Becca’s Soldier

“Oh, come on,” Becca said. “I thought we talked about this.” Becca rubbed her temples and closed her eyes.
“We did,” I said. “But, I was in Iraq, fighting for…”
“Freedom for whom?” Becca said. “Because the Iraqis are no less free today than they were before the illegal invasion.”
“That wasn’t my call to make. I just do as…”
“I know you just do as you’re told.” Becca rolled her eyes. “Don’t question anything, right?”
“It’s not like I have a choice,” I said.
“Tell me — did you kill any children over there?”
“What? Of course not!” I said. “What do you think I’m some kind of monster?” I grabbed her shoulders. “You know me.”
Becca broke free. “You leave…” Becca choked a lump in her throat and squeezed tears, making them fall faster. “Why don’t you see the world the way I do?”
“I’ll get out of the military,” I said. “I promise.”
“Oh,” Becca said. “You’re still not getting it. It’s not the army. It’s not you. It’s me.”
“I just found out I’m pregnant. I haven’t been myself lately. I guess I owe you an…”
“Stop it,” I said and embraced Becca. “You said you’re pregnant?”
Becca nodded. “You upset?”
“Upset? I’m thrilled!” I said. “What are we going to name him.”
Becca placed her hands on my chest. “Slow down.”
“We have to pick out clothes and a stroller and paint the spare room.”
“I’m done fighting for oil,” I said. “Oil. There, I said it.”
Becca threw her arms around my neck. “Oh, God. Thank you.”


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