Chapter 33: Home for the Holidays

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21 December 2024 – Bundesautobahn 64, Trier, West Germany

“I’m gonna miss Germany,” Tom muttered while looking out the passenger’s window of the rental car. He would miss the beauty of the West German countryside and its people.

“My tour’s not over yet, Tom. But, it’s already been four and a half years since we graduated college, Tom,” Sabrina reminded him. “Time marches on, and my PCS date is out there.”

“In the military and uses a marching cliché,” Tom said to the invisible studio audience. “How cliché!”

“You’re going to stop with the jokes soon, I hope? You sound like my dad!”

Tom chuckled at that.

“How many of the Western European countries have we visited? All of them?”

“Not sure we ever got to Germany …”

“I’m handling the jokes today, remember?”

“I’ll ‘remember’ as soon as you tell a funny one.”

“‘Funny?’ Like us showing up at Edwards and our personal belongings are nowhere to be found ‘funny?’” Tom asked.

“Would that include our cars, too? Yeah, that’d be hysterical! Stuck in the middle of the California desert without transportation. It is to laugh.”

“Seriously, we’ve made it to every Western country except Malta. We visited Oslo, Stockholm, and Copenhagen in the same week alone!”

“The ‘same incredibly busy and insane week alone,’ you mean. That was a poor decision, regardless of how much fun we had, Tom. Each country should have gotten its own week.”

“Not gonna argue with you there, Babe.” Tom looked around the car. “It’s going to be strange getting back into American-sized cars again when you do PCS.”

“It’ll be nice to have my pickup back, that’s for sure.”

“You thinking about getting that PPS fusion plant upgrade for your Crusher’s KMV-295?”

“I’m still considering it,” Sabrina admitted. “We don’t do the off-road, four-wheeling thing. I’ve found the 295 to be just fine for my needs, even during Colorado winters. How about you? Will you trade your gas-powered relic for a fusion plant-powered car?”

“Remind me again of the fuel that powers your beloved stealth fighters?” Tom asked while looking at the car’s roof and tapping his chin. “I’ll wait.”

“You waiting for my hand to impact the back of your head, à la that character from the military police procedural show? ‘Cause that’s what you’re gonna get.”

“Hilfe!” Tom yelled in German out his rolled-down window. “Hilf mir!”

“That might be more effective if we weren’t on the Autobahn, traveling at speed.”

“My dumb luck that I marry a girl who can kill me with anything from her bare hands up to a four-hundred-million-dollar stealth fighter.”

“Does that include sarcasm and a snarky tone? I’d hate for those to be left out.” Tom gave his wife a look. “I’m just sayin’. Dad spent a lot of time teaching me that.”

“Remind me to thank him next time I see him, okay?”

“Hell, he’ll tell you you’re welcome with the same sarcasm I use,” Sabrina reminded him. “You sure that’s what you want?”

“I should ask your mom to teach me that meditation thing.”

“Never too late to start, husband, dear.” Sabrina rolled her eyes before slowing for a likely accident. Tom smiled back before he thought about how long their day would be.

“I shudder to think about how long we’ll be on the move today.” They passed the crash and approached the Sauer Valley Bridge and the Luxembourg border.

“Between the flights, the layovers, trying to get out of Logan, and the drive to Lancaster, we have a solid twelve or more hours of traveling,” Sabrina replied from the driver’s seat. “It’s probably eight hours in the air alone.”

“Hmm,” he grumbled.

Sabrina shrugged as they rolled over the Sauertalbrücke and the international frontier.

“A one-hour flight to London, a three-hour layover, a seven-hour flight to Boston, figure an hour and a half to get our bags and leave Logan if we’re lucky, then an hour ride to your parent’s house,” Tom said after looking up the times on his tablet. “Close to fourteen hours, Sabrina. Fourteen! And it’s closer to fifteen if you include this drive to the airport! We have to be crazy!”

“Possibly,” she agreed, “but we haven’t seen our families since transferring to Germany, other than Alex and Anna’s wedding. It’ll be nice spending time with them before heading to California.”

Sabrina slowed as they approached the Wasserbillig border checkpoint. She handed their passports to a customs official and answered a few questions. The man did a cursory inspection before wishing them a good day and waving them on.

“That wasn’t so bad,” Tom muttered.

“We’ll see how the Bundesgrenzschutz treats us on the way back.”

The West Germans were usually polite – especially to military members from the Western Allied Powers – but after almost one hundred years of ‘occupation,’ there was bound to be occasional friction. The West Germans wanted the British, French, and American forces out of their country. Conversely, the West Germans didn’t want to open themselves to attack from the East.

