Elle emerged from the chaotic mob scene, her sandy blond hair and hazel eyes instantly rendering everyone else insignificant, aside from the mop-headed four-year-old boy clutched in her arms. A rush of emotion overcame Ford at the sight of his wife and son, who had only been flickering images on a computer screen for over a year now. He couldn’t help noticing how much bigger Sam was; he’d been barely more than a toddler the last time Ford had laid eyes on him in person. He tried not to think about how much he’d missed during the young boy’s growth.

They jostled their way through the crowd toward each other. Beaming and beautiful, Elle put Sam down on the pavement in front of his father. Ford half expected the boy to come charging toward him, as so many of the other children were doing with their parents, but instead Sam looked oddly tentative. He hung back shyly, retreating behind his mother, while Ford stood by helplessly, uncertain what to do. At the moment, defusing a roadside IED seemed simpler and easier than re-connecting with his own child.

Elle broke the awkward silence. “Lots of discussion about who gets the first hug.” she explained.

“Where’d you come out on that?” Ford asked.

Elle bent to confer with Sam. “You change your mind, honey?”

Sam stared at Ford wordlessly. Ford knelt down before him, approaching him as delicately as he would an unexploded bomb.

“I’ve been carrying around that last hug you gave me for a long time,” Ford said gently, even as Sam continued to gaze at him as though he didn’t quite recognize the uniformed stranger before him. “I could sure use a refill.”

The boy came out from behind Elle, but still appeared a little shy. Elle placed a comforting hand on Sam’s shoulder, while casting an apologetic look at Ford.

“Let’s do this,” she suggested. “Why don’t I go first and check it out and make sure Daddy still knows what he’s doing?”

She came forward and, for the time being, all Ford’s fears and worries evaporated as she was there in his arms once more, holding him close, kissing him passionately, and he felt keenly just how much he had missed her during his long months abroad. Sam was squeezed in between them, hesitantly joining in the celebration. The three of them clung to each other, wrapped up tight in the moment, oblivious to the tumultuous scene around them. For the first time since the plane had touched down, Ford truly felt like he was home.

At least for now.

* * *

“Welcome Home, Daddy!” read the homemade banner taped to the dining room wall.