Page 1 of Home Coming

CHAPTERONE

The cell phone rang at exactly zero-six-hundred, on the dot.

Quinn knew who it was even before looking at the caller ID on the screen.

Once he did look the name displayed only confirmed his suspicions. His mother in New York always waited until exactly nine a.m. her time to call him.

Luckily, for both of them, he’d already gotten in his morning run and had showered and dressed for the day. He had a few minutes to spare and talk.

“Good morning,” he said as he moved to the window of his barrack’s room.

He stared out across the small green rectangle of neatly cropped grass that bordered the vehicle-filled parking lot.

In contrast, the sweeping expanse of cloudless cornflower blue sky stretched out above the horizon—but this was southern California so sunshine and blue skies were nothing new.

“Quinn?” There was an inflection of surprise in his mother’s tone.

Wondering why, he said, “Yes, Mom.”

“I wasn’t expecting to hear your voice.”

He let out a short laugh. “Mom, you called my phone. Who else’s voice would you hear?”

“I meant you never answer my calls. At least not live and in person. When AI takes over the world, I’m ready. I already have a very close personal relationship with your voicemail, whom I’ve spoken to more than I have you since you moved out there.”

He hung his head.

Over a decade later and his mother was still throwing it in his face that he’d moved to the other side of the country and away from her.

He drew in a breath before changing the subject. “So how are you? How’s Dad?”

“We’re fine. Your sister, however, is another matter.”

He closed his eyes and took another bracing breath. His mother might be mad at him for joining the Navy right out of high school and moving across the country, but his little sister Josie was the true Baldwin family problem child.

“What is it now?” he asked.

“It’s too much to get into on the phone since I know you can’t talk and we have limited time, so—”

“I never said that,” he interrupted while stifling a sigh.

She continued as if he hadn’t spoken, “—let me get right to the point. They mailed the invitation for your high school reunion here to the house.”

He did the math and frowned. “Mythirteen-year high school reunion?”

“Apparently it’s for everyone. All the graduating classes together. Your sister’s year. Yours. Every alum since the school opened back in the sixties. Your sister’s very excited about it.”

Why?He had an image of the youngest, most recent graduates all taking selfies while the geriatric crowd sat and plugged their ears, scowling because the music was too loud.

“Sounds great,” he said with enough sarcasm that even his mother should pick up on it.

She didn’t. “Do you want me to mail the invitation to you there?”

No, he did not since he wouldn’t be there to receive it. He didn’t mention that but did ask, “When is the date of this thing?”

With any luck it was while he’d still be out of the country.

“November something,” she answered.

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