Chapter 7 - Healing Under the Sun
By early summer, the rainy gloom of the city had given way to bright, golden sunshine.
We had moved out of the temporary apartment and into a quiet house with a large backyard on the edge of town—a place with tall oak trees, a wooden porch, and enough room for a golden retriever.
Tommy was running across the lawn, chasing a red soccer ball, his laughter ringing out clear and bright—a sound that used to be completely foreign to him. He had gained five pounds, his cheeks had filled out with healthy color, and the haunted look in his eyes had been replaced by the mischievous curiosity typical of any six-year-old.
Ava sat on the porch swing, reading a thick paperback novel. Her knuckles had healed completely, leaving only faint, silvery scars that she wore like quiet badges of honor.
I walked out onto the porch carrying a tray of freshly squeezed lemonade, setting it down on the wooden side table.
"Penny for your thoughts, Sergeant," I said, sitting down beside her.
Ava lowered her book and smiled, a genuine, radiant smile that I hadn't seen in years—not since before the divorce, before the long deployments, before the darkness settled into our lives.
"I was just thinking about Buddy," she said softly.
"What about him?"
"Do you think he's watching us?"
I looked out at the green lawn, at Tommy laughing as he kicked the ball against the old wooden fence, and then back at my daughter.
"I know he is," I said, putting my arm around her shoulders and pulling her close. "And I think he'd be pretty proud of how well you're guarding the pack."
Ava leaned her head against my shoulder. "Dad?"
"Yeah?"
"Are you ever going back to Germany?"
May you like
I shook my head, breathing in the warm summer air, smelling the cut grass and the lemonade. My military career had given me discipline, honor, and strength, but it had nearly cost me the only things that truly mattered.
"I'm retired, sweetie," I said, kissing the top of her head. "My only post from now on is right here."
