Devil’s in the Details by Sydney Gibson Page A

day. Hot sand has a smell to it that can haunt you if you let it." I stood away from the fence, looking over my yard and how it lacked the bright colors dotting around Dale's. "I only spent a little bit of time in Iraq after Baghdad fell, then it was back on the boat to keep the kids in line. You know how it is, Captain."
    Dale chuckled with me, "Always a babysitter, never really a soldier."
    Dale and I both looked up to see Mary pop her head out the patio sliding door, "Victoria, you're more than welcome to join us for dinner. Pot roast and leftover cobbler?" She smiled warmly at me like my own mother would if she was still alive.
    I raised my hand politely, "Thanks Mary, but I have a large stack of essays to read before morning. The midshipmen would not understand why their grades were delayed."
    Mary grinned, "They would if they had my pot roast." She waved at me, "Leftovers will be there if you want it. Stop on over in the morning and I will send you off with a hearty lunch." Mary then pointed at Dale, "Ten minutes and you better be washed and sitting at the table."
    Dale saluted his wife, "Yes ma'am." He then turned to me, "If you change your mind." He raised an eyebrow my way as a silent plea for me to come inside for more war stories.
    "I know. Thank you again." We parted ways, entering our houses at the same time. Dale to sit down to a lovely dinner with his wife and I to sit in my den watching old movies with essays, eating leftovers.
    Sitting at the desk, I half debated going next door and indulging in a moment of normal. Sit with my neighbors and pretend for an hour or two. Live a normal life, one that was taken away from me against my will.
    Pressing the power button on my thin remote, I reached for the first essay on top of the smaller stack I had left to grade before morning. The television lighting up with Cary Grant in  I Was a Male War Bride , showing in glorious black and white. I smirked to myself, reciting the lines as they were spoken, having seen this movie almost a hundred times. I could recall it in my sleep like I was feeding the lines to Cary from the sidelines. I had also decided on finishing off the lasagna I had made when I got home from my late night job with Thomas. Thinking of how nice the thick, gooey cheese would end this day on a high note.
    Flipping open the first page of Ensign Christenson's essay on Patton, I faded into grading mode, barely hearing my phone ring from the far corner of the desk. Blindly reaching for it and answering it, I frowned when I heard Dani's voice.
    "Happy Sunday, Professor." Dani sounded less than cheery, but then again she never sounded overly cheery unless she was actively irritating me.
    "Dani." I set my red pen down, leaning back in the chair and letting my eyes drift to the screen in an attempt to tune the woman out. "How can I help you?"
    Dani laughed softly, "It's more like how can I help you?" The quiet clicks in the background told me she wasn't in the basement, but probably at home. "The old man just sent me confirmation of payment. Should be in your account now and ready for you to spend it on school supplies. He also wanted me to pass on that he and the old lady are very happy with the end result." I heard the obnoxious chuckle under her breath.
    I rolled my eyes, it only took thirty seconds for her to irritate me, "Thank you. Is that all?" I looked at the clock, I could only think about the leftover lasagna I had in the fridge, waiting for me to reheat and eat the other half with a big glass of red wine.
    Dani sighed, "Actually, no. There is a slight problem." She clicked a few more times making me wonder if the woman was forever in front of a computer, "You popped up late last night on my web search alerts. Looks like someone did an image search for your ugly mug." She paused, "The image looks like it came from the security footage from the hospital where you dropped your brunette damsel off. Why the hell did you look right at the camera? You of all