"Isabella asked how long you'll be staying," Mom said.
"My flight leaves two days after the wedding at 0400."
A collective groan sounded around the table.
“And you need to be at the airport two hours early?” Steven let out a whistle. “That’s early, but I’ll drive you.”
“Thanks, but I’ve got the rental car, so I’ll drive myself.”
“But we’re going to have a family dinner the evening before he leaves,” Mom said in a voice that didn’t allow for arguments. “So make sure you put it on your calendars.”
Everyone nodded.
"And when will you come home again?" Maria asked.
"I'm not sure." Damon fiddled with his knife as melancholy enveloped him. "I'll be deployed for six months."
"And after that?" His mom gave him an expectant look.
"After that, I'm due to re-up."
Hope lit up his mom's face. "And will you be re-upping?"
The younger kids had finished their food and were now downstairs in the playroom, so silence filled the dining room as all eyes focused on Damon.
His chest grew tight as the temperature in the dining room skyrocketed. His thoughts turned to Grace. He'd told her yesterday that maybe he would come home for good. Every time he visited home, it was harder and harder to leave. He had a feeling leaving this time might break him.
But the thought of leaving the Army broke his heart too.
His mom locked gazes with him then her head tilted to the side as she arched a brow.
He forced a smile. "I don't know."
It was the first time Damon had ever expressed doubt about re-upping, and it left him feeling conflicted.
Oblivious to his inner turmoil, everyone around the table seemed to breathe a relieved sigh.
"When you decide you're ready to come home, I'll find a place for you at the grocery store." Steven clapped him on the shoulder.
Damon resisted the urge to cringe. The grocery store had been in his dad's family for three generations. But it had never been his dad's passion. He'd preferred to work on cars. It wasn't Damon's either. Growing up, he'd chosen to help at the repair shop rather than at the store. He was relieved when Steven, who had a business degree, stepped in to manage the grocery store when Uncle Sid retired.
His mom continued to study his face. He wasn't sure what she saw there that intrigued her so, but he had a feeling this conversation wasn't over between the two of them.
And he was right.
Two hours later after his brothers and their families had returned to their homes, Damon sat on the couch with his phone in his hand, Grace's number on the screen. He spotted her and her mom sitting by Gabe and Paige at church this morning. But he didn't get the chance to talk to them. He wanted to call her just to hear her voice. Wanted to ask about her day.
Would she think he was being too pushy if he asked her out again already? There were so many things he wanted to experience with her, including riding four-wheelers and shooting guns, stargazing and canoeing at the lake. Hiking and making smores around a campfire.
"Is something wrong?"
Damon jumped at his mom's words. He hadn't seen her come in and sit in her recliner. Her fingers moved as fast as his mind as she worked the yarn with her crochet hook.
"Everything's fine."
"Are you sure? You're looking at your phone like it's a wild kitten. You want to cuddle it, but you're afraid it might scratch." Despite the movements of her fingers, her gaze never left his face. "Just call her."
He was tempted to feign ignorance and ask "Who?" But even after all these years of being gone, his mom still had the ability to read his mind.
