The Day After

I stare at my bed side clock flashing the familiar 04:00 at me. For the first time in several decades it isn't accompanied by the mind numbing beep I've become accustomed to waking to. I guess I didn't really need the alarm the last decade or so but habit had me set it every night before bed. A pang of loss sounds its way through my chest. I turn over with a heavy sigh.

Its the first day of my new life. I hate it. Soft graying curls remind me why I agreed to this change in the first place. Cara McNeal. She has been supportive, faithful and patient with me since our very first class of high school. The years have withered her skin and drained the honey color from her hair. I wrap my arm over her lithe frame and breathe in her vanilla aroma. Maybe I don't hate it so much.

When was the last time I got to just lay here and hold my love? She is thinner than I remember, too thin. Perhaps this was for the best. I know my career took an even greater toll on her and she never questioned or complained about my line of work. Surely it was harder to be the one always being left behind all those years spent waiting.

I could do this for her. I could sleep in and hold her hand on morning walks together. I close my eyes again and let her soft breathing lull me back to sleep.

"Honey..." a soft kiss wakes me and I smile.

"Sunflower." I grumble.

"I can make coffee." I can feel her shimmy out of bed without opening my eyes. I just lay there feeling the warm sunlight on my back and listen to the sounds of domestication. The clink of mugs, the coffee pot sputtering, her soft hum as she pulls a brush quickly through her hair. I used to think it was odd she kept her hair brush in the kitchen but over the years it made more sense. She brushes her hair while the coffee brews and she pours cereal. Then after we eat she will spend a few precious minutes in the rest room brushing her teeth and freshening up for the day.

I'm sure I used to complain about her taking too much time in the rest room in the mornings. Back when we lived in that tiny 1 bed room apartment afforded by the government. Its just another small sacrifice she never should've had to make for me.

I sigh and heave myself out of bed before I drown in the dark thoughts. The cold floor is a welcome distraction this morning. I grab her small, fluffy pink slippers from her side of the bed and her silk robe from the door hook.

"Sunflower." I grunt as I enter the kitchen holding up her slippers and robe in either hair. She spins too quickly and wobbles a bit. Her beauty is undeniable even in our older years. The crinkles beside her eyes bring a softness that matches the deep laugh lines of warmth to her round face. She hates the wrinkles but I adore her all the same. She pads over and slips on her pink fuzzies and then I help slip the robe on her.

"You didn't have to. I won't die..." she trails off and the smile fades as she realizes her poor choice of words. I just grunt at her and guide her to her favorite seat at the table.

"I'll make the coffee." I all but stomp to the fridge to get her cold brew and milk. The hot coffee brewing is only for me. I exhale as I sit her coffee ingredients on the table and sit across from her.

"I just meant that now you are home full time I wanted you to know you don't need to hover." She flashes me the smile I've imprinted to my brain for all the dark moments. I smirk back and sit back with my arms folded."I mean you should find a hobby or something. Not that you're much of a hobby person. Would you like to do that today? Find a hobby? What about wood stuff? Are you okay spending today with me? Don't feel like you have to." She stops to breathe and the coffee pot clicks. I walk and pour black coffee half way up my mug before returning to the table.

"Sunflower, you've been waiting 30 years for me to come home and finally stay home." I wait for her to nod before I continue."I served my country. Now, I serve my wife. How about we go to the paint store today?" Leaning over my dark green cup, I blow on the hot liquid. She lights up and tries so hard to contain her excitement.

"That sounds lovely." She sips her coffee and beams at me over her cup.

I love this. Being able to spend every moment making her happy. Definitely my best mission yet. My eyes drift to the plaque she insisted on hanging up.

Master Chief Charles McNeal: 30 years of dedicated service to the United States Air Force

I close my eyes and begin the process of replacing dark memories with new, happier ones as she rambles on about paints.