Just A Kiss (SOON TO BE PUBLISHED)

Chapter 17

JAMES

I laid in the infirmary. My leg propped up and bandaged. I was lucky though. Not that I was in the infirmary but that it was only a wound in my leg. There were about twenty other men there. Most with worst wounds. Men were missing limbs, had bandages on their faces, some were like me and just needed surgery and stitches. But some men couldn't move at all because they were in a full body cast.

I laid in my bed, eating my soup when the man in the bed beside me who had lost his left leg to an explosion on the battlefield looked over at me.

"Hey." The man said.

I turned to him after taking a sip of my soup. "Hey."

"Mark Wyatt." He introduced himself.

"James Robertson."

"What happened to you?" He asked, motioning to my leg.

I looked at my leg and then back at him. "I got shot while protecting my friend."

"I was in the path along with a group of other guys when a grenade was tossed. They said I was lucky to be alive. They said that if I was only a foot closer to where it landed I probably would be dead or impaired with serious brain damage. Do you believe in miracles?"

I don't know why but when he asked that question the first thought to come into my mind was my beloved Martha. I smiled and nodded. "Yes, I do."

"I think I was given a second chance."

"A second chance for what?"

"For life." He said it as if he was as sure about this more than anything. "I haven't lead the best life and maybe I was given a second chance so I could turn it all around." He paused for a moment before starting a new conversation. "How long have you been In the army?"

"A little over a year."

"Do you miss your family?"

I nodded. "Yeah." I turned my body towards him. "I have a younger sister. She's eighteen. And my mother and father are the greatest people I know. And I have the most beautiful fiancé."

"Tell me about your fiancé."

"Well, she is the greatest person I've ever come to know. She's from Italy. We met at church. And she is undeniably the most beautiful woman I've ever had the pleasure to know." I reached beside my bed into a drawer that held my belongings. I pulled out the picture of Martha. "This is her," I said and handed him the photo.

He eyed it carefully. "She sure is a looker." He handed me back the photo and I placed it beside my bed.

"She sure is."

"So, you're marrying her?"

I nodded. "Yeah. Once I get out of here."

"When are you planning to be sent back home?"

"Just within the next few days. I told them I wanted to finish up my recovery back home."

Mark nodded. "Where are you from?"

"North Carolina."

"California. My family owns a vineyard."

"That sounds nice." I thought it was nice but because I was weak it came out dull.

"Do me a favor."

I stared at him in confusion. "Depends on the favor."

"Go home. Marry that girl. And make sure to show her as much love as you can for the rest of your life."