Chapter 13 - Spring on Main StreetSpring returned to the Blue Ridge Mountains with an explosion of dogwood blossoms, bright green foliage, and crisp, sweet mountain air.
Main Street in Oakridge was unrecognizable from the quiet, terrified ghost town I had returned to six months ago. Storefronts that had sat shuttered and abandoned under Wade Cain’s predatory squatting were now repainted, reopened, and buzzing with local commerce.
I sat at my usual corner booth in Turner’s Family Diner, reviewing retirement transition paperwork from the Department of the Army. My formal retirement orders had arrived that morning, officially ending twenty-two years of active-duty service as a Ranger battalion commander.
My mother walked over with a fresh pot of coffee, pouring a steaming cup into my mug before sliding into the opposite side of the booth.
“You’re officially a civilian now, aren't you?” Mom asked, her dark eyes sparkling with quiet amusement.
“Officially,” I smiled, setting the papers down. “No more combat briefs, no more satellite hops, and no more tactical deployments.”
“Good,” Mom said firmly, reaching across the table to squeeze my hand. “Because I need a reliable assistant manager who actually knows how to clean the grease traps properly. The diner isn't going to run itself.”
May you like
I laughed, shaking my head. “Mom, I commanded a thousand-person battalion through combat zones. I think I can handle a grease trap.”
“Don’t be so sure,” she teased, winking as she stood up to greet a group of local farmers walking through the front door. “The line cooks are much tougher than the infantry.”
Related Stories