Their fellow Germans in the ‘Eastern Zone’ would do whatever their Soviet masters told them. The brutal repression of protests in other Warsaw Pact countries during the 1960s, ‘90s, and 2010s taught the East Germans that was their safest course, even if the Soviets told them to invade the West.

“I doubt they will give us any grief. They have a ton of extra military backup they don’t pay for.”

“Well, it’s not theirs, but I know what you mean.” Sabrina knew because the 22nd TFS at Spangdahlem was part of that military backup.

A half-hour later, Sabrina searched for an open spot in the EuroCar rental parking lot.

“Why did we come here instead of going to Frankfurt?” Tom asked. “KLM versus Lufthansa?”

“Travel time was the same,” Sabrina shrugged. “I think we flipped a coin.”

As long as they got home to Massachusetts, she didn’t care. They would spend Christmas and New Year’s with their families in Massachusetts. Sabrina wished they could have made Keiolis Family Christmas last weekend.

“Do we still have time to grab some lunch before our flight to Heathrow?” she asked as they grabbed their luggage. “Or should we wait until we get there?”

Tom checked his watch. “That crash outside Igel put us behind schedule. We should wait.”

The KLM flight from Luxembourg to Heathrow was nothing worth mentioning other than it happened. Like most pilots, Sabrina would have preferred to be at the airplane’s controls, but she got over it. They spent part of their London layover lingering over their meal of fish and chips at the Heathrow terminal. Tom commented they could probably get the same food in Massachusetts for half the price. The best they could say was that it wasn’t terrible.

Trans-Atlantic first class on KLM certainly wasn’t terrible, either. Sabrina sighed as she sank into her luxury seat. The plush, oversized leather recliner featured personal climate controls and a personal entertainment system. Passengers could choose from provided audio and video offerings or stream content from a tablet or laptop.

If a passenger wanted to sleep, they could do so inside an enclosed cocoon that extruded from the chair. Inside, the cocoon allowed them to sleep in total darkness if they chose and also canceled out any noise from the outside. KLM was one of the first airlines to install these seats. None of the American carriers had them, yet.

“Okay,” Sabrina commented while sipping her champagne after liftoff, “maybe I don’t mind not being at the controls so much this time.”

“A few more amenities on this flight than ones in your F-22, I imagine. Remind me why we flew coach when you were assigned to Spangdahlem?”

“Because the Air Force was paying then, Tom,” she reminded her husband. “I didn’t want to look like anything other than your average new first lieutenant, either.”

“True,” he admitted. “We did pay for the flight to Hawaii.”

Neither had any difficulty falling asleep after an early dinner. Inside the pod, Sabrina felt like a little girl again, falling asleep in Sofu’s recliner surrounded by silence. A flight attendant woke them fifteen minutes before their descent into Boston’s Logan Airport.

“That was pretty good,” Tom remarked after debarking. The couple walked down the concourse toward the main terminal.

“It sure was,” his wife agreed as she tried to work a kink out of her back. “We slept – That’s definitely a win.”

They also counted escaping Logan with their bags in under an hour a win.


The airport limo turned into her parents’ driveway less than an hour later. Sabrina hadn’t put both feet on the pavement before her mother nearly tackled her.

“Hi, Mom!” she laughed while the two hugged. Sabrina saw her father shaking hands with Tom.

“Sabrina!” Keiko sniffled.

“Don’t worry, Mom. Tom and I are home for a whole two weeks!”

“It will not be long enough,” Keiko said while wiping tears away.

“It never is – DAD!” she cried as her father yanked her off her feet and twirled her around.

“Hi, Princess!”

“Dad! I’m an officer in the United States Air Force! I’m not ten!

“You’re still our baby girl though, Princess!” Jeff said with a chuckle before putting her back on the ground.

“Yeah, yeah … Can we go inside now? It’s a bit chilly out here this time of night.”

“I’ll help you with your bags, Tom, while the girls head inside and get drinks for us.”

“I think you’re pushing your luck with the ‘girls’ thing, Dad,” Tom warned. “They start raising eyebrows, and I will disavow all knowledge.”

Jeff tipped the limo driver himself. Jeff and Tom found their wives chatting in the kitchen after putting the bags in Sabrina’s old room. Knowing their husbands’ preferences, the women handed them each a beer.

“What’s the plan for the week, Dad?” Sabrina asked after her dad offered a toast.

“Why are you asking me, Sabrina? You know your mom’s in charge!”

