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“Jacky boy,” he said, hugging me back tightly. “I've missed you son,” he said, holding me out at arm’s length. Tears welled up in his eyes, quickly mirrored in mine as we saw each other for the first time in five years. After another long embrace, we collected my bags, went to the car and started for home. We chatted for a while, catching up with each other. He told me about things at his store, gossip about people in town and the ‘67 Camaro he bought. I told him a little about where I had been. Things I had seen. We fell into a companionable silence, listening to the radio and looking at the scenery. “Rachel and Alexis are excited you are coming home,” he said, referring to my stepmother and stepsister. My dad had met and married Rachel and it was easy to see why. Twelve years younger than my dad, she proved to be a sweet and nurturing woman, who was also voluptuous and sexy. I had found myself looking down her low cut shirts at her massive tits or, at her. Being a Department of the Navy civilian, he could wear what he wanted, and today, apparently, he wanted to wear a polo shirt, khaki pants, and soft shoes. He'd stowed his jacket in his carry-on bag overhead, and looked insufferably at his ease.Lenore, on the other hand, was in her tailored Service Dress, feeling hot and confined. Every time she looked over at him, he seemed smugly comfortable. She'd flown back from Diego last time in a tee-shirt and bluejeans, rather than the Utilities she'd worn onboard the Joy Redux and for the remainder of that weekend.This time, given that the US Military was on a high state of alert, Lenore would travel in uniform. She was traveling as BM2 Collins, though she felt more and more that she should be seen as Officer Candidate Collins. Yet, given the nature of the duty she was pulling for ONI, she would wear the stripes. And what a change in outlook it is for me to resent wearing a uniform, and even more so to resent, even a little, the stripes that.
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