Chapter 9 - The Invitation
Over the next six weeks, Derek didn't just fulfill his community service—he transformed the yellow house.
He repainted the entire porch a clean, crisp white. He rebuilt the cedar flower beds and planted fresh winter mums. On rainy afternoons, he would sit in the living room and listen as I showed him scrapbooks from the 1960s, teaching him the names of the men who had worn his battalion patch before his parents were born.
In turn, the other soldiers in his squad started noticing a change. Derek stopped yelling. He started listening. When a young private struggled with field drills, Derek didn't mock him—he stayed late after hours to coach him.
Then, on a Friday morning in late October, Colonel Vance’s staff car pulled into my driveway.
The Colonel stepped out, holding a thick parchment envelope sealed with gold wax.
"Mrs. Braddock," Vance said with a warm smile. "Next Thursday is the battalion’s annual activation banquet. Three hundred active soldiers, veterans, and families will be in attendance. The brigade unanimously requests your presence as the guest of honor."
"Marcus, you know I don't care for long speeches," I protested gently.
"It's not just a speech," Vance replied. "Sergeant Reese specifically petitioned the command to present something to you on behalf of the enlisted soldiers. He wouldn't tell me what it was, but he said if anyone has earned the right to stand on that stage, it is you."
I looked at the gold seal on the envelope, feeling an unexpected warmth bloom in my chest.
May you like
"Well," I said softly. "I suppose I'll have to get my good gray coat dry-cleaned."
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