Keiko smirked at Jeff. “We are headed to your grandparents’ house in Enfield for Christmas Eve, and we will come home after breakfast on the twenty-sixth. Sobo and Sofu will join us for dinner tomorrow night. Thomas’ parents will arrive on the twenty-seventh.”

“It’ll be good to see them. Is everyone doing okay?”

“Mother is well, but I fear Father is not doing as well as he would like us to believe,” Keiko replied with a frown. She saw the look on Sabrina’s face. “I know, Sabrina. It is not easy to hear, nor say – especially of one’s own father – but he is in his eighties.”

“Yeah,” she sighed, “I guess.”

“Anyway, you guys must be exhausted,” Jeff said as he drained his beer. “Do you want another drink before bed, or are you good?”

“I’ll probably fall asleep before I finish another drink, Dad,” Tom commented. Sabrina nodded in agreement.

“Well, Keiko and I won’t be far behind you. It’s way past our bedtime!”


Sabrina’s maternal grandparents arrived an hour before Keiko said they would, eager to see their granddaughter and her husband again. Sabrina’s eyes watered when she saw how frail Sofu had become since she saw him last.

“Sabrina, my time is coming,” he whispered during their hug. “I am not eager to leave your grandmother, nor the rest of you, but you know it is inevitable. My brothers have all passed on from this life. Only Sobo, my sister, and my sisters-in-law remain from my generation.” He brushed a tear from Sabrina’s cheek.

“I am only slower than before. I still feel good for my age, and my mind is still sharp. I am grateful for the life I have had, the blessings I have received, and the time I was able to have with you and your brothers as you grew up. Not all grandparents can walk to their grandchildren’s house almost anytime they want. Come,” he added as he led her to the living room, “let us enjoy the holidays together.”

Later that night, Tom held his wife as they lay together in Sabrina’s old room. He felt her sorrow and tried to comfort her the best he could.

“God, Tom, what if we head back to Germany and never see Sofu alive again?” she sniffed.

“It could happen, Sabrina. That’s a risk we face with any of our family or friends. All four of your grandparents are alive, whereas mine are all dead. The old saying of ‘tomorrow isn’t promised,’ is very true. You’ve lost three of your academy classmates to training accidents already.”

“I know,” she sighed. “Sofu’s been around my whole life. I just don’t want to think about him not being there.”

Tom hugged his wife tighter. They eventually drifted off to sleep.

Two days later, they followed her parents’ Suburban with her parents and her mom’s parents to Enfield, where her father’s parents still lived. The sun set during the drive, and it was dark when they arrived at the house on West Ware Road.

“I’m glad it’s still as dark around here as when I was a kid,” Jeff said, looking up at the stars above.

“It definitely doesn’t get this dark on Air Force bases, that’s for sure,” Tom snorted. “Too many lights.”

“Yeah, well, let’s get inside,” Sabrina muttered. “I’m not dressed for a night in the cold.”

She helped her grandparents to the porch, where they all stamped their feet clean of snow. Jeff opened his parents’ front door and stepped inside with a call of “Hello … ?” Sabrina then ran into his back because her parents had stopped short.

“Dad!” she barked.

Sabrina’s parents surged forward to hug someone. It wasn’t either of her father’s parents because they stood watching the scene with tears in their eyes. Finally, her parents moved out of the way, and she saw who they’d hugged.

Ryan. It was her goddamn brother, Ryan Knox, the son of a bitch.

Sabrina hadn’t seen her other brother in almost a decade. That had been just fine with her. She’d gotten along perfectly well without him in her life. Her blood started to boil as Ryan released their parents and stepped closer. Her knuckles cracked as her fists clenched.

“Hi, Sabrina,” Ryan offered with some trepidation.

His angst proved warranted when Sabrina’s left hand lashed out in a quick jab to his nose, snapping his head back. A wicked right cross to his jaw sent him crashing to the floor.

The room exploded with noise. Everyone began yelling in outrage and screaming at Sabrina. She stood stone-faced, glaring at her brother as he lay on the floor. Ryan shook his head to clear it, rose, and staggered into the kitchen. Jeff got in her face, screaming. She gave him her best thousand-yard, ‘I don’t give a flying fuck’ stare. Jeff finally spun and stalked away toward the kitchen, following his son. Keiko took Jeff’s place, alternating between English and Japanese expressions of displeasure.

