“Mom, I just moved here.” Charlie looked at the boxes stacked around him. The small kitchen opened up to a decent-size living room and the mismatched furniture revealed his bachelor status. “I’ll find time to make friends.”

“And settle down? That’s why you moved there, right? To settle down?”

Charlie ran his fingers through his hair. It felt different having some length to it. His days of high and tights were over, along with his military career. But he was good with that decision. It was the right decision.

Even if his father didn’t agree.

“Are you happy, Charlie?”

He recognized the worry in her voice. He’d seen it in her eyes every time he deployed. And again the night he stormed off after he told his father he was leaving the Marines. “I got your card in the mail. It was the first piece of mail at my new address.”

“I know it’s early, and you don’t need any money, but you’re impossible to buy for. You can use it to buy food or curtains. You do have curtains, right?”

“Blinds.”

“And you’re eating?”

Charlie looked at the dinner his aunt had brought over. “Yes, Mom. I’m eating.”

“I’m just making sure. I don’t need my brother-in-law finding your skeletal remains in the middle of the swamp.”

“You remember you grew up here with Aunt Byrdie, right?”

“I know. But I also know there’s not much to do in Walton. Your aunt and I would drive out to Tybee Island every chance we got. Have you been there yet?”

“Not yet.”

“Oh, honey, your dad just got home. Hold on, I’ll get him—”

“It’s okay, Mom. It’s late and I need to take the dog out.” Charlie frowned. Where was his furry excuse?

“Are you sure? He’d probably like to talk to you.”

Yeah, and tell me what a mistake it was for me to leave the Marines or what a disappointment I am to his legacy. No, thanks. “I’ll talk to him later.”

“On your birthday, then.”

“Sure.” Charlie’s birthday was still a couple of weeks away. Should be enough time to prepare for another lecture on duty and obligation. A speech Charlie didn’t feel his father was qualified to give. “Tell him I said hello, and thanks for the card.”

“I love you, Charlie.”

“Love you too, Mom.”

Ending the call, Charlie rubbed the back of his neck. Frustration twisted his insides, diminishing his appetite. Charlie scooped Bane’s kibble into his bowl and walked down the hall and into a pile of white fluff. His voice came out in a low growl. “Bane.”

Movement came from beneath a layer of shredded fabric and pillowy cotton.

“Bane.”

His dog’s head popped through the mess, guilt written all over his panting face. Was the dog smiling at him?