What Part of Marine Don't You Understand - By Heather Long Page 0,6

got your back.” He gave Jethro a pat and turned to jog toward the parking lots.

The easy acceptance stunned him, a solid kick in the ass to his confidence. “That wasn’t so bad.” He glanced down at the Labrador and laughed at the dog’s tongue-lolling grin. “Not bad at all.”

***

“So what makes this week so different?” Doc sat forward, his notepad resting untouched on the thick, upholstered arm of the chair. Their once weekly sessions had turned daily for the past three weeks.

“I’m actually looking forward to our sessions.” He counted them off on his fingers. “I’m sleeping better. I’m running again. My balance is improving—it’s not perfect. It may never be perfect and….” He hesitated, uncertain of how to phrase it. “And I’m okay with that.”

“That’s better than okay. That’s great.” Encouragement and acceptance were readily available in James’ office. “How about crowds? How are you doing getting off campus?”

He grimaced. “Still not my favorite thing. But…I hung out around one of the tour groups yesterday. You know the ones Rebecca is bringing in as part of the fundraising? About a dozen people, lots of noisy shoes.” He’d sweat right through shirt and thought his heart would explode in his chest, but he didn’t lose it and when it was over, he experienced relief and something more.

Satisfaction.

“I’m familiar. She’s doing some excellent work getting the message out there. We’ve had several inquiries about openings over the last few weeks. How did you feel about the tour?”

“It was a tour, bunch of people listening so they weren’t that noisy. You know the crazy thing is, Jethro helps.” The dog always seemed to know when he was about to have a nutty and distracted him. It helped that he genuinely liked Jethro, an uncomplicated companion whose only demands included taking him for regular walks and scratching between his ears.

“How did you feel about it?” Apparently he wouldn’t let Matt evade a direct response.

“I didn’t like it. I kept hearing boots on the ground running, but I didn’t—I didn’t taste it in my mouth as much. Bitter, but not sickening. It seemed easier to remind myself it wasn’t real.”

James nodded slowly. “Tell me what happened in Iraq.”

“Again?” Didn't James ever get tired of asking the same questions over and over?

“Yes, again. It will get easier.”

“Soon?” Or was that too much to ask?

“Eventually.” James didn’t sugar coat it and as unwelcome as the news might be, Matt preferred the truth.

Acrid bile coated his throat and Matt swallowed. “It was the middle of the night and I was in my bunk….”

Naomi chewed the end of the pencil and stared at the blank sheet music in front of her. Her producer had called three times that week and she abandoned the cell phone in her borrowed apartment to escape outside with her guitar and her thoughts. None of the songs he sent her were right. Phil accused her of being a diva, and he might be right, but she wanted her debut album to be special—the first songs anyone would hear and they would either discover her or change the station.

Not that people really seemed to listen to radio stations anymore, but they did have Pandora and Spotify and a number of other ways to get music. Her chances of getting attention without a truly outstanding track were slim to none. She would rather miss her studio time entirely than record some half-assed piece of music that sounded like everything else out there.

Doing it well meant doing it right. She didn’t need to wait around for inspiration. Mike’s Place overflowed with powerful, compelling stories beckoning to be told. Sliding the pencil behind her ear, she unlocked the guitar case and set the Gibson in her lap. It took only a few moments to tune it. Stroking her fingertips across the chords, she concentrated on emptying her mind and played.

The music came slowly and she relaxed into it. The sun warmed her face and a light breeze tugged at her hair. Losing herself in the moment was a skill perfected over a lifetime of moves from Marine base to Marine base across the country and around the world. Being alone in her own head provided the sanity check frequent relocations and new situations demanded.

Maybe that’s why she liked Mike’s Place so much—it reminded her of all the bases she’d grown up on, but without reveille and troops of men working out.

Although there is definitely something to be said about a unit working out…. Humor flooded through