Sebastian shrugged. “Damned if we know. Probably more of that woo-woo shit,” he said, but he was smiling.
“Is that an official Cajun term? Woo-woo shit?” Jaxson couldn’t help but ask.
“Yeah. What do you call it?”
He shrugged. “A logical guess.”
“Ah, a nonbeliever.”
Jaxson grunted and settled into the recliner. There wasn’t a hell of a lot he did believe in these days.
The SEALs went back to their discussion, which was just fine with him. He wasn’t in the mood for conversation. The low murmur of their voices was company enough.
He was just about to close his eyes when he spotted movement an inch or so from the end of his fingers. It looked like a short, squat armored tank on legs, slowly making its way along the curve of the arm. He hadn’t seen a stink bug in ages. No doubt it had hitched a ride with someone.
Jaxson knew better than to crush it; it was called a stink bug for a reason, and he had no desire to unleash that in such close quarters. He flicked it away, sending it off into the corner somewhere for someone else to deal with later.
True to her word, Blessing returned a short while later with a fourth charge, a guy she introduced as John Roster, an Army guy, like him.
Jaxson stood stiffly, his joint protesting the movement, and tried to hide the wince that went with it. They clasped hands as Jaxson said, “Good to meet you.”
Judging by the puckered skin near the guy’s left eye, he’d been medically discharged, too—a fact that John would confirm a few minutes later.
Jaxson sat back down, vaguely registering something Blessing was saying about gratitude and finding happiness. When she left, John had the same WTF look on his face as Jaxson had had after a few minutes with the woman.
“She’s an odd one ... real nice but odd,” commented Sebastian.
John walked over to the sofa, settling into a space next to him with Sebastian and Kyle across from them.
Kyle shook his head. “She’s got a weird vibe about her ... almost like she knows what’s going on before being told.”
“Woo-woo shit,” said Sebastian, grinning at Jaxson.
For the second time in less than an hour, Jaxson almost smiled.
“She took one look at my face and knew why I was getting out.” John lifted his hand, his fingers grazing over the scar by his left eye. Seeing the others’ gazes following his hand, he shrugged. “Shrapnel. Lucky I’m not blind, but I lost my peripheral vision on this side.” He snorted. “Not bad and yet bad enough.”
“What did you do?” Jaxson asked, the leather squeaking as he shifted in his seat.
“Special Forces. Engineer Sergeant.”
Kyle grinned. “You can build it and demolish it.”
John chuckled. “Yeah, that’s about the long and short of it. You going back in?”
“Don’t know,” Kyle replied. “We’ll see how the recuperation goes. No room for a gimp with my SEAL team. I might have to decide between paper-pusher and getting out.”
John looked at Jaxson. “You?”
“MOS 91B. No paper-pushing for me.”
John nodded as if he understood. Jaxson believed he did, too.
“What about you?” Sebastian asked.
John shook his head and sighed. “Don’t know.” He told them about heading back to his grandfather in Maine, saying he had nowhere else to go.
“At least you’ve got someone to go home to,” Jaxson said, then clamped his lips together when he caught a flash of sympathy in the other man’s eyes. He hadn’t meant to say that out loud. He must have been more tired than he’d thought.
Blessing returned a final time, escorting one more to the room. Tall and fit, he had an air of confidence about him.
“Gentlemen, this is Air Force Chief Master Sergeant Cameron Freeland.”
John took to his feet. “Sir.”
Cameron shook his hand, telling him to skip the formalities. “Save that sir stuff for the officers. Keep your seat, please, and it will soon be Mr. I’ve Punched My Retirement Ticket.”
Blessing turned toward Jaxson. It looked like he was up next. “This is Jaxson Adams, also Army.”
“Prior now also.”
“End-of-tour leave?” Cam asked.
Jaxson waved toward the lower half of his body. “Medical.”
“Sorry to hear that. Doesn’t have to define you.”
Jaxson didn’t know what to say to that, so he went with a simple, “Thanks.”
Blessing continued with the introductions, moving on to Sebastian and finishing up with Kyle.
Jaxson closed his eyes and tried to nod off again but found himself listening to the others as they discussed finding new possibilities in the civilian world. Jaxson wasn’t too worried about that. He didn’t have the special forces training some of the others did, nor was his skill set specific to military service. Good mechanics were always in demand, and injured or not, he was a damn good mechanic. If there was one saving grace to the car bomb that had shattered his side from the chest down and gotten him sent home, it was that it hadn’t affected his hands, eyes, or brain.
It was the where of it that he was struggling with. Did he move forward with the plans he and his father had made before his father’s untimely death? Or did he start fresh somewhere else, somewhere that didn’t hold bittersweet memories?
That wasn’t a decision he had to make today. Not tomorrow either. He’d go back to the hollow, deal with the shit he’d been putting off for far too long, and then reexamine his options.
John was talking, something about letters. Apparently, a class of elementary school kids had gotten his name from the American Legion his grandfather belonged to and started writing to him. Jaxson remembered participating in a similar project when he was a kid.
“You should go by and see them when you get home,” he suggested. “They’d get a kick out of it.”
“You think?” John asked doubtfully.
“We had a couple of servicemen come by for career day when I was in high school. One of them was a guy we’d sent letters to in elementary school. He said those letters kept him going some days.”
“Maybe I will,” John said, and then Cam switched the topic back to what they were going to do next.
“You’re like a walking transition-assistance class,” Kyle said on a laugh, and the others joined in. Even Jaxson chuckled a little. Kyle wasn’t wrong.
Cam shrugged. “You are only limited by your belief in yourself. Think about what it is you want. Where do you want to be when you’re forty-four years old, like me? Do you want a family? Do you want to mentor those behind you? Are you willing to walk away from what you have now and start fresh?”
The guy put into words the same thoughts rolling around in Jaxson’s mind. The problem was, he hadn’t worked any of the answers out yet. And he was tired of thinking about it.
Jaxson kicked back in his chair and adjusted his leg. “No offense, but I’m beat.”
This time, when he closed his eyes, they stayed that way.
Eventually, news came through that the storm had passed and flights were operating again. They gathered their things and prepared to move on. Jaxson shook hands with all of them and wished them good luck. Even though he’d just met them, he felt an inexplicable kinship with them.