Sabrina finally had enough and stomped into the kitchen also. It was empty. A cold draft drew her attention to the open slider to the back deck. Stepping over, she watched Ryan straighten his crooked nose and heard the cartilage <crunch> from ten feet away. Their father said something about how Sabrina owed Ryan an apology.

“No, she doesn’t, Dad,” Ryan told him. “I’ve had that coming for a while.”

‘Goddamn right, you have!’ Sabrina thought.

“You have not!” their father exclaimed.

“Dad, have you forgotten why I left? Why Alex and Sabrina haven’t talked to me in almost ten years? I’m lucky Sabrina didn’t finish me off just now.”

“Goddamn right, you’re lucky, asshole!” Sabrina yelled, mirroring her earlier thought. She burst through the open door and marched up to her brother. Her father jumped in surprise, but not Ryan.

“I know, Sabrina,” he admitted, turning to his little sister. “You cut your hair … It makes sense for you to keep in that short if you’re in the military … Am I right in assuming you graduated from the Air Force Academy? And was that Tommy Jones you came in with?”

Ryan’s unconcerned questioning made Sabrina pause. He should be cowering in fear of another thrashing, but he just stood there like he’d resigned himself to it and was waiting for the next blow to land. She took a step back to reevaluate the situation.

He was thin, thinner than he ever looked in the past. Even in the pale glow of the outside lights, the skin of his face looked tan and weathered, as if he spent lots of time outside in the elements.

“Yeah,” she replied, her voice softening. “We got married just after I graduated from USAFA.”

“Pilot?”

“Yeah, I’m stationed in Germany as part of an F-22 squadron.”

Ryan smiled at her, something she hadn’t seen him do in almost twenty years.

“Well, congratulations on all counts, Sabrina. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for either your graduation or your wedding … I wouldn’t have been good company then.”

“Where have you been, Ryan?” she heard herself ask. “You look like you’ve been on a fishing boat or something, the way you look.”

“After I left Wake Forest and when I was out of touch, I was an ‘urban outdoorsman,’ as Dad and his colleagues would say.” Ryan saw the look on her and their father’s faces. “Don’t feel sorry for me, either of you. I ended up where I did because of the choices I made. It wasn’t until my … girlfriend, you could call her, overdosed on heroin that I finally woke up.”

“Where have you been all this time?”

“Drifting up and down the Southeast Coast, keeping one step ahead of the police as much as possible.”

“How did you get here?” their father asked.

“I was outside Fayetteville of all places when I finally wised up. A trucker picked me up from under an overpass on I-95. During a rainstorm.”

“This trucker drove you all the way from North Carolina?” Jeff asked.

“Well, not directly. Mister C had deliveries in the Mid-Atlantics he had to take care of, then his last few were up this way.” Ryan scratched his head. “He got this funny look when I told him my name and I wanted to come to Enfield.”

“Did he give you his name?” Jeff asked, looking at Sabrina, then back at Ryan. “Maybe we can find some way to thank him.”

“Yeah, Dad. His name is Bryan Cosgrove.” Jeff stared at his youngest son in disbelief. “I didn’t find out he was originally from around here until he dropped me off. He said to say hi.”

Sabrina blinked. Sabrina once heard her father say that Bryan Cosgrove was the bane of his existence during high school. From his reaction to the name, the trucker must have been the same person.

“Excuse me?” Jeff asked in disbelief. “Bryan Fucking Cosgrove?”

“Yup. I nicked one of Mister C’s business cards for you too.” Ryan held it out for his dad. Jeff took it.

“Good thing Dad didn’t have him sent to prison, then.”

“The universe works in mysterious ways, Sabrina.”

“Isn’t that ‘God works in mysterious ways,’ Ryan?”

“There are plenty of things I’m trying to work out for myself, Sabrina. That includes where I stand on religion personally, and in general.”

Sabrina nodded in understanding. She was basically agnostic at this point. Some Greek Orthodox Mass rituals still comforted her, but not much else about religion did.

“When … when did you get here?”

“About fifteen minutes before you walked through the door. I’m surprised you didn’t smell the diesel exhaust.”

The Western Mass December night made itself known once more. Sabrina shivered.

“I’m going to step back inside,” she told her father and brother. “Even after two years in Germany, I’m not used to this weather anymore.”

“Sabrina,” Ryan said as she turned to the house, stopping her. She looked back at her younger older brother. “For what it’s worth, I am sorry. I … I had plenty of time to think while sitting under bridges and in abandoned buildings. Plenty of time to finally understand who I was then, and plenty of time to loathe being that person.”

