Page 46 of Feeding Hope
It’s almost time for graduation! Are you excited? I know I am. I’ve missed you so much. Having you here, even for the short time before Infantry School, will be nice.
I’m very proud of you for doing so well on your tests. Tell Jamie, if he’d stop getting into trouble with the DIs, he’d have more time to study. (Not that he’ll listen.)
Counting the days to graduation!
Miss you lots, but not for long,
Lyrical.
Dear Sweetness,
Thank you for the picture. You did a great job with the dress. Will you wear it for graduation for me? All the guys said I’ve got the prettiest girl around, and I couldn’t agree more!
Yes, I’m thrilled graduation is getting closer. Suddenly the past thirteen weeks feel like they just started instead of feeling like they took forever to get here.
Did you get the schedule and all the information? Hope you can get off for the entire weekend, but know it’s okay if you can’t. You’re pretty new on the job, and Jamie and I understand if you can’t get the time off for everything. They did give you off for the ceremony, right?
I’m taking my own advice. I need to share the bad as well as the good with you. Jamie sent an invitation to our parents to come to graduation. We talked about it quite a bit, and while I wasn’t thrilled about it, I wasn’t stopping him from doing it either. He keeps hoping they’ll come to their senses, so he extended the olive branch.
Don’t worry about it too much. I doubt they will come, but I guess at least we can say we tried. Just didn’t want you to be sideswiped if a miracle happened and they actually showed up.
Hope to see you next Thursday for Family Day.
All my love,
Jesse.
Chapter Nine.
Lyrical – Graduation.
Family Day dawned warm and sunny. I wore the blue sundress Jesse liked so much, and I took my place along the route of the Motivational Run.
I almost didn’t recognize him when he ran past with his platoon. In thirteen weeks, the handsome boy I’d known in high school turned into a man of unspeakable beauty.
It was as if something shifted inside of him. He’d always been a good person. Nonjudgmental. Kind. Protective. But now he was something more. He seemed to carry himself so differently. Like he had a new confidence about him.
Perhaps he would have ultimately grown into the person I saw before me now, but the Marines began a metamorphosis in him which would only make him an even better person.
Later, we sat in the bleachers and watched the troops assemble before us in their Service Alphas.
“You are released to your families!”
With permission to break ranks, Marines beelined for their families waiting along the parade deck. I worried Jesse wouldn’t be able to find me in the sea of people, but I should have known better.
“Sweetness!” His voice rang out as he approached the bleachers, his arm waved madly, and a huge smile stretched across his face.
The phrase “My heart skipped a beat” was a total cliché, yet I swore I felt mine do just that. Before I knew it, I flew down the steps and launched myself into his arms. Our lips met, a hard pressure communicating happiness and relief that we held each other after our separation. As we kissed, he hugged me tightly, rocking us back and forth, as if afraid I’d disappear if he let go or stood still.
Eventually, he slid me down his front, and our eyes met. “Aww, sweetness. Don’t cry.” His hands framed my face, his thumbs wiping away my tears.
“They’re happy tears,” I assured him. “I missed you so much.”
His arms wrapped around me and pulled me close again as we exchanged another kiss. This one felt softer and deeper with a lot less desperation, but even more wonderful. Jesse was never particularly demonstrative in public, other than the typical gentlemanly behaviors—holding open doors, helping me out of a vehicle, a hand to the small of my back when guiding me somewhere. He would hold my hand, but kissing wasn’t something he seemed comfortable doing in public, so I soaked in the attention.
When he finally put me down, his eyes glanced around quickly, as if searching for anyone else he knew. For just a moment, the spark of excitement in his eyes dulled.
“They didn’t come, Jesse. I’m sorry,” I whispered.
