Boot(s)

33- Boot

Sergeant Jackson

I woke up around 6 a.m. still passed out on the couch. I grumbled, swearing a little, wishing I hadn't drunk so much spiked apple cider at the Lee's Fall Fest dinner party. But mostly, the cursing was because I was alone.

I started to push myself off the couch, but a small post-it on the coffee table caught my attention. I recognized Bo's neat, blocky handwriting and picked it up immediately.

Didn't want to wake you. Sleep tight xo

I snorted, like he was here watching me read it, but of course I folded it up into a neat little square and tucked it safely into my near-empty bedside drawer as soon as I got back into bed.

The next time I woke, it was half-past ten. Christ. Why hadn't Bo woken me up on his way out? We always had coffee together. Sometimes breakfast, too, depending on his schedule. Grumbling, once again, like the 80-year-old man I truly was inside, I pushed myself out of bed and found my way into the kitchen. The lights were still on, and the coffee pot was full. I took a glance at Bo's planner, opened up to this week, sitting on the counter. It was Monday, and he usually took weekends off (he was Bobby O'Callahan, of course he made exceptions) so today was chock full. He probably wouldn't be home until seven. I tried to swallow down the stupid disappointment that was rising in the back of my throat. I wasn't very successful.

But then, another post-it with Bo's handwriting caught my eye. This one was stuck to the fridge. I tried my best not to injure myself as I all-but-sprinted to pry the stunningly bright orange paper off the cold metallic surface.

Had to get going into the city early. Made coffee, like you like it. Good luck with the research today. Can't wait to see you tonight.

This time I didn't snort. I didn't pretend to be unaffected because I simply couldn't. I grinned stupidly over the cup of black coffee I poured. I grinned stupidly over the toast I was buttering. And all day, as I was scanning the internet looking for jobs that would take a one-legged ex-military sergeant, I grinned stupidly.

By lunchtime, I had regained my composure and was even making a few phone calls to old buddies and retired commanding officers looking for advice, and frankly, someone to talk to who wasn't family. God, I loved Bo, Bella, and Jess, but besides them, doctors, and Nancy, I had hardly spoken to anyone at all since six months prior, when I'd been discharged.

A knock on the front door cut me off from my latest conversation with my old military buddy, Jack.

"Sorry, Jacko, someone's ringing the doorbell. Gotta run."

"The doorbell? Where the hell are you, man?"

I chuckled softly. If only he could see me now. "Story for another time. Love you, man. Talk later."

"Alright Booties. Love you. Call me soon."

I hung up and was heading for the door, but apparently whoever was knocking had gotten tired of waiting patiently on Bo's doorstep. The security system chimed just as I was making my way into the foyer.

All I could see though was a massive bouquet of flowers plopped right on top of two delicate-looking khaki-clad legs over a pair of slim brown loafers.

"Um, hello?"

The flowers suddenly shifted, exposing the person behind them. It was Nancy, of course, in her brown cardigan, matching shoes, and droopy glittery earrings. She was smiling brightly, her blonde hair pulled away from the crinkles next to her eyes with two large barrettes. The usual Gap t-shirts she wore underneath her cardigans was now replaced with a stiff white turtleneck. A brooch in the shape of a yellowing oak leaf was pinned to the side of her chest that wasn't covered by the bouquet.