“Ryan,” Sabrina started as a lump formed in her throat. “I’m … I don’t know if I can accept yet …”

“It took years for me to get here, Bina,” Ryan replied gently, making the lump in her throat grow when he used her childhood nickname. “You’ve had minutes. That you didn’t beat me to death when you first saw me tonight is a win in my book.”

“Well, give me a minute. I’m sure you’ll do something else to piss me off.”

Ryan laughed and waved her inside.

Keiko started stomping over to Sabrina when she re-entered the living room but stopped when she saw her daughter’s face. The conflict and confusion were visible. Keiko glanced at her parents, then Jeffrey’s. The mothers walked over and pulled her to a corner. Sabrina sat heavily on the couch.

“You okay, Babe?” Tom asked when he sat next to her.

“I don’t know …” she whispered. “I wanted to kill Ryan when he walked over. Now? I … I don’t know …”

I haven’t had time to process him being home, Babe. Forget you being able to process this yet. I saw this from a distance back in Lancaster, but you had to live it.”

Sabrina snuggled into her husband’s arms.

“I don’t deserve you, Tommy.”

“And I deserve you in my life, Sabrina? Not hardly.”

Sabrina curled up with Tom until Grandma Marisa told them dinner was ready. Seeing Ryan seated at the dining room table triggered memories and another feeling of surprise.

Grandpa Joe stood at the head of the table. He offered his thanks to everyone for joining them in Enfield for Christmas. He thanked Divine Providence for returning his grandson to them safely.

Ryan then stood and apologized to everyone at the table. He asked for their forgiveness for leaving, how he acted before leaving, and for staying away for as long as he did. There wasn’t a dry eye when he sat. Keiko wrapped herself around her youngest son and let the tears flow. Dinner was a little delayed.

A spirited discussion began when revised sleeping arrangements were proposed. Grandpa Joe wanted to get Ryan into an actual bed, likely for the first time in years.

“Grandpa, lying on your carpet downstairs will be better than some of the places I’ve slept the last couple of years,” Ryan told him. “A pillow, a couple blankets, and I’ll be fine.”

A pull-out couch in the family room downstairs was deemed a suitable compromise by all parties.

Sabrina didn’t say much after dinner and said nothing after climbing into bed with Tom that night.

“Lots on your mind tonight, I imagine …” he said to the badass in his arms.

“Lots that will likely keep me up all night.”

“Maybe,” Tom agreed. “So get up and read later tonight if you need to. Do some push-ups and sit-ups. Trust me, you won’t wake me up.”

Sabrina smiled slightly at that. Tom could sleep through a tornado.

“Sabrina, Ryan was right. He’s had time to get his thoughts in order about coming home. You’ve had a few hours now to think about this. He understands this won’t be an immediate thing for you.”

Sabrina fell asleep not long after the discussion ended. She slept through the night, though not peacefully. Tom received a couple of inadvertent elbows to the gut as his wife occasionally twitched and thrashed, though he was able to sleep enough to function the following day.

Sabrina and Tom came downstairs to find Ryan, Grandpa Joe, and Grandma Marisa drinking coffee at the kitchen table.

“Hey, you two!” Marisa said with a smile. “Coffee’s right over there.”

Mugs sat on the counter next to the coffee maker. Tom and Sabrina each poured themselves some and sat with their family. Ryan pushed the cream and sugar toward them.

“So, Ryan?” Sabrina asked before sipping at her brew. “What’s next?”

“We were discussing that before you guys walked in,” he replied while nodding at their father’s parents.

“And?”

“And there’s little point in me returning to Lancaster, Tom, other than being closer to Mom and Dad. I doubt anyone there would still call me a friend.” Ryan took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I need to readjust to this world. I lived on the fringe without being part of it for almost five years. I lived in the shadows. Grandma and Grandpa will help me find my way again. Mom and Dad can’t do that full-time.”

“And Grandma and Grandpa can?” Sabrina asked while looking at the older couple.

“We can, Sabrina,” Grandpa Joe answered gently. “I have no demands on my time since I sold the garage and left the Select Board. Unless Grandma puts something on the honey-do list.” Grandma pinched him and nodded to Tom and Sabrina. “We have room here, and I can help Ryan find work.”

“I need to prove myself again, Sabrina. To our family, to outsiders, and to myself.” Ryan cracked a crooked smile at his little sister. “It’s a long way to the top, but I wanna rock ‘n’ roll.”

“You’ve got Dad’s music stuck in your head too?”

“Oh, yeah. It was annoying at first, but it kept me sane later on. This change won’t be easy, but something worth having never is.”

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