The Soldier Next Door - Cassandra Dee Page 0,3

yet here I am. Damn him.

After he died and I returned to the States, I wanted to live a different life. It’s partly Tony’s fault. We used to talk about how we’d settle down one day with a luscious woman and pump out a couple rug rats. We always laughed at the idea, but over the years, our tones grew serious. We wanted a family, and a woman to greet us at the end of every deployment. We want children, although now, Tony will never have his.

Fuck. I have to slow down at some point. I have to put my friend out of my mind. As a result, after packing my shit, I randomly chose a city on a map and moved. There happen to be an affordable house on the market in Remford, so I bought it.

Suddenly, a loud voice interrupts my train of thought.

“Hi neighbor, how are you adjusting to everything?” I stand and turn around, looking at the gate that separates the back from the front of the house. A large-bellied man is standing there, waving happily at me. His face is red and he’s sweating profusely.

I wave back. “I’m doing well, thanks. The neighborhood is really nice.”

He beams, looking a bit like Santa Claus.

“I’m Joe Matthias, I live around the corner. What’s your name?” he asks.

I wipe my hands on my shirt and stick it back into the waistline of my pants before walking to greet him.

“Brady Firestone. Nice to meet you.”

He shakes my hand firmly and continues beaming at me.

“Everyone been treating you good? This here is a real friendly neighborhood.”

I nod.

“Oh absolutely. Everyone is great, and I like that the neighborhood is quiet. It’s all very…normal.”

He chortles happily.

“New to normal, eh? Military man, right? I recognize a couple of the tattoos you got there. Got a couple of those myself,” he says, pulling back his sleeve to show me a tattoo of a dog tag on his inner arm.

I have the same one on the left side of my chest. I glance down at mine and read the small inscription. Antonio Garcia, written in cursive, followed by the dates of his birth and death. I nod and give Joe an unexpressive smile.

“Something like that. So have you lived here long?” I ask, changing the subject.

He tilts his head back and forth. “About twenty years. My wife and I bought that house over there when we first got married. She passed about four years ago, so it’s just me now.”

I look down at the ground and knit my eyebrows together sympathetically. “I’m sorry to hear that, Joe.”

He smiles, although it’s a bit sad now.

“My wife was a fighter and she fought all the way until the end. But she told me her dying wish was for me to be happy and lose weight so I could live a long life for our kids. I’m working on keeping both those promises to her.”

I smile at his words. How I yearn to have that kind of connection or love with someone. Sometimes when I’m on tours, I think: who will care if I die? I don’t have any close family to speak of, and the only person I considered true family was Tony. Now that he is gone, I have jack shit.

Caught up in my own emotions, I suddenly just want to be alone.

“Well, nice to meet you, Joe. I really should get back to what I was doing.”

He smiles brightly.

“Oh right, right, I was just checking on you. If you need anything, I’m down the street. Also, if you haven’t met these folks right here, they’re good people,” he says nodding towards the white house next door. It’s a cute cottage with yellow shutters and colorful begonias planted in the yard.

“I have met them actually. Jackie and Jim Monroe, right?” I ask.

Joe nods in agreement.

“Yep, real nice and kind people. They’ve lived here since the neighborhood was first built. Susie was one of the first neighborhood kids actually.”

“Susie? Oh, that’s their daughter right? I remember them mentioning something about her.”

Joe looks off into the distance, seemingly thinking about something. His slightly bites into his bottom lip, and then he shakes his head.

“Yeah, that Susie is really something. Have you met her yet?”

I tilt my head at him, confused at what he means by that.

“Um, no I haven’t,” I say shaking my head. “I happened to catch her parents when I was coming home one day, but Susie was still at school I think? She goes to