A Marine For His Mum. Christy Jeffries

bad attitude on anyone.

      “I’ll take you to see him, honey. You don’t need to bother Gram or Aunt Kylie with that. Let’s just wait and see how his surgeries go and what the doctors say before you make any plans to go visit. Besides, you have school and lots of other stuff you need to take care of first.”

      “Other stuff like what, Mom? I don’t have any friends besides Jake. And it’s not like you’re going to let me play baseball this year, either.”

      “Hunter!” Maxine was tired of being made to look like the bad guy. “It’s not like you’re banned from sports or exercise. You could go running with me every afternoon. Or you could play tennis with Gram. And I bought you that Wii U sports game. I totally believe in exercising. We’ve been over this. I just don’t want you playing contact sports or getting a big ego the way most athletes do. There’s so much more to life than sports.”

      “Not to your dad, there wasn’t,” a sugary voice singsonged as the back door closed.

      Maxine cringed as Cessy Walker, her former mother-in-law and Bo Walker’s biggest fan, came strolling into the bakery to add her customary two cents.

      “Your father loved football more than anything,” Cessy added.

      He definitely loved the game more than his wife and son, Maxine thought, with Bo’s popularity coming in a close second. But she focused her attention on the woman who’d just entered the cookie shop.

      Maxine nodded toward the stairway leading to their living quarters above the bakery. “Hunter, run upstairs to the apartment and change clothes. We can talk more about this when you come home tonight.”

      When she saw Cessy’s gaze follow Hunter, she crossed her arms over her rib cage to hold her jittery emotions in check. No matter how helpful her mother-in-law was, the woman had a tendency to be every bit as overpowering as her perfume and opinions. Also, Maxine wasn’t sure what Cessy already knew about the whole pen pal situation, but one thing she could count on was that Hunter’s grandmother wouldn’t like him having any heroes other than Bodrick “Bo” Walker, the legendary Sugar Falls High School quarterback and Boise State second-string tight end.

      “Those Hudson Jeans look good on you,” Cessy told Maxine. “I knew they would. I’ll get you another pair when I go into the city next week.”

      “Thanks, but you don’t need to do that. I don’t need anything else. Really. You buy me and Hunter enough as it is.” Maxine didn’t have the heart to tell Cessy that with her cookie business booming the way it was, she probably now brought in more income than Cessy’s monthly alimony checks and stock dividends combined.

      “Honey, Bo wouldn’t want his wife and only son running around in clothes off the discount store clearance racks.”

      In the zinger department, this was point one for Cessy. Maxine knew her mother-in-law wasn’t trying to be insulting, but apparently the woman couldn’t help sounding a little, well, snobbish.

      “Besides,” Cessy added, “I love doing this for you two. I’m the only family you have around.”

      Point two. Cessy always seemed to find ways to remind Maxine that she wasn’t able to stay in frequent contact with her own scattered family.

      When Hunter came back downstairs, pulling on the too-short waistband of the hated bear sweater, Maxine said, “Be good tonight for Gram.”

      Cessy ushered the boy out the back door and into her brand-new red Lexus. Her former mother-in-law got a new car every year, even though she was no longer married to the dealership’s owner. Maxine suspected that a yearly lease was part of her last divorce settlement.

      “And wear your seat belt,” she added. “No TV or screen time tonight until you finish your homework.”

      Sometimes it seemed as though Maxine was constantly issuing orders, and it didn’t sit well with her. She feared it was a residual from her days as a military brat. Maybe she shouldn’t worry so much about Hunter. He was a good kid.

      “Mom, I got it,” Hunter said. “Stop stressing about me.” Still, he lifted his head so she could drop a goodbye kiss on his cheek.

      “Have him home before bedtime,” Maxine called out, but nobody in the Lexus seemed to hear her over the Barry Manilow CDs Cessy played constantly at high decibels.

      As Maxine stood in the doorway, watching them drive away, a wave of loneliness swept over her. In the early mornings, when it was still dark outside, she loved the solitude as she creamed the butter and sugar in the warm industrial bakery kitchen, no sounds intruding to penetrate her thoughts. But she hated the empty feeling that engulfed her when that same silence enveloped her in the afternoons and evenings, when the outside sounds were a constant buzz of activity and a reminder that families everywhere were coming together to share the ups and downs of their days.

      Normally, she would run upstairs to change into her workout clothes. She and her two best friends, Kylie and Mia, had a standing yoga date every Thursday evening. Afterward, they would have a dish session over dinner at their favorite local Italian place. She might not have the family home life she had always hoped for, but she’d sure done a fabulous job of creating a different sort of family—even if it was nontraditional.

      However, now that she had met Cooper in person, her girlfriends would have to wait. Or she could call them and have them meet her here for an emergency strategy session.

      She checked her watch. She had time to read just a few letters, so she went straight toward Hunter’s room. On the bulletin board above his desk, she recognized the photo she hadn’t given a second thought to when it’d arrived with the initial letter. In his camouflage uniform and helmet, he looked just like any other marine on duty.

      But at some point in the past few months, that picture had been affixed right on top of an old copy of the Sugar Falls Advocate article Cessy had given her grandson about high school tight end Bo Walker.

      Cessy wouldn’t like that placement too much.

      A stack of APO addressed envelopes sat in a loose pile on top of the Harry Potter book that the school library had called about last week. Hunter had assured her he’d returned it on time, but maybe Maxine should’ve been checking his desk more often.

      When she was one of seven siblings growing up in the cramped quarters of base housing, she’d promised herself that when she had kids of her own, they’d have privacy. She’d respect their boundaries.

      But this was different. Wasn’t it? She had a parental obligation to learn more about who her son wanted to spend time with. Besides, it wasn’t as if Hunter kept to himself about these things. If it were up to him, he’d be shouting from the Victorian rooftops along Snowflake Boulevard about being the fifth grader with the coolest pen pal.

      She looked at the postmarks until she found the one dated in September. That must be the first one. There was a picture still inside the envelope. She pulled out the photo and studied the desert camouflage of his uniform and the high and tight haircut of his dark hair. She’d seen enough military uniforms to last her a lifetime. Soldiers usually all looked the same to her. But the guy kneeling next to the dog seemed different. Maybe because she’d already seen that handsome face and strong jaw in person.

      He wasn’t smiling in the shot, but his arm was looped around the neck of a shaggy red dog, and his black Ray Bans were propped on his forehead. Something about the sadness in the marine’s eyes called out to her, and she fingered the photo along the hardened chin as if she could force him to smile.

      There was a loneliness reflected in his gaze that struck something deep inside her. Gunny Sergeant Matthew Cooper, huh? She pulled out the letter and started reading.

      28 Sept.

      Dear Hunter,

      I’m a Gunnery Sergeant in the Marine Corps and I work as an MP, which is military police. I don’t fly jets or drive tanks, but I do have my own patrol Humvee and get to arrest terrorists and other soldiers who break