Happy Homecomings

"Hey, Clara," he said with a big smile, giving his teammate a heartfelt hug. "Hey, Jim," he said, holding his hand out to Clara's husband. Jim Morrow was also Army, a Major, but in a different battalion and so he'd stayed here with their kids while Clara deployed.

"Good to see you, man," Jim answered. "And mostly in one piece," he added with a grin as he cocked his head to see the still-healing scar at Ray's temple.

Ray laughed. "Well, it might not have been one piece if Clara hadn't clamped a bandage on it and kept me from banging my head against something while we bounced around."

"Yeah, I heard it was a hell of a ride," said Jim. He put his arm around Clara's shoulders and pulled her tight. "You guys did good," he said seriously before kissing the top of her head.

"You know what?" said Amber. "Ray has told me what happened, but every time I hear the story, I seem to learn something new. Why do I feel like there was something more than, 'Oh, I just got hit by a little piece of metal. Clara bandaged me up on the return drive, and our C.O., Dr. Cunningham gave me a few stitches when we got back.'"

The way she delivered the lines in perfect imitation of Ray's self-deprecating tone had the Morrows and the other medical folks around them laughing out loud.

Jim looked at Clara and said, "Well, honey, you're the only witness here, you should fill her in on MMA Ray." There was more laughter from the group.

"MMA Ray?" said Amber.

Clara Morrow began to speak, but her husband Jim put a light touch on her arm, stopping her. Looking around, he spotted their 13-year-old twins hovering on the edge of the small group. He gave them a nod. The two girls frowned, they really wanted to hear the stories about what had happened to their mom while she was in Iraq. But their dad had told them that some emotional subjects might come up at the barbecue that wouldn't be appropriate for kids. They flounced to show their disgust at being excluded, but then they rounded up the four or five younger children around them and led them all over to the playground area.

Chapter 23

Jim Morrow looked back at his wife and said with a wry smile, "MMA Ray."

"I'm going to go find us a couple of beers, okay honey?" Ray said resignedly, knowing there was no way to stop the story swapping. "Clara, Jim, anything for you?" Jim nodded his head yes, while Clara shook a no.

Ray heard the start of the story as he walked toward some signs that said Drinks. He hoped they wouldn't exaggerate it too much or he'd be in Dutch for sugarcoating even more than Savannah Slim, Clem Evans.

"Okay," said Clara, half reluctantly. "But I'm skipping past the scariest stuff."

"Agreed," replied Amber. "That part I have heard enough of. At least for now."

"Okay, so the attack is mostly over and that crazy Pham kid has laid Sergeant Joya out on the floor of the truck. Ray gets in and that other crazy kid, Evans, starts hauling ass backwards down this road with a high embankment on one side and a dry riverbed on the other."

"I heard he was from North Carolina," interjected one of the other listeners. "Probably grew up on NASCAR and demolition derbies." That got a few chuckles.

Georgia, thought Amber, but she let it go.

"Anyway," picked up Clara, "we're bouncing all over the place and me and our Terp, Ahmed, are trying to keep each other and poor Sergeant Joya from banging around like peas in a tin can, while Ray pulls out a knife and cuts off Khaled's pants leg. There's lots of blood and I can see some shrapnel sticking out. Then bang! We slam up against the embankment or something because we all go flying and Ray bangs up hard against an equipment box."

"I'll tell you what," said Jim. "Based on the noise and movement you described, I wouldn't be surprised if you didn't get hit with another RPG."

Clara suddenly registered the blood draining from Amber's face. "Oh, honey," she said. "I'm sorry." She took her friend's arm and sat her on a picnic bench. "We've been talking about this whole thing so much, for the reports and all, that I've lost my perspective. I'll stop now."

"No, no, go on," insisted Amber. Then she gave a short laugh. "After all, we're already past the scary stuff, right?"

"Yeah, go on," came out of the gathered crowd. Obviously, Amber wasn't the only one who hadn't heard a full firsthand report.

Clara considered for a moment and then carried on.

"We get ourselves straightened out and back to working on Joya. Like I said, it looked pretty bad. I've got a medical kit in my lap and I'm handing compresses and bandages to Ray who's wrapping up the leg to slow the bleeding. Then I realize some blood is falling on the outside of the bandages and I look up and see Ray's got this flap of skin hanging down and blood streaming down his cheek. I'd been so focused on Joya that I hadn't noticed it when Ray got in, so I thought he'd just cut himself with his own knife during the bumping. I say, 'Ray, Ray, your face.' But he's just staring down at the sergeant's leg and muttering, 'This one's a bad one, gotta stabilize it or it's really going to rip him up.'

