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He teased, shaking my hand.
    “Yes sir,” I answered, grinning. “So why the trip out? I get to come home for a 10 day leave.”
    “Well,” Libby answered, holding my hand. “John Paul wanted to scope out his future replacement for when he retires.” John Paul chuckled as she explained. “And I talked my producers into letting me do a story on young men in the military. Mind if I interview you?” John Paul rolled his eyes as she batted her eyes at me. I laughed at them both as we walked towards the parking lot.
    “I couldn’t let her sulk around, all sad because she couldn’t come out here to see you,” John Paul told me as we walked. “She was so sad her ratings were dropping.” He grunted when Libby elbowed him in the stomach.
    “They were not!” She blurted, grinning widely.
    I hugged them both, happy that they had come. We went out to dinner that night and I laughed at John Paul and Libby when they complained about how expensive it was to eat out in California.
    “So are they sending you overseas?” John Paul asked when he’d finished eating.
    “Not for a while,” I answered and heard my mom sigh with relief. “I’ve got Military Occupation Specialty training first. That alone is almost two months. Then I head to Quantico for the Scout Sniper courses.”
    “Crack shot, eh son?” My dad asked, proudly.
    “My senior drill instructor seems to think so.”
    “I always said you were a great shot,” Libby commented as she squeezed my arm.
    “Shootin’ all those tin cans paid off, I guess,” I smiled as I shrugged. “I’m talking foreign language in Afghani, Iraqi and Arabic, among a few others.”
    “Why so many?” John Paul asked.
    “Well first off, I don’t know where they’re sending me yet and second, terrorists move practically unhindered through almost every country in the Middle East. It’s good to know more than a few languages,” I explained but frowned when I saw that Libby had stopped smiling.
    “Don’t worry, Libby. The most that I’ll be gone is two years.” Saying that only made her frown more so I shut my mouth. My dad ordered another round of drinks and tapped his glass before raising it for a toast. It seemed the entire restaurant had heard and all sat silent, watching him. He smiled at me, a tear creeping out of his eye.
    “To freedom,” he whispered, but the entire room heard him. Voices all around me echoed the word as glasses lifted.
    “Freedom,” I whispered as conversation picked back up around me. But in that moment, all my attention focused on Libby and the knowledge that she toasted freedom from two different things.

Chapter 8
     
     
    Two years later and I was still stateside. I’d finished my training and was now Corporal Colton Andrews. They were sending me to the Middle East soon and I was getting three weeks of leave before I had to report to Pendleton.
    The war on terror had escalated and though the fighting had diminished in Afghanistan, the violence in Iraq had grown to horrific proportions. More soldiers died every day and with grim resolution, I wanted to go home and say goodbye… in case I didn’t come back at all.
    I called Libby to let her know I was coming and surprised her by picking her up at the news station. She had worked up the ranks quickly, all while going to school to earn her bachelors in journalism. She was now the co-anchor for the morning news.
    I took her out for ice cream, something we’d done every summer of our teenage years. We sank right back into our normal routine, taking the back roads home and aiming for every muddy pothole along the way. I turned down the gravel road that led to my parent’s house then turned onto a newly cut driveway that led up the mountain. Libby sat up straighter in her seat when she saw us leaving the road.
    “When did this road get here?” She questioned, looking around as we drove up the winding drive.
    “It’s been that long since you’ve been back here?” I questioned.
    “I