Page 22 of All of You

He shook his head, totally pleased with himself. “No, I didn’t. You assumed.”

“So why all B names?”

“I’m not sure there’s a reason other than they got started with Bridgette and kept it going. My dad’s name is Paul, so… there’s really no logic behind it. We all have M middle names, too.”

“Really? So all the same initials. That seems annoying.”

He was so open about his family. It made me want to tell him about mine, except the few people who knew anything about them likely pitied me—not something I wanted. I’d give him the shortest summary possible at some point and leave out the rest.

“I never knew any different,” he said simply.

“So what are the names?”

“Bridgette Michelle, Beatrice Marie, and Benjamin Michael,” he said, then bowed slightly to me with a formal flourish of his hand.

“Very nice. Benjamin Michael Holder is a sturdy sounding name,” I mused aloud.

His close-lipped smile looked uncertain. “Sturdy, huh? I guess I’ll take it.”

“It suits you.” And it did. He seemed solid and comfortable.

“Thanks, I think.” The doubt in his voice rang clear.

I threw my napkin at him. “Stop. Sturdy is good. You don’t want to be the opposite of sturdy. That’d make you… rickety.”

“Well, that’s true. I’d never want to be called rickety, so sturdy, it is.” He wadded up my napkin and tossed it back at me. “Do you have siblings?”

“I’m one of those dreaded only children, if you can believe it,” I admitted. Just that wasn’t giving too much away.

“I can’t imagine growing up without sisters to boss me around,” he said, his face soft like he was remembering something specific.

“Well, my parents did enough of that. Anyway, this is questions for you, right?”

He nodded, his mouth full of food.

“Why did you join the Army?”

He swallowed and took a big breath, one that seemed heavy for some reason I didn’t know about yet, and fiddled with his untouched silverware as he spoke. “I grew up wanting to go into the Army. My uncle had been in for most of my childhood, and I thought it was so cool. My dad was a consultant, regular business job, and he’d never discouraged my interest. By the time I got to college, I recognized I had no real interests, no passions, no clear career route except for the military. I joined ROTC and commissioned when I graduated.”

“So you’ve always wanted to be a soldier?”

“I guess.” His eyes met mine and then flickered away almost immediately.

What is that about?

“Any particular reason you sound… uncertain about that?” I prodded.

His lips pressed together in a regretful expression. “Hard to explain. I’m in an odd place with my career right now.”

He seemed like he wanted to say more, but stopped.

“How so?” I asked, hoping he’d tell me. I hadn’t been forthcoming about myself, but I wanted to know everything about him.

He hesitated for a minute, his gaze sliding over me, evaluating. “I had a bad deployment, and the year since has been challenging, to say the least. All of that and a large helping of therapy have led me to a point where I’m not sure I want to continue, but I have no idea what else I’d do.”

He reached for his water and gulped down several swallows before looking at me again.

“That seems like a really important thing to discover, even though I’m sure it’s a hard place to be.” It sounded awful. Whatever hardships I faced, at least I was doing what I loved—making music, creating, performing.

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