know, he
could
be dead.”

I try not to laugh. I’d hate to spoil the fun they’re having. Instead, I fake a snore, causing my nieces to explode with giggles.

“See, Lucy! Told ya he wasn’t dead.
And
he’s smiling. Dead people don’t smile.”

My eyes snap open, making them both squeal with laughter. In a flash, I wrap my arms around them and throw the blanket over our heads. I’m instantly bombarded with hugs and kisses from the cutest five year olds on the planet.

“Don’t tickle us, Uncle B!”

Which of course is a request for tickles, so I do. When they’re finally breathless and tired, I kiss each of their cheeks and snuggle them close. Glancing at my watch, I notice it’s nearly eight.

I haven’t slept this late in years. Feels good.

“You two are up awfully early.”

“Mom calls it the butt-crack of dawn,” Lily says. “We don’t know what that means.”

Lucy makes a face. “But it sounds gross.”

I laugh. “Yeah, it does. Is your mom awake?”

Lucy nods. “She told us to come wake you up. She’s making bacon.”

“And eggs,” Lily says.

“Sounds delicious. Can I take a shower first?”

They both nod.

“Mom says your girlfriend is here.”

“That’s right. Her name is Steph.”

“Step?”

“
Steph
. With an F sound on the end.”

They practice saying it a couple times. It’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen and makes me love them so much more. It also explains why they still call me Uncle B.
Brandon
was just too impossible for them to pronounce when they were toddlers.

Lily beams brightly. “Let’s go wake her up, too!”

The twins are off the bed and out the door before I can even blink.

“Girls, wait!”

I rush next door, only to find Steph’s door wide open and my two nieces on each side of her bed, looking at her with wide eyes.

“She’s so pretty,” Lily whispers to her sister.

“Just like a princess.”

It’s the first time I’ve ever watched her sleep. Steph’s facial features are relaxed, and the worry lines that tend to always live on her forehead are all but gone.

Beautiful.

Steph must sense she’s being watched, because her eyes snap open.

Lucy walks toward the bed. “Hi, Step.”

“It’s not
Step
,” Lily says as she moves closer, too. “It’s
Steph
. F sound. ‘Member?”

“Wow.” Steph sits up in bed and watches as my two very friendly nieces climb up on each side of her. “Good morning, girls. I thought I had double vision there for a second.”

The twins giggle.

“I think ‘Double Vision’ was Foreigner, right? 1980?”

“1978.”

I smirk and sit down at the bottom of the bed while Steph turns her attention to the girls who are snuggled very close to her side.

“I don’t think your uncle told me that you were twins. He
definitely
didn’t tell me you were identical twins.”

Oops.

“How can I tell you apart?” Steph asks.

“I’m Lily, and I have this.” She points to the mole on her chin.

“And I’m Lucy, and I don’t.”

Steph nods. “Well, that’s very helpful. I’ll just look for the mole. Thank you.”

It’s the first time I’ve seen Steph interact with kids. The girls bombard her with questions, and she answers them all with a quiet patience that’s really amazing to see. Not that I doubted it before, but she’s going to make a great teacher. It’s just too bad she’ll have to deal with middle school or high school students instead of sweet little girls like my nieces.

“Girls, we should let Steph get dressed, and I need to shower. Will you go tell your mom we’ll be down in a few minutes?”

“Okay!” They yell in unison before kissing each of Steph’s cheeks. I’m kissed next, and as they run out of the room, they’re arguing about who gets to sit next to Steph.

“They love you already.”

Steph smiles sleepily. “They’re sweet girls.”

I crawl up the bed. Steph laughs and lies back against the pillow. I hover above her, just barely brushing her chest to mine. Dipping my head, I kiss her gently.

“Good morning.”

“Good morning,” she says.

“How’d you sleep?”

“Okay. It took me a while to get there. Strange house. New bed.”

“You could have come to my room.”

“Then we both would have been awake.”

“That really wouldn’t have bothered me at all.”

She grins, and I can’t resist kissing her again. And again. Until finally, she whispers my name against my lips.

“Your family is waiting for us,” she says softly.

I groan and kiss her one last time before climbing out of bed. I’m nearly to the door when she calls my name.

“I hate to admit it, but those pajamas are pretty sexy.”

I slept in an Army T-shirt and camo pants.

“Hmm. There might be hope for you yet.”

“Maybe.”