"Ahmed is already cradling Joya's head and I give him the first aid kit and tell him to hand Ray whatever he asks for. Then I grab a couple of compresses myself and kneel behind Ray. He's winding cloth tape between and around these two wicked pieces of metal poking through Joya's foot and ankle. The boot's mostly torn away and he's trying to get them locked into place. I don't think he even noticed me peeling that flap of skin back into place and then putting a compress against it and pressing to stop the bleeding.

"The truck finally stops and I'm thinking, thank God. But it was just Evans finally getting us turned around so we can drive frontwards. We get shaken around pretty good doing that and one jolt bangs the sergeant's shrapnel against the floor and he starts pulling and kicking his leg, he's really out of it by then. Of course, with every movement, the metal's causing greater damage. So, Ray lies down on his side wraps his arm around Joya's ankle and his legs around the trooper's thigh, with one foot up in his abdomen to hold him in place. And he tells Ahmed to do the same thing with Joya's upper body to keep him from hitting out or thrashing around. And they do that until we finally come to a paved road and can stop and get him secured to a stretcher.

"Meanwhile, Specialist Pham has been looking out the back window, calling out directions for Evans while he's driving backwards, right? Once we get turned around, and she's sure no one's following us, she comes over, sits on the bench, and starts looking the guys up and down. Then, cool as a cucumber, like we weren't hauling ass down a desert road in a shot-up patrol vehicle, she says, 'Hey, Doc, you ever fight MMA? Because that's one sweet leg lock you've got on the Sarge.'"

"And voila," said Jim among the general laughter, "MMA Ray."

MMA Ray had returned in time to hear the end of the story and he blushed a bit as people laughed and slapped him on the shoulder as he handed beers to Amber and Jim. He sat down next to his wife and took a swig from his own bottle. Amber opened her mouth to say something to him when another voice cut in from the edge of the group.

"Hey, are y'all talking about me?"

The crowd parted to show a heavily muscled, dark-skinned man leaning on crutches.

Chapter 24

"Joya!" said Ray as he jumped to his feet. The injured man tucked both crutches under his left armpit and he and Ray clasped right hands and bumped chests in a bro' hug. Then Clara was there, taking care about his crutches, but still wrapping her arms around him and giving him a squeeze.

"Hey, Dude," Ray heard from over his right shoulder. It was Staff Sergeant Jason Speyer, one of the two medics from the mission. "Hey, Cap," he smiled at Ray as he stepped past to greet the injured soldier.

"Man, it's good to see you up and about," said Speyer, a blonde, surfer looking guy who was half a head shorter and forty pounds lighter than the powerful Joya.

"Well," said Joya, "When I heard about the party, I had my boys come and bust me out of Landstuhl." Landstuhl Regional Medical Center was America's biggest military hospital in Europe, famous as the place where injured soldiers and released hostages went for their preliminary medical screenings before heading on to the U.S.

As he said it, the big guy swept his arm to the side and Ray and Amber saw that he wasn't alone. A few medical company people stepped aside, and Joya's posse closed in on their Sergeant's flank. Specialist Franklin Johnson, who'd driven his Humvee backwards for two klicks under fire to protect Jason Speyer and the other medic, Wanda Hemson. Private First Class, now Corporal, Clement Evans, who'd driven his patrol vehicle directly into the line of fire to cover Joya's rescue from his crippled Humvee. And PFC George Tompkins, the machine gunner who had cleared away the bad guys so they could all escape.

Amber had already risen to her feet to prepare to meet Sergeant Joya, now she squealed and ran forward. "My heroes!"

Johnson was on the far right of the lineup, Amber's left, and she stepped right in front of the young, light-skinned Black man, whom she'd only ever met on a Zoom call. She put a hand on each cheek and kissed him square on the lips. "Welcome home, Franklin."

"Th-thank you, ma'am" the stunned soldier said.

"Clem," Amber said warmly as she stepped to the next man. By God, the boy had grown since she'd last seen him in person, he seemed at least an inch taller, about 6' 1", and closer to 170 than the skinny 155 she'd put him at last year. "Welcome home," she said before also taking his face into her hands and kissing him as she'd done Johnson. Although it didn't take a stopwatch to know he got a couple of extra seconds. But she did breakaway before things got awkward.

