Page 61 of All of You

He turned and shot me a look, one eyebrow raised. “Okay. Where’re you going?”

He walked right up behind Erin, pulled the hair from one side of her neck, and kissed her just behind the ear. He must have said something low enough I couldn’t hear, because she turned and kissed him, a light blush on her cheeks.

I formulated my thoughts like I’d been doing for weeks, months, and took a seat at the small table in the breakfast nook where we’d eat. We never ate in the formal dining room.

“I don’t know where I’m going,” I admitted.

Flint carried two plates with bowls settled on them, steam rising from inside, to the table. He set one in front of me, one in front of Erin’s spot, then returned to the kitchen and grabbed the third. He returned with the last bowl, and Erin carried a steaming loaf of bread and a crock of butter.

“That’s not the worst place to be,” he said as he sat down.

“It’s not easy. I know that feeling, as you know,” Erin said, giving me a look because I had indeed been aware that she wasn’t sure what she wanted, even months ago, or at least hadn’t known how to get it. “But I think Reese is right. It’s not the worst place.”

“I’ll agree to that. I’m fairly certain I’ve been in the worst place,” I said, then cleared my throat.

Erin patted the back of one hand, and we all mumbled agreement to my statement.

She blessed the food, and then we dug in, Flint groaning so loud, I might have been concerned for him if I hadn’t seen him eat Erin’s food countless times before and have the same response.

Frankly, it was indecent.

“This is great, Erin, as always,” I said, taking another bite of the piping hot stew.

She was an amazing cook, and I’d never had anything less than delicious made by her. It was all the more satisfying that she’d been able to pursue her dream of cooking for people. She’d been building a small clientele around the area for a year or more, but had only just started working on a website and some branding.

“I’m glad you like it.” She smiled.

“Ben, not to beat a dead horse, but your time is running out. If you’re going to drop your packet, it’s going to have to be soon. I bet you get an RFO in the next sixty days,” Flint said between spoonfuls of stew.

The knot in my shoulders tensed, the small semblance of pleasure I’d had with my friends and the meal vanishing. He was right. I’d get a Request For Orders to my next duty station, most likely the schooling for the next promotion I’d get in the army to captain, any day. If I was going to get out, I had to drop my packet—officially notify the Army—before moving and going to that school, or I’d be obligated for more time.

“I know.”

“I hope you know that I support you, whatever you want to do,” he said, his voice gentle, but not pitying, thank God.

“Thank you. I appreciate that. I think I’ve known what I want to do for a while now, but actually making the call and ending something I thought would be my life for twenty years or more… it’s terrifying.”

My throat felt dry, my eyes itchy. I took a long drink of my water.

“We’ll be here. You’ll land on your feet. You’ve got training and skills, you’ve got a degree?—”

“A useless degree, yeah?—”

“It doesn’t always have to be dead-on. A lot of jobs only need you to have something, and then you can get in the door and get going.”

I snorted back a laugh. “That’s based on all your experience out in the civilian world?”

He put his palm to my forehead and pushed my head back as I laughed.

“I don’t have to have a job in the civilian world to know how it works. I’ll admit my primary frame of reference is the Army, but I do know people in other industries. And on that note, if I can help in any way…”

“Thank you. I know. The problem now is I have no idea what I want to do. I know pretty clearly I don’t want to stay in, even if saying that makes me want to cringe at the thought of betraying the people I’ve served with.” I folded the napkin and set it on the table.

“That’s a myth. You can’t stay in for other people. That burns off faster than gasoline. It’s not a reason to stay,” Flint said, catching my eye.

“I think I’ve realized that. I just… I don’t know what’s next.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

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