I give her a wink before heading back to my room.

Breakfast is madness, but that’s not unusual at our house. Christian’s cooked a big breakfast, and the girls are excited to be sitting on each side of Steph. My dad, full of energy this morning, is telling us a story he’s told a million times about night fishing in a Vietnamese river during his second tour. It amazes me how he can vividly recall an event from forty years ago but can’t tell me what we had dinner for last night.

He really can’t. I already asked.

We’ve learned not to point out when Dad’s memory gets spotty because it agitates him, and his agitation scares the girls. We’ve been lucky so far this morning. Christian and I were both thrilled when he recognized Steph and actually called her by name. His good mood and healthy appetite has seemed to relax my sister, and she’s actually asked Steph some questions about growing up in Indiana.

Without a doubt, breakfast has been a thousand times more enjoyable than last night’s dinner.

“Stephanie, tell us about your parents,” Dad says.

Christian’s fork clatters against her plate.

“Sorry,” she mutters.

I watch as Steph takes a deep breath.

“My mom lives in a little town just outside of Indianapolis. She’s the secretary at my old elementary school.”

“And your dad?”

Steph glances at the girls. I know she’s wondering how much she can say.

My sister clears her throat. “Girls, let’s go pick out a movie to watch with Steph.”

I smile gratefully at my sister as the three of them head into the living room. Once they’re gone, Steph turns toward my dad.

“My dad was killed by friendly fire in Desert Storm,” she says.

I can tell by the expression on his face it’s the last thing he expected to hear.

“I’m sorry to hear that, Steph.”

“Thank you.”

“Which branch?”

“Army.”

Suddenly, his expression darkens, and I stiffen for the inevitable outburst.

“What’s wrong, Dad?”

“I’m just . . . trying to do the math.”

Steph switches chairs so that she can sit beside him. “I understand. I hate math, too. What are you trying to figure out?”

“Well, if you’re Brandon’s age . . . did you even know your father?”

“No, he was killed before I was born.”

“Oh.”

Dad’s face relaxes. So does every muscle in my body.

Steph reaches into her shirt and pulls out her dad’s dog tags. She lifts it over her head and hands the chain to my father. He slowly reads the inscription.

“Ah, he was just a kid. That must have been hard on you . . . growing up without him.”

“Yes, it was.”

Dad gazes thoughtfully at her. “I could sit here and tell you that you should be honored your father died serving his country, but I bet you’ve heard that a lot. And I bet you hate hearing it.”

Steph glances at me, probably looking for a clue as to how to answer him. I just shrug, because I’m clueless. I mean, the morning’s going so well. She might as well just be honest.

“It’s sometimes hard to hear, yeah.”

Suddenly, the girls rush back into the kitchen, each of them grabbing Steph by the hand.

“Come on,” Lily says. “The movie’s starting without you.”

Steph smiles apologetically at Dad, making him laugh as he hands the tags back to her.

“Go on,” he says. “We’ll talk later.”

“You’re sitting by me,” Lucy says as the three of them head into the living room.

Dad and I both chuckle as they go.

“I like her, Brandon.”

“Thank you. I like her, too.”

“Smart, too. I don’t know how serious you are, but she must be pretty important to you if you’ve brought her home.”

“She’s very important to me.”

He nods and reaches for another piece of toast. “I figured as much. Have you two had a discussion about what the next four years are going to be like for you?”

“She has a vague understanding, yeah.”

“And how does she feel about it?”

“She’s . . . not thrilled, to be honest.”

“Well, of course she’s not. Everything she knows about the military begins and ends with the death of her father. It’s a wonder she’s dating you at all.”

No kidding.
I don’t dare tell him that Steph and I are in a weird limbo stage. That would just confuse him, especially since I can barely explain it myself.

“Brandon, I wasn’t a good husband to your mom. But you know that.”

“Dad, we aren’t really talking marriage just yet. I’m focused on graduation and AIT. It’s far, far too early for us to be talking about wedding vows.”

“Maybe, but it’s something you should think about. Soldiers sometimes don’t make the best spouses. Especially ones who would rather sign up for another tour of duty than come home to a wife who’s just chomping at the bit to start a family.”

His mental clarity this morning is really starting to scare me.

“Dad, I’m committed to the military. Just like you always wanted.”

“Just like I always wanted,” he says quietly. “But is it what
you
want?”

It feels like a trap, so I give him my standard response.