"And George!" she declared, stepping toward the third young soldier. But she stopped herself before repeating the welcome home kiss when she noticed the pretty young thing standing behind Tompkins's shoulder. "Sorry," she giggled. "I'm not being very P-C, am I?"

"Mrs. Sempels, right?" asked the woman who seemed no more than twenty at the most. Amber nodded with a smile. "Oh, hell, go ahead," said the young woman Amber would soon find out was George Tompkins's fiancée.

With a big smile on her face, Amber took yet another baby-faced boy between her palms and planted a long, firm kiss on his lips. Then she moved her lips near his ear and whispered, "I know what you did was very hard, but thank you." When she broke away there was a shine in her eyes and a blazing red glow on George's cheeks.

"Well, good," burst out a voice from behind and to the other side of Khaled Joya.

Amber looked over and saw two Black women stepping up side by side. One was around her height of 5' 8", the other an inch or two shorter, but each had several pounds on her. The taller one seemed big like a man who was naturally big, with power in her bones and muscles. The other was much softer, but in a way that could easily draw the power out of a man's bones and muscles. The strong looking one was Sergeant First Class Wanda Hemson, whom she'd known for two years now. Seeing her brought a fresh smile to Amber's face. But it was the other woman who had spoken, a dark-skinned Rubenesque beauty that Amber didn't know.

"There's been someone I've been wanting to kiss and now I know it's all right." And with that, the Black stranger strode past Khaled and right up to Ray.

"Thank you for saving my man's foot, leg, and maybe life." She copied Amber and grabbed the shocked man's face to hers and gave him a kiss that put even Amber's long smooch with Clem Evans to shame.

Ray couldn't believe how immediately he registered the unique feeling of the large, full lips. He damned near closed his eyes, but instead kept them locked open and looked over the woman's shoulder to Khaled Joya, her apparent man. Fortunately, the big man just smiled at Ray's discomfiture. Apparently, he'd seen it before and wasn't worried about it.

"Um, my pleasure," mumbled Ray when she broke the lip lock.

"I'm Corinne Joya by the way," the dark beauty said as she took a step back and held out her hand.

Ray took it and said, "Nice to meet you, Corinne." Managing to recover from the fluster of the kiss, he added, "And as many times as Khaled had my back down there, I'm only glad I was able to help."

"Had your back how many times?" asked Amber, who had drifted over during the kiss. "Am I going to hear more tales of derring-do that my husband has neglected to share?"

Ray responded quickly. "No, not this time. Khaled was our primary security lead on many of our missions and just having his big, bad ass around was enough to keep everybody on their best behavior."

Khaled snorted. "Bad ass. Bad ass until it really counted."

Wanda Hemson put a hand on the man's shoulder. "Stop talking bullshit," she said. Evidently, she was close enough friends with the Joyas to speak bluntly.

"I know you would have liked to go over and kick those bastards' asses personally, but nobody's bad ass enough to beat an RPG."

"And very few are bad ass enough to keep driving a crippled truck with pieces of metal in their foot," added Ray. "But you did and got us out of the kill zone before they could shoot out our windows."

Khaled let the darkness go and smiled. "And thanks to you keeping those pieces of metal from tearing me up further, they say I'll recover more than 90 percent of the feeling and control of my foot and can stay in the Army if I want."

"Hey, that's great!" said Ray.

"It appears I still have one more hero to say thank you to," Amber said, with a look to Corinne Joya. The Black woman smiled and nodded, and the White woman gave a long, tender kiss to the Afghan American soldier who'd suffered the most of all of them.

Chapter 25

For the rest of the afternoon everyone enjoyed the good food and good company. Ray and Amber orbited mostly around their medical company colleagues and their now-adopted security providers. But they also wandered further afield and mingled with friends and patients, parents and students, and random people they knew from the community.

At one point Amber and Ray, Clara and Jim Morrow, Wanda Hemson and her girlfriend Trina, Khaled and Corinne Joya, and Clem Evans and his apparent sidekick Franklin Johnson were all seated together at a large picnic table. They were enjoying the various pies and cakes that had been added to the potluck. The friendly conversation turned to the subject of summer vacations.

