Thanks to Peggy and her connections, the weeks following Shawn’s death were well managed. She and her friends handled the bureaucratic red tape relieving Shawn’s family and Stacy to grieve in peace. Shawn was like a second son to Peggy….he was Charlie’s twin, he’s compliment. To see them torn apart by a senseless act of violence, at a time when they needed one another, broke her heart.


Charlie: her beautiful son. She’d raised him to be strong and sensible, compassionate and loyal. But what she hadn’t gambled on was his inability to emote. He didn’t cry a single tear when Paula gave him the news; he hardly acknowledged it at all. When the officials came to the apartment to collect any classified information, everyone thought that would be his breaking point but it wasn’t. He sat and watched them sort through Shawn’s belongs without flinching.


Surely, it would happen when he’d pickup Shawn’s uniforms from the dry cleaners’, but it didn’t. He gave one uniform to Stacy and shipped the others to Shawn’s family. Everyone, including the brass, tried reaching out to him but he kept them at arm’s length. Peggy stepped in but it was useless. She warned Paula that when he crashed, it would be devastating.


For the time being, Charlie focused on work and taking care of the people around him especially Stacy. Paula didn’t push him, she allowed him to grieve in his own way.



The funeral arrangements were made: The Honor Guard from Andrews AFB would escort Shawn’s flag draped coffin to Gunter where it would be met by his Honor Guard team and escorted to Spokane. Shawn’s friends as well as one hundred and fifty some odd personnel from Gunter and other Honor Guard teams bearing the colors met his flight on the tarmac.


There wasn’t a stir, not even the wind dared to blow. Some twenty yards away, Stacy braced herself against Paula and Shawn’s sister, Brittney. His father stood between Lisa and Mo. All in attendance stood at attention while the large military plane came to rest behind a shiny black hearse with its rear door open ready to receive Shawn’s coffin. The visiting Honor Guard marched to plane and flanked either side of the fuselage.


As the plane’s cargo ramp lowered, the Honor Guard slowly raised a salute to the brim of their hats. Everyone else followed.


When Shawn’s team appeared carrying his coffin, everyone was reduced to bone shattering tears. It had been easier to imagine him on a TDY; he’d be coming home soon. But seeing his flag draped coffin sent everyone crashing back to reality—there would be no more pretending.

Try as she may, Stacy couldn’t maintain her salute; she cried sorrowfully in Paula’s arms. Paula held her as tightly as possible. They supported one another. Seeing the stream of tears streaking the stone-faced Guardsmen was enough to break anyone’s heart.


“Paula, help me please,” Stacy wept repeatedly. “I can’t do this alone. I’m not strong enough”


Paula could barely speak through her tears. “I’m here. I won’t leave you.”


Once the coffin was placed in the hearse, Gunter’s Guard gave their deceased comrade a painfully slow salute. The Guardsmen helped the overwhelmed attendees to the waiting limos. Once everyone was in place, the limos fell in line behind the hearse and made its slow procession to the funeral home. They were greeted hundreds upon hundreds of saluting Military and civilian lining the streets paying their respects.


That night Charlie volunteered to stand watch over his friend.



                                          ******



Peggy was, by now, afraid for Charlie. She waited until everyone retired to bed and drive to the funeral home. As expected, he stood at the head of the coffin. Peggy took a seat on the front pew and awaited the change of guard; only then did Charlie acknowledge her presence.


He gave a weak smile and offered Peggy his arm and they strolled out of the parlor. Peggy knew better than to attempt meaningless banter with him, he would clam up. She came straight to the point.


“Have you cried?” she asked as they entered the coatroom.


“No,” he fished for their coats amongst the throngs.


Peggy dreaded his reply. “Charlie, you have to make your peace with Shawn before tomorrow,” she said softly. “This wasn’t your fault. You did the right thing; you were trying to send him home.” She paused when his eyes began to tear. “No one else is here. I’ll relieve the guard and give you some time alone.”


He didn’t want to listen to her but he was trapped—he wanted to be left alone. But under Peggy’s fermentable eye, his iron will gave way to his raw emotions. He didn’t have the strength to run from his feelings anymore. He simply nodded.


Peggy went to relieve the Airmen; she would stand guard while Charlie spoke to Shawn. He knelt and placed his gloved hand over the flag draping. He tried asking for forgiveness but forgiveness for what? Had their roles been reversed, Shawn would’ve taken the California assignment. He tried asking for strength but couldn’t form the words. Finally, he collapsed in grief, slumped and seized by sorrow.


Something indescribably profound happens when a man cries. It is beyond linguistic expression, words fail to capture the essence of their agony. Tears don’t come easily to men. Boys may cry, but men, they seldom do. Sadly, this is how we expect it to be. It is a behavior still defined by stigma and gender expectations. But crying isn’t a sign of weakness; on the contrary, when a man cries the uncommon cry, we know just how strong he is.


                                   ******


For Paula the following day passed in a blur: The tearful grave side service, the Guard laying Shawn to rest, the 21 gun salute, the missing man fly over, the presenting of the flag to Stacy, the pain riddled face of Shawn’s father burying his only son as the bugler played “taps”. The funeral was done to perfection however; there was a moment of clarity for Paula, a moment when she knew Charlie would heal completely and intact.


They were Charlie’s last words during the service: “Until we meet again, may God hold you in the palm of His hand.”


Shawn would have been proud.



                                ******



Paula peered across the skyline from their hotel window. Homecoming was bittersweet. Or maybe it was just what she needed; it was too soon to tell. Everything had changed yet everything had remained the same…the longer she stayed away from Spokane, the weaker her connection with it became. None of her siblings and very few of her friends still lived in the area.


