Evan sat at the kitchen table in his apartment, reviewing his budget. He had no debt, only the basic bills, and his medical retirement check covered those. Still, he needed more—and not financially speaking.

The VA has sent him several letters to make an appointment, but he’d tossed them aside. Medical retirement from the Marine Corps deemed him unfit for military service. A disability rating from the VA said he was unable to work in the civilian world as well. He couldn’t bring himself to accept that. Working and earning a living was an integral part of life.

His leg would never be the same, but there had to be jobs out there he could still enjoy. It was only a matter of finding one that didn’t require heavy physical exertion or for him to be on his feet for long periods of time. Maybe he’d use his G.I. Bill and go back to school. What would he go for? He didn’t know what he wanted to do, but he’d have to figure it out before too long. The days of sitting home and not working dragged on.

He longed to go for a run until his muscles burned, but those days were over. Before he slid into a woe-is-me attitude, he reminded himself how fortunate he’d been. Too many times, he had to repeat his blessings to ward off the negative thoughts. He had his life, all his limbs, and he hadn’t had to use a cane since those first months. Not in public, at least. Some days when the pain was worse, and no one was around to see, he’d use it in the privacy of his apartment.

Closing his laptop, he decided to go for a swim. When he’d had to move off base, he’d chosen this apartment complex for its indoor pool. Swimming was the one physical activity that didn’t scream his limitations to the world, and it provided the release of energy he craved.

After changing into a pair of swimming trunks and a t-shirt, he grabbed a towel from the linen closet and walked to the pool area from his first-floor apartment. He typed in the security code, and once he heard the lock release, he pushed open the door.

To his delight, no one else was there—one advantage of being home in the middle of the day. He shed his shirt and flip flops, dropped the towel on a chair. Jumping in at the deep end, he let the warm water envelop him, and he relished the weightlessness.

Arms parted the water, legs kicked, propelled him forward. Lap after lap he swam, expending his energy, freeing his mind of plaguing thoughts. This…this was the sweet freedom of moving without inhibition.

He didn’t stop until his breaths came short. Even then, he pushed for another two laps. He climbed the steps of the deep end then ran a hand through his hair, squeezing out the excess water. Inhaling until his lungs filled with air, he savored the tingling of his muscles brought on by a solid workout.

Two people entered the pool room, whom he recognized from passing in the halls of the complex. They gave short waves and greeted him, and he responded before grabbing his towel and drying off. He slipped his shirt over his head and slid his feet into the flip flops.

Back in his apartment, he checked his phone and saw a missed call from Janie. She didn’t leave a voicemail but had sent a message to call ASAP.

His stomach tightened, and he prayed nothing bad had happened. She’d had enough trouble to last a lifetime. He thumbed back to the call log and tapped on her number.

“Thank goodness you called,” Janie answered before he could say a word. “I need your help. Can you come over?”

He gauged her voice, but couldn’t pinpoint the emotion behind it. “Now?”

“If you’re able?” She squeaked the last word out as though she didn’t want to pressure him but desperately wanted him to get there immediately.

“Sure. I’ll be there in a half hour.” He paused before hanging up. “Everything okay?”

“It will be. See you soon.” She ended the call without another word.

He stared at the phone, trying to figure out what just happened, then decided it was no use. She wasn’t crying, so it couldn’t be anything too bad. The smell of chlorine drifted to his nostrils. He needed a shower before going to ditch the pool-chemical scent.

After a quick hop in the shower, he dressed in jeans and a fresh t-shirt, then pulled on a USMC hoodie. He combed his short brown hair with his fingers and put on a pair of sneakers, bent over to tie them. His leg only hurt a bit, a good day for sure.

On the way