When it got around to Clem, he told those who didn't know, that Hue Lan Pham was coming over for the awards ceremony and that afterward he and she were going to take some leave together.

"Wow," said Clara, "You two together? Are we seeing the next Fast and Furious love story? Where are you off to, mountain climbing in the Alps or racing Formula One at the Nürburgring?"

Clem laughed. "Probably something a little quieter this time around. She's never been to Germany before, so we may just do some normal tourist stuff, like visiting Munich and the Neuschwanstein Castle. We haven't completely decided yet."

Amber and Ray exchanged a glance. Not a word about Adriatic nudist resorts. Clem really was keeping things as low profile as he could.

"You two are going on leave right after the awards ceremony too, aren't you?" Clara asked Ray. "Gonna head back to the States?"

Amber replied for the couple. "Actually, we've heard some really good things about the beaches in Croatia, so we're going to a resort there for a few days before going across to the other side of the Adriatic and visiting Venice."

"You'll have to tell us all about it," said Wanda's girlfriend, Trina. "We've been talking about a beach vacation for a long time. We're looking at Greece and Spain, but I hear prices are good in Croatia."

Amber looked down the table at Trina as she spoke, but beyond the woman she saw the big smile on Clem's face before he covered it by taking a forkful of chocolate cake.

As conversation moved on to other subjects, Wanda Hemson asked, "What's the latest on Ahmed Saleh?" She was talking about the medical company's Iraqi interpreter, or Terp, who had gone out on some twenty missions with them, including after the fire fight. Her question was mostly directed to Captain Morrow, who'd taken the lead in trying to get Ahmed into the special visa program that would allow him to emigrate to the U.S. with his family.

"It's going well," said Clara. She put her hand on top of her husband's on the table. "The paperwork is maddening, but Jim's been through it with his terps from Afghanistan and he helped me a ton with Ahmed's package. And it looks like he'll have his final State Department interview before the summer's over."

That brought cheers from the table and thank yous and congratulations to the Morrows.

Chapter 26

Later that evening, Ray and Amber lay in bed, recounting all the meet ups and conversations of the day. They were both ecstatic over how well everybody was doing after such a long, difficult year. George Tompkins and Khaled Joya were still talking to therapists as they processed what they'd been through, but both men appeared to be doing well. And of course, hearing that Khaled's physical therapy was going great had been wonderful news. And to top it off, learning that their terp Ahmed was well on his way to a new life for him and his family in the U.S. was icing on a very tasty cake.

Ray actually used that phrase, and it reminded Amber of how Clem Evans had shoved a big piece of chocolate cake into his mouth to cover up the huge grin on his face.

She rolled onto her side and put a hand on Ray's solid chest. "Did you catch the smile on Clem's face when we said were going to Croatia?"

"The cat that ate the canary," confirmed Ray. "Almost as big as the one he had after you kissed him. Right in front of everybody," he added with mock disapproval.

She rolled closer and threw her left leg over the top of his. "Speaking of kisses," she said as she put a fingertip to his lips. "What was that with Corinne Joya? I wasn't sure if you were going to pass out or come in your pants."

Ray laughed.

Amber slid upwards and put her lips where her fingertip had been. Mrs. Sempels had fine, full lips. At least she had thought so until she had seen Mrs. Joya's.

"Have you ever kissed a Black woman before?" she said softly, transferring the words directly from her lips to his.

"No."

The speed with which he answered told Amber that he'd already searched his memory earlier in the day for the answer to that question for himself.

"Was it as nice as it looked?"

"Yes."

Her hand had moved from lips back to chest, across his firm midriff, through his pubes, to the base of his cock. Now her mouth followed the same path. As she kissed her way over a nipple, she cooed, "Have you ever kissed a Vietnamese woman?"

Ray husked out a small, "No."

"Would you like to?"

Ray had to strain to hear. Not only because she was speaking into his pubic patch, but because of the sound of rushing blood in his ears. He said nothing.

"How would that feel?" Amber asked, now apparently more to herself than her husband. "Kissing one, then the other. Those large, soft wonders and that small, puffy pout. Back and forth, trying to adjust to one, then the other. One. Then the other." She spoke the words directly against the shaft of his swollen rod, her lips moving up and down as if playing a flesh harmonica.

"Can you imagine those big, beautiful lips here?" These words were louder, clearer, and apparently meant for him. He hoped the question was still rhetorical.