“Why do you need to have two parties?” I shake my head at that.
“We’re actually having three,” Dad says. “But the last one is just a dinner party with the Polsens.”
“Why three parties again?” I look at both of my parents, finishing off the fruit salad on my plate.
“Because we wanted to make a big deal out of our twenty-fifth anniversary,” Mom says with a shrug. “Plus, not everyone could make it tonight. We wanted to make sure we had at least one event that everyone could come to.”
“Why not make the big party the only one?” I grin. “I mean, unless you’re hoping to get triple the presents or something.”
“Because once we’d planned to have this one, we didn’t want to abandon it,” Mom replies. “Besides, it’s sort of a set-up, a pre-party for the big one.”
“I guess,” I say with a shrug.
“Now that we’ve got the plans all laid out, how’s your career going?” Dad refills his coffee mug.
“It’s going well,” I say. “I’m almost done with my term, so they’re offering me the chance to reenlist.”
“That’s good to hear, they don’t want to just shuffle you off,” Dad says.
I shrug. “I’m a specialist, so a little more valuable than I was a year ago,” I tell him. “But ultimately they just don’t want to get rid of anyone they don’t have to. Situation around the world’s pretty tense, so apart from grunts they’re trying to hold onto people.”
“Do you think you’ll do it?” Mom takes the coffee pot from Dad as she speaks, and waves it slightly in the direction of my mug. I nod that I’ll take a little more.
“I don’t know yet,” I admit. “I’ve got a couple of months before I have to really make a decision, right up until I have to do my discharge paperwork, but they’re already letting me know that staying in is an option.”
“Would there be a promotion down the line if you stayed in?”
I sipped my coffee, thinking about my dad’s question.
“Probably, at least in a while,” I tell him. “Not right away, but I’m already a specialist, so they’d want to push me to do even more, eventually.”
“What would getting out look like for you? Maybe you could go for your degree. The military will pay for that, after all,” Mom points out.
“I don’t know what I’d do if I got out,” I say. “I could go for a degree, but I don’t even know what I’d want to do.” That was the big question, what was I worth outside of the army?
“You’ve got some time to think about it,” Dad points out. “Weigh the pros and cons, figure out what works best for you.”
“Definitely,” I agree. “It’s a big decision, you know?”
“I’d love to have you back home, at least for a good little while,” Mom says. “You could get a job in town. I’m sure a lot of places around here hire vets.”
“Just because he leaves the army doesn’t mean he has to come home,” Dad points out. “I think it’d be good for Zane to get a fresh start altogether if he leaves.”
“That would depend on me getting a job right out of the army,” I say. “And I don’t know who would want to hire me.”
“Lots of people would want to hire you,” Mom insists.
“Let’s talk about something else,” I suggest. “I’ve got time ahead of me. Before I really talk about this I need to figure out what both things are going to look like.”
I hear a knock at the back door, a few yards away from me, and Mom gets up. It’s Nadine and Harper. I take a moment to look Harper over again in decent light. She’s got her long, dark hair in two braids and she’s in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. She makes both pieces of clothing look good enough that the brand should have paid her for wearing them.
When did she get so hot?
The girl I’d known all my life had always been sort of pretty, but not outright hot. This woman standing in my kitchen, talking to my mom, is someone I would have probably singled out at a base bar, at least to chat her up.
“Okay,” Nadine says. “Where do we get started on decorating this place?” I grab my plate and take it to the sink, preparing myself for a long, long day ahead.
“We need to clean up breakfast first,” Mom says. “And I’ve got some decorations ready to put up. Would either of you want to help me with some of the last-minute food prep?”
I put my plate in the sink, finish my coffee and start grabbing the rest of the dishes off the table to wash them. If nothing else, the army has taught me that no one doesn’t appreciate someone else doing the cleaning.