Page 67 of Sloane

I looked around at the small group of men who were all supposed to be at home with their families today. I didn’t know if it was better to talk about what they’d be doing if they were stateside, or if that would only make it worse.

We’d been blacked out for two weeks, and not communicating with Ashley felt like one of Dante’s circles of hell. Still, if someone had wanted to hear about her, I would have gladly told them how great she is. So, I figured the guys wouldn’t mind talking about their loved ones either.

I’d pose the question, and if they wanted to talk about home, cool. If not, they didn’t have to.

“What would you be doing if you were home today?”

Dontrell Johnson, a first sergeant from Louisiana, was first to speak up.

“I’d be at my meemaw and pappy’s. My mama and her sisters would be in the kitchen helping my meemaw cook all the fixins, while my uncles and pappy would be outside deep frying a turkey, and all the grandkids would be playing touch football.”

Roy Buckley, one of the gunners, was also from the south and closed his eyes as Dontrell talked.

“I can practically taste the sweet potatoes, collard greens, and corn bread…”

“And the black-eyed peas and cranberry sauce,” Dontrell added.

“My mom always makes mashed potatoes and green bean casserole,” Shawn O’Brien, a.k.a. Mr. Mail Call, said wistfully.

“No, no, no,” Luis Hernandez, a first lieutenant from Arizona chimed in. “You haven’t lived until you’ve had a traditional Mexican Thanksgiving dinner.” He poured on his Mexican accent as he listed the foods he’d be eating. “Tamales, enchiladas, empanadas, pozole, menudo… and flan and tres leches for dessert.”

“What about you, Cap’?”

If I wasn’t deployed for Thanksgiving, I’d be happy with whatever my friends were making. I was always in charge of dessert because I could order pumpkin and pecan pies from the local bakery. But if I told my men that, the conversation would inevitably turn to why I didn’t spend it with my family, and that wasn’t something I shared with many people.

“Oh, you know… I’d be gorging on turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, cranberries, pumpkin pie… the usual.”

My thoughts went to Ashley, and I wondered how she was spending her holiday. Would we make new traditions together?

Someone asked, “What’s the first thing you’re going to do when you get home?”

O’Brien answered without hesitation. “Hug my girlfriend.”

I smiled at him from across the pop-up table.

“I didn’t know you had a girlfriend. Is it serious?”

He stirred the dried mashed potatoes on his plate.

“Yeah, I was planning on proposing when I was home.”

“No shit!” was muttered in a variety of different ways from the guys.

“Yeah, I bought the ring and everything before we shipped out, but I couldn’t ever find the right time to ask her.”

“You’ll know when it’s the right time,” I said like I was well versed on the subject.

“Think you’ll ever get married, Cap’?”

I thought about my beautiful brown-haired, hazel-eyed girl and conceded I didn’t hate the idea.

“It could happen.”

“Your pen pal, Ashley?” O’Brien asked.

I shrugged. “Stranger things have happened.”

“Did you tell her she needs a new stationary color?”

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