Welcome Home
A MANDA Boyd stood in the terminal with her parents, a poster-board held up between her and her mother. “Welcome Home, Robbie.” She shifted her weight, checking the flight status board. His flight was listed as on time, but it was already ten minutes late. Typical.
The sweet cinnamon smell of sugar dipped pretzels wafted over from the Auntie Anne’s behind them. “I’m starving,” she said.
“Shh, I see someone coming,” her mother said, pointing.
Her dad scooted closer, adjusted his glasses. The crowd around them surged, families too anxious to stay still any longer.
The first soldier appeared in his tan camouflage fatigues. He walked quickly, almost jogging, his eyes scanning for whoever waited for him.
“Daddy!” A little boy, probably three or four, ran past, his arms outstretched. The first soldier caught the little guy and lifted him into a hug. A crying girl, not much older than Amanda, followed on the boy’s heels.
The breeze from the industrial air conditioning prickled her skin. Or maybe it was just seeing the reunion and knowing her brother could be the next one in line.
“There he is,” her father rumbled.
And just like that, there he was. Robbie. Backpack slung over one camouflaged shoulder, wide grin on his face.
Her mother dropped her side of the sign and ran out to greet him. Amanda hung back, giving them a moment alone. Her dad wrapped his arm around her shoulders.
“I’m already sad that he has to leave,” he whispered.
“Don’t focus on that,” she said. “Just enjoy the time you have with him.”
“I know. It’s hard, though.” He squeezed her again, tighter. Passengers streamed past on either side, business people and tourists--the soldiers had all been at the front, eager to find their families.
“Pop, Amanda, get over here,” Robbie said. He turned toward another soldier that stood behind him, waiting. Robbie beckoned him over. “This is Dylan, my squad-mate. He didn’t have anywhere to go for the holidays, so invited him to come with me.”
She stopped, looked him over. An inch or so taller than Robbie, but with the same broad shoulders. His cheeks had a low coat of stubble, as if he hadn’t shaved since they left Kabul. All in all, it was pretty damn hot. She approved.
“If I’m imposing, I can get a hotel room,” Dylan offered. “It’s not a problem.”
“Nonsense,” her dad said. “Any friend of Robbie’s is always welcome with us. We’re glad to have you.”
“Come here, squirt.” Robbie wrapped her into a hug and squeezed. He smelled of dust and Old Spice. It was as if the last six months had never happened. As if he hadn’t taken a commission with the Marines. As if he hadn’t been sent to Afghanistan to fight in a war most of America had already forgotten.
“I’m glad you’re home,” she whispered into his ear. He was still her brother, even if they weren’t blood relations. Fifteen years living together under the same roof had seen to that.
“I’m glad to be home.” He kissed her on the forehead.
It was perfectly chaste, but it sent a thrill through her. A twinge of shame followed. Part of her didn’t want to believe that he was her brother, even after all that time. She pushed it aside and focused on Dylan.
“Where you from?” she asked the other soldier.
“Albuquerque,” he said. “By way of Kabul.”
They started moving with the crowd toward the baggage return. Dylan loped along on the other side of Robbie, her parents trailing a step behind.
“How long have you been in the service?” she asked Dylan.
“Three long years.” He sighed as he said it.
“That bad?” her dad asked.
“Nah, not all bad. This is my second tour, though. It’s good to be back stateside.”
“Dylan’s been a lifesaver,” Robbie said. “Taught me how to stay safe.” He shot his buddy a look of admiration.
Dylan shrugged it off. They waited at the baggage carousel with the other families. All around them
A MANDA Boyd stood in the terminal with her parents, a poster-board held up between her and her mother. “Welcome Home, Robbie.” She shifted her weight, checking the flight status board. His flight was listed as on time, but it was already ten minutes late. Typical.
The sweet cinnamon smell of sugar dipped pretzels wafted over from the Auntie Anne’s behind them. “I’m starving,” she said.
“Shh, I see someone coming,” her mother said, pointing.
Her dad scooted closer, adjusted his glasses. The crowd around them surged, families too anxious to stay still any longer.
The first soldier appeared in his tan camouflage fatigues. He walked quickly, almost jogging, his eyes scanning for whoever waited for him.
“Daddy!” A little boy, probably three or four, ran past, his arms outstretched. The first soldier caught the little guy and lifted him into a hug. A crying girl, not much older than Amanda, followed on the boy’s heels.
The breeze from the industrial air conditioning prickled her skin. Or maybe it was just seeing the reunion and knowing her brother could be the next one in line.
“There he is,” her father rumbled.
And just like that, there he was. Robbie. Backpack slung over one camouflaged shoulder, wide grin on his face.
Her mother dropped her side of the sign and ran out to greet him. Amanda hung back, giving them a moment alone. Her dad wrapped his arm around her shoulders.
“I’m already sad that he has to leave,” he whispered.
“Don’t focus on that,” she said. “Just enjoy the time you have with him.”
“I know. It’s hard, though.” He squeezed her again, tighter. Passengers streamed past on either side, business people and tourists--the soldiers had all been at the front, eager to find their families.
“Pop, Amanda, get over here,” Robbie said. He turned toward another soldier that stood behind him, waiting. Robbie beckoned him over. “This is Dylan, my squad-mate. He didn’t have anywhere to go for the holidays, so invited him to come with me.”
She stopped, looked him over. An inch or so taller than Robbie, but with the same broad shoulders. His cheeks had a low coat of stubble, as if he hadn’t shaved since they left Kabul. All in all, it was pretty damn hot. She approved.
“If I’m imposing, I can get a hotel room,” Dylan offered. “It’s not a problem.”
“Nonsense,” her dad said. “Any friend of Robbie’s is always welcome with us. We’re glad to have you.”
“Come here, squirt.” Robbie wrapped her into a hug and squeezed. He smelled of dust and Old Spice. It was as if the last six months had never happened. As if he hadn’t taken a commission with the Marines. As if he hadn’t been sent to Afghanistan to fight in a war most of America had already forgotten.
“I’m glad you’re home,” she whispered into his ear. He was still her brother, even if they weren’t blood relations. Fifteen years living together under the same roof had seen to that.
“I’m glad to be home.” He kissed her on the forehead.
It was perfectly chaste, but it sent a thrill through her. A twinge of shame followed. Part of her didn’t want to believe that he was her brother, even after all that time. She pushed it aside and focused on Dylan.
“Where you from?” she asked the other soldier.
“Albuquerque,” he said. “By way of Kabul.”
They started moving with the crowd toward the baggage return. Dylan loped along on the other side of Robbie, her parents trailing a step behind.
“How long have you been in the service?” she asked Dylan.
“Three long years.” He sighed as he said it.
“That bad?” her dad asked.
“Nah, not all bad. This is my second tour, though. It’s good to be back stateside.”
“Dylan’s been a lifesaver,” Robbie said. “Taught me how to stay safe.” He shot his buddy a look of admiration.
Dylan shrugged it off. They waited at the baggage carousel with the other families. All around them
Similar Books
