Cylithria.com - 1 Word, 2 Words…

Our flat is above a restaurant. It is a gorgeous flat. The floorplan is open and spacious. Our rooms are on opposite sides of the living area. The front of the flat is a wall of windows overlooking a plaza. There is a fountain in the center of the plaza which both of us spend hours looking at.

In one corner of the living area stands an easel. Since moving abroad she has started painting and drawing again. Her artwork can now be found all over our flat. Seeing it as I enter the flat, I smile. I’m home. Sighing happily, I drop my bag by the door and kick the door closed with my foot. I then collapse against the closed door. I groan after a moment, realizing I cannot remain against the closed door forever.

It has been a long week. There was a problem with the Paris office which is what prompted my visit. The man who manages that office does not like me, so my unannounced arrival in his ‘territory’ did not make him happy, which in turn meant he did his best to make my life hell during my visit. It always makes for long, tiring visits to that office. I’m happy to be home now. Leaning down, I pick up my bag and carry it into my bedroom. Looking on the dresser, I see the vase of fresh flowers she has placed there. She always makes sure there are fresh flowers around the flat. Smiling at the flowers I walk over and lean closer to smell them.

Both of us left a lot and nothing at the same time when we moved abroad. Many people did not understand our decision. Even more disagreed with it.

My cellular rings shaking me out of my reverie. Shaking my head I look around for my bag, trying to recall where I dropped it. Muttering to myself I walk to the bed and pull the ringing phone out of it.

“Yeah?” I answer gruffly.

“Ma’am?” I hear one of my Gunnery Sergeants on the other end.

“Yes Gunny. What can I do for you?” I ask as I close my eyes and drop onto the bed.

Since moving abroad I have taken on much more of the responsibility of the Marine Corps unit she and I lead. She has officially taken an indefinite leave of absence thereby placing the responsibility on me. I had been pestering her for months to take the leave of absence. She kept refusing until Gunny asked her one day “Ma’am, why don’t you let her take over for a while?” After that call, she put in her LOA.

“Ma’am. I’m sorry to bother you; I know you just got home, but…..” Gunny goes on to explain the issue he has.

The phone call lasts ten minutes during which time she arrives back at the flat. I hear her moving softly across the hardwood floors looking for me. She pokes her head into my room and sees me pacing the floor as I talk to Gunny. Putting my hand over the mouthpiece of the phone, I say “Gunny” quietly. She smiles and waves that I should pass along her greetings. I smile and nod in return and continue my pacing.

After I disconnect the call with Gunny, I drop the phone onto my bed and make my way into the living room where she is sitting on the couch with her legs tucked under her as she holds a cup of coffee. She is staring at her easel in the corner with the look on her face that tells me she is going to either paint or draw soon.

“Watercolor.” She says without looking at me or away from the easel.

Nodding, I join her on the couch. On the table in front of the couch is a cup of coffee she has prepared for me. Reaching for the cup, I curse as I realize how hot it is.

“It’s hot.” She says laughing at my cursing.

“No shit.” I mutter, still cursing.

“Yep. It is.” She says laughing still.

“How are they?” She asks, looking over at me now. She is referring to the troops.

“They’re fine. They received some supplies they can’t use. Gunny wanted to know what they should do with them.” I answer as I look over at her.

“What’d they get that they can’t use?” She asks sipping her coffee.

“Parts for vehicles we don’t have. Someone is pissed at me, so they sent the wrong parts.” I say as I shake my head.

“Are you sure they’re pissed at you?” She asks, knowing her LOA angered many people in power.

“Yep. Pretty sure. I told Gunny to send the parts to the Pentagon.” I say with a sly smile.

“How many parts are we talking about here?” She asks warily.

“I think there were 100 crates of doors or some shit. It should piss off the powers that be.” I answer as I shake my head and roll my eyes.

“Damn girl. Good job.” She says laughing now.

“I learned from the best.” I answer with a single nod, which she calls my ‘official’ nod.