Michael ran up the stairs to get to their apartment. It was the last leg, so to speak, of his workout. The PJ regimen alternated push-ups with a combination of sprints, and only took him half an hour to get a good sweat. For good measure, he always added another five minutes of core workout to help strengthen the broken back that had ended his military service.
It was easier talking about that than it was the traumatic brain injury sustained during the same crash. He didn’t want to come across as some kind of head case. The doctors hadn’t been able to give him a long-term prognosis for his brain injury, but they had pulled the plug on his service. When you have blurry vision, and dizziness, and difficulty concentrating, you can’t do the duties required of a PJ. The decision to leave the military hadn’t been his, but Michael had come to look at the discharge as a blessing. It had allowed him to marry Mona and start a new life. Each of them had helped the other with their injuries. Mona’s wounds had been even more serious than his.
He announced his presence at the door by rapping out “shave and a haircut—two bits,” and then unlocked the dead bolt. Mona met him at the door, where they kissed.
“It is good to have you home, husband,” she said.
Michael found himself smiling, as he usually did, at Mona’s form of address to him. He still wasn’t sure if it was a cultural thing, or Mona’s way of speaking. Mona’s father had been educated in England, but had refused to be part of the Assyrian diaspora, and had returned to his homeland in Iraq. It was her father who had taught Mona her flawless English.
“It is good to be home, wife,” he said, offering quaint for quaint. “But I know why you’re so glad to see me.”
He handed her the two takeout bags he was holding. “Cuban pica-dillo and black beans and rice.”
The Cuban picadillo was similar to one of her favorite Assyrian entrees. On Michael’s nights to “cook,” it was one of his go-to dishes.
“You read my mind.”
“As I’m reading it right now. That’s why I’ll shower before we eat.”
“That is not something to which I will object.”
They kissed again, and Michael went and showered. In the military he’d grown used to showering in under two minutes. Even now, his showers held to that time frame. Within five minutes he was clean, dressed, and back out in the living room. By then Mona had doctored the dishes with a few of her favorite condiments, adding a spritz of lime to the rice and some coriander seasoning to the picadillo. As she served up the dishes, each smiled at the other.
“Good day?” Michael asked.
“Busy day, mostly spent in front of the computer.”
“Sounds like we had a similar day then.”
“I doubt you were learning about scabies.”
“I don’t even know what scabies are.”
“It is a condition caused by an infestation of microscopic mites that have burrowed under the skin, and shows itself through bumps or redness.”
“If I wasn’t a hypochondriac before you started nursing school, I’ll surely be one by the time you become an RN.”
“Please wait until next semester before manifesting any symptoms, because that’s when I will be taking a class on health anxiety.”
Michael stuck his tongue out at her. Instead of responding in kind, Mona peered intently at his tongue and said, “Did you know the color of your tongue can say many things about your health? Its shape, texture, and color all tell stories.”
“And what does my tongue say?”
“It says you are incorrigible.”
Both of them tried to hide their smiles; both failed.
Fate had brought the couple together not once, but twice. Two days after Michael’s combat search and rescue team had flown a seriously injured Mona to the Air Force hospital in Belad, Michael had been brought there for his own injuries. Their unusual courtship had been conducted while both of them were convalescing. Adjusting to life after the military hadn’t been easy for Michael, but he knew his adjustment was a cakewalk compared to Mona’s. She had given up her world to join Michael in his. In many ways they were opposites in looks and temperament, but neither could now imagine life without the other.
“Did you happen to watch CNN today?”
Mona shook her head. “The wider world was ignored in favor of the study of microorganisms, germs, and bacteria.”
“You missed Deke on national news. He was talking about the Welcome Mat Hospitality case that I’m now working on. Or maybe I should say he was not talking about it, or trying to not talk about.”
“You are being cryptic, husband.”
“The judge on the case issued a gag order, and Deke wasn’t supposed to discuss of any its particulars. But when the media started asking him questions, he didn’t exactly comply with the order.”
“Is that bad?”
“There’s going to be some fallout. How much, I don’t know.”
“You approve of what he did?”
“I respect what he did.” Michael thought about it a little more, nodded, and said, “He’s the kind of guy you’d want to go into battle with.”
Those were not words that he offered up lightly.
“I am proud that you have taken on this case,” she said. “It is too easy, and too commonplace, for innocent people to get caught up in terrible circumstances and be placed in abhorrent situations.”
It was her own biography, Michael knew. She had been caught up in a war that had killed her family, and almost killed her. “It’s a good mission.”
It didn’t matter that Michael was no longer a PJ. To him, everything was still a mission.