“Oh, come on, bro, I saved you the best one. Aren’t you gonna open it? Mine was from a fifth-grade class in Kansas. I’m going to have a flag sent to them before I leave.”
Gabe picked up the white envelope from his desk and turned it over in his hands. It had obviously been forwarded from another source, since it was simply addressed to Dear Soldier. Maybe it was his imagination, but the writing looked neat and feminine. He’d never admit it, but he kind of liked the Charlie Brown stickers on it. He glanced up at his buddy Jason, aka Captain Jason Keller, and shrugged. “You should give this to one of the younger guys who don’t have anyone at home.” There were a lot of support groups back in the States that sent food and toiletries on a regular basis. But something as seemingly antiquated as snail mail was a big deal here. Having a handwritten message was worth more than most people could possibly guess. And he tried to make sure all of his soldiers were covered in that area.
“Got more than they can open in a week,” Jason assured him. “You know the mail has been backed up for a while, so there was a shitload that came in today.” Jason pointed to the one Gabe still held in his hand, “Take one for yourself just this once. It’s probably from a school like mine. I’ll have another flag flown for you to send out to them.”
“Yeah, sure.” Gabe nodded, knowing it was pointless to argue. He put the envelope down and pushed back from his desk. “Time to feed the troops.” Every so often, the senior commissioned and noncommissioned officers served lunch to the troops. It was a way to interact in a more relaxed manner, as well as show appreciation for their hard work. Should they run low on food, he’d eat one of the stale candy bars he kept in his desk for the days he was too busy to go to the chow hall.
The troops were in good spirits as they enjoyed not only a good meal but some much-needed time off. Gabe had been through enough deployments to detect the underlying current of melancholy that hung over the noisy room, but most appeared to be pushing it aside as they joked around with their fellow soldiers.
By the time everyone was served and he’d made the minimum amount of small talk, he was ready to unwind before he caught a few hours’ sleep. But the assholes who decided to shoot grenades over the fence had other ideas. Gabe had long ago become desensitized to the sounds of explosions. And most would never be more than an annoyance, but it still required investigation and, at times, retaliation. Thus, another day had passed before he noticed the unopened envelope pushed to the side of his desk. Again, he almost ignored it, but he needed a break. Something that lets me pretend I’m anywhere but here, if even for a moment. Let’s see what you’ve got, kid.
And that’s what he expected when he opened the card and unfolded the paper tucked inside. To see a child’s handwriting. Possibly a picture drawn at the bottom. Instead, he found himself reading a letter that had him not only smiling but laughing by the end. Considering he hadn’t done it often lately, it sounded rusty even to his own ears.
Dear Soldier:
Greetings from North Carolina. I hope this finds you well and having a much better day than I’ve had. So I made the unfortunate mistake of attending a family reunion earlier. I know, I know. I can only blame it on a severe lapse in judgment. Let me stop there and fill you in on a bit of my backstory so that you can fully appreciate what transpired.
I am a thirty-five-year-old woman, and I work as a nanny for my brother’s family. I have a college degree in business administration, and I was employed in that field for several years. Then my niece Kaylee was born. She has asthma and constantly fell sick when she was put into day care. They hired a few different nannies, but due to my sister-in-law’s colorful personality, none of them stayed for very long. When Kaylee was two, I agreed to use my vacation time to help them out of a jam. My brother was going out of town on business, and his wife couldn’t get time off from work to watch their daughter. Long story short, I ended up leaving my job and watching Kaylee full-time. I wasn’t happy where I was working . . . and it was only supposed to be until they found a replacement. That was three years ago. I’m completely in love with my niece and it’s never been a hardship to care for her. But—well, let me get back to the events of the day before I go there.
My extended family is very . . . vocal. I’m putting that kindly for your benefit. Don’t want you to think I’m the type of person who is mean to old people and animals. Anyway, one of my aunts totally blindsided me in front of the entire family unit by announcing that I’m a spinster who lives with my brother. And that I’ve never had a boyfriend. Which, by the way, isn’t true. I had a very active social life before I became a nanny, and I still meet up with friends often.
Since when is being a good person a crime? I thought my relatives were going to give my brother a medal of honor for supporting his deadbeat sister. Then place me in quarantine before some poor innocent person caught my spinsterhood disease. Either that, or ship me off to a retirement home to live out the rest of my golden years. Obviously, I missed the memo that says you’re put out to pasture when you reach your mid-thirties. If you, my new friend, are around my age, I’ll see if I can get a discounted rate at the local old folks’ home. Oh wait—you didn’t know you were over-the-hill either? Well, thank goodness, I’m glad it’s not just me. Don’t worry, we’ll have loads of fun playing shuffle board and bingo. If you play your cards right, I’ll let you take my scooter for a ride. That sounded rather risqué. Don’t get excited, I was speaking of my future motorized chair—bedazzled, of course. According to my family, I’ve never given a single ride of the other variety, so get that notion right out of your head. If you’re a woman, this must sound even more insane.
I should probably end this now. It’s already gone off the rails and crashed into a brick wall. You’re quite possibly scanning for a return address to forward to the authorities. I promise, I’m harmless. A bit of a disaster when it comes to words, but that’s it. Oh, before I forget, I have a very serious question for you. Which character from the movie Top Gun would you be? Goose or Maverick? If you’ve never watched the movie before, then do so immediately and get back to me. Cue the music from Jeopardy. I’ll be waiting.
Take care and be safe,
Sara the spinster—and future cat lady
He read the letter twice more before reluctantly laying it down. By sharing her own amusing tale of woe, the stranger, a woman named Sara, had made him feel lighter somehow. The stress of the last twenty-four hours had been subdued as he found an escape outlet in her words. And for that, he was more grateful than she’d ever know. He owed her at the very least the courtesy of a reply. Yet as his fingers hovered over the keyboard, he could come up with nothing that even compared to her humor. The few lines he typed sounded stilted and formal. Had it really been so long since he’d put himself out there to someone not affiliated with the military? Well, he couldn’t discount his parents and sister, but that was different. He and his dad said a few words, but after that, he mostly listened while his mom and sister talked, and they seemed fine with that. In fact, it was hard to get a word in most of the time. But for some strange reason, he wanted this Sara to like his e-mail. For it to make her smile in the way her letter had him. But how? He could tell her he Googled tips on how to write a great letter to a woman. And he actually considered doing just that, then thumped the desk in disgust. Unless pity is what you’re going for, buddy, you should go back to the drawing board. He was still sitting in the same position ten minutes later when Jason stuck his head in the doorway. “Hey, we gotta go, man. Got that promotion ceremony in a few.” Gabe nodded as he began gathering his things. Then before he could talk himself out of it, he sent a brief response to Sara. He had too much on his plate to be stressed out over something so trivial. He doubted he’d ever hear from her again anyway, so why expend energy worrying about it?