“Maxi! Maxi! Maxi!”
I knew what was coming, and sure enough, there was Gramma, tugging on his suit jacket sleeve and whispering something in his ear, like she had that June day.
“Goose! Goose! Goose! Goose!”
She’d set him straight.
“Grampa. Sit down,” I mouthed, not happy with him, not at all.
Nearly twenty years later, it felt kind of good, and I loved him for it.
My time in combat overseas, only to come home on leave to different battles and explosive anger, had often left me wondering if death wouldn’t be a reward. Now, seeing it all play back, I wondered if my doom was more like punishment for staying in that life so long. But then, there I was in the next memory, another sweet one.
Home for good after my last deployment, I stood in my dress uniform right beside Rip again, watch