Some would argue that ‘home’ is suspended in a past time, and once you’ve left, you can return to find the things unchanged. You’re sucked into a space-time continuum wherein you are your younger self, and simultaneously the person you are at present. Paula saw the matter quite differently: She and home had changed. She was neither the needy young lady who married to better her situation nor was she the untrusting overly ambitious diva who’d claimed her Mr. Fix-it.


Paula smiled to herself. The events over the last couple of years had reshaped her—they were more profound than any of the years past. She’d seen the inhumanity of the world through the uncloaked eyes of the servicemen. Yet in that short time, she’d also learned the true meaning of forgiveness, conditional love and friendship. These experiences brought her to where she was today—staring out across the skyline of a city she hardly recognized.


One thing was for certain: She missed her parents. They may not have been the wealthiest family but by no means were they poor nor was she ashamed of them. Yes, they’d been overbearing at times but she never felt unloved; in that sense, she and Charlie were kindred. As an only child, Charlie was the center of his parents’ world. He lived in the spotlight and having two high ranking parents did little to ease any predestined expectations. Paula knew the weight of expectations. She’d grown weary of her parents “Push for excellence” lectures.


The two families couldn’t have been more different. Whereas Paula came from a large family of educators who valued self-betterment through knowledge, Charlie came from small family of career Servicemen who, once educated, preached integrity through service of one’s country.


She wanted to introduce Charlie’s family to hers but the timing was all wrong. Her parents returned from Kansas shortly after the funeral and hadn’t settled in, her siblings were living aboard, and everyone was dealing with the national tragedy—in short their spirits were low. Paula would’ve postponed their meeting but Peggy insisted on having dinner with them. Paula conceded and made reservations at a local Greek restaurant.


Charlie and Paula left their ‘band of brothers’ to look after Shawn’s family, and Stacy in the arms of an Ativan cocktail; she would be asleep in no time. By the time they arrived at the restaurant their parents had introduced themselves and were swapping their children’s war stories. Paula’s parents, Maxwell and Grace, and Charlie’s parents seemed like old friends rather than new acquaintances; so much so, the couple hardly got a word in edgewise.


Paula’s mother was a darker version of Peggy. It was no wonder they meshed. Admittedly, she was nervous about their fathers. The only bone of contention would be Maxwell’s refusal to join the service during wartime. He was a scholar and activist with firm political beliefs not a fighter. Astonishingly, Charles Sr. didn’t bat an eye at this revelation, stating, “Each man serves his country in his own way.”


What the hell, Paula thought. Was that it?! Where was patriotic chest pounding rhetoric? She was sorely disappointed, the evening had gone well. Her parents adored Charlie; he could do no wrong as far as they were concerned. Luckily, Paula’s steadiness had Charlie’s folks thinking she walked on water and during the course of the evening she’d do nothing to prove otherwise.


Looking around the table at the smiling faces and relaxed manners, Peggy wagered the outing had served its purpose: It lifted the veil of melancholy for a few precious hours. By the end of the night even Charlie was in better spirits, he’d found a resumption of a smile.



As for Charlie, it gave him the chance to pull Maxwell aside and properly ask him for his blessing; he meant to ask Paula to marry him when they returned home.


Maxwell welcomed Charlie into their growing fold without hesitation.


With that, he couldn’t propose with either of the other rings he’d purchased which meant it was back to the jewelry store the next day. Thankfully Peggy and Grace were on hand for guidance. Classic and elegant was what they looked for and they found it: a two carat Princess Cut diamond flanked by a carat on either side, set in platinum.


Three rings for one woman! Charlie saw his checking account drying up. He couldn’t afford anymore folly—one more ring purchase and he’d be broke.



Back at Brittany’s house, Paula helped Stacy pack her bags. Brittany tried to persuade her to stay longer but Stacy was ready to return home; her parents were coming to town within the week. Paula sat on the bed folding Stacy’s clothes and watched her maneuver her belly into a comfortable position as she reclined beside her. Paula laughed.


“What are you laughing about?” Stacy wiggled.


“I’m laughing at you,” Paula choked back a laugh. “You look like you’re in pain.”


“I am in pain,” she fell back exhausted. “I can’t believe he knocked me up and died; with twins no less.” She smiled. “It figures he’d do something so selfish.”


“I don’t think he meant to die, Stace.”


Stacy ran her hand over her belly. “Well, maybe he didn’t but I’m still kicking his ass when I see him again.” She watched Paula carefully. “Paula,” she said softly. “I hope you and Charlie have a long life together. I hope you appreciate what you have. He loves you so much.”


“I know he does and I’m thankful for him each and every day.”


“Charlie’s a good guy.” She grinned.


“And so was Shawn.”

Stacy took a deep breath. “Yeah, he was. Well, besides getting himself killed and making me into a baby-momma.”


Paula gave a throaty chuckle “You should never say that word again.”


Stacy curled into Paula’s side. “Can I ask a favor?”


“Anything.”


“Do you mind if I stay with you a little while longer? I’m not ready to live alone…not just yet.”


Paula smiled back at her friend. “You can stay as long as you’d like.”


“Thanks,” she said lithely. “Now you’ll never get rid of me.”


“Please, I knew you wouldn’t leave. You didn’t fool me.”


Busted, Stacy averted her eyes. “I’m sleepy. Turn out the light and hold me.”


Paula reached for the light switch. “Stacy, that’s just about the gayest thing I’ve heard all day.


“Shut up and hold me.”