She got home, unloaded the items she’d purchased, marked in her calendar the date the furniture would be delivered, then called Rick’s phone. “Hi, it’s me again. I just found out you’re not here. I’m glad you’re not just blocking my calls or something. Anyway, I’ll be waiting until you get back. Please call me when you get this.” She paused. “I love you.”

Chapter
Twenty-nine

Weary to the core, Rick let himself into his house and pulled off his beret as he tossed his keys on the kitchen counter. He moved into the living room and lay on the couch. He knew he had to take his boots off, and he really wanted to take a long, hot shower. But right now, he needed sleep.

When he opened his eyes again, bright sunlight poured through the bare windows. He blinked and looked around, disoriented. Moving boxes filled the room. His flat-screen television hung on the wall, and the cords dangled loose below it. He’d had enough time upon arriving at Fort Campbell to sign for his quarters and unload the moving truck before his team had to leave again.

They’d spent the last two months in Syria. They’d done good work. But his heart hadn’t been on the mission, and his mind felt chaotic and distracted the entire time.

Hanson had given him sound advice, but he didn’t relish thoughts of Cynthia like Hanson did his wife. Putting the metaphorical lid on her and opening it when he had time to focus on her did not appeal to him. Nothing about thinking of her gave him much joy or peace. It physically hurt his heart whenever she crossed his mind. He wanted to stop thinking about her altogether.

He got off the couch and went to his bedroom. On the way, he ran into a box and uttered a mild expletive as he rubbed his shin. His mattresses sat stacked against the wall, and the bed frame lay in pieces. He needed to get moved in.

In the bathroom, he stared at his face in the mirror, noting his bloodshot eyes. He silently thanked God for having the next four days off. He needed to rest, restore, and unpack.

After taking a long, hot shower, he dug through boxes in the bedroom and found a pair of jeans, a T-shirt, and tennis shoes. He retrieved his duffel bag and rucksack from the car and took them straight to the laundry room. Once he had a load of uniforms in the washing machine, he shaved off his beard. He ran his hands over his smooth chin, opening and closing his mouth. Much freer.

As he ate, he surveyed the open boxes and the chaos around him. He started with unpacking the kitchen, always the easiest room because everything had a place.