I smile at everyone that came. My parents thought it would be good for me to spend time with friends and family on my birthday, instead of worrying about Lee. He missed put last call a week ago and I'm worried because he never misses. Mom comes over and pats my arm. "Sweetie these things happen sometimes. It's not strange that he missed a call once. You even said he mentioned he was going to be in a risky area and may not be able to call." I nod and shrug. "I just worry. I hate having him in the military but I know it's what he loves."
I go into the kitchen and check the snacks before hearing a ring at the door. "Did you invite the whole neighborhood?" I ask mom jokingly while heading towards the door. "I don't think I invited anyone else. Maybe someone who heard and wanted to come?" I smile when I open the door. Only for it to drop along woth all the blood from my face.
"Are you Jason Weston?" One of the men in army suits asks. I slowly nod my head. "H-How may I help you Gentlemen?" I ask, my voice coming out quieter than I wanted it to. "Sir, we sorry to tell you but your husband didn't make it. We will be glad to help with arrangements for his body and belongings to be brought back. He was a brave man and fought honorably." I feel my hand shake before taking two steps back. "Thank you, we will get back to you on that. Have a nice day." My mother says before closing the door and slowly walking be up to my room. "I'll tell everyone to leave. I'm so sorry sweetie." I don't move as she goes back downstairs. Or when she comes back up to see about me. She pulls off my jeans and lays me under the covers saying something I don't quiet hear before leaving the door open and going downstairs. I lay there for fifteen minutes staring at the hands on a clock before the first tear roles down my face.
---
Two years later
"Are you sure your going to be okay sweetie. I still think it's too early." I sigh and set down the last box before picking up the phone. "Mom, I'm 26 years old. I can take care of myself. I had to get out of that house and you know dad wouldn't let me stay with y'all. I'll be okay." She talks a bit more before saying bye and I hang up. I finish unpacking the last few boxes before I reach his box. Everything I decided to keep of his is in here. Pictures, the folded flag, his medals and badges. I sit down on the couch and open it up. I take out the folded flag, in it's case we bought, the box that has his medals and little trinkets he loved, and then the picture books.
There are a good bit of them because they go back to high school when we got together. There's pictures of us, me, him, his family, my family, friends, and in every single one he's smiling and happy. All the way up to the last photo he sent me of his squad and him. He's right in the middle laughing at something they said...that was a week before the accident.
There's a commotion and a loud banging noise and Buster comes running in. He whines and leans against my leg. Buster was Lee's bomb dog. After the accident he refused to leave my side and since he tried to attack anyone who moved us they decided to let me keep him. Buster wines again and I frown. I stand and walk to the window in the kitchen, and look outside to see my neighbor picking up a ladder. I open the window and watch him put it back against his house before rubbing his shoulder. "Are you alright?" I ask without thinking and he spins around and smiles. "Hi, you must be the new neighbors, yes I'm good it happens sometimes with this ladder. I keep meaning to get a new one but always forget." He walks closer and I see he's very fit under his shirt. "Alright, well I don't want to sound rude but if at all possible could you try not to make loud banging sounds like that, it scares Buster and his PTSD makes it worse."
He looks confused before the german shepherd sticks his head out and barks loudly. The mans eyes widen and he nods. "Sorry, I'll try to get a new ladder soon. You said he had PTSD?" I nod and lay my hand on his head. "Yes, he was my husbands bomb dog. He's retired now so he stays with me." He blinks before looking at Buster. "When you say was..." he gives a look and I feel my smile drop. "He passed away while fighting two years ago. I moved to try and make a fresh start." He nods and I hear a squeal before a little blonde boy runs up and latches onto the man. "Papa, papa, wanna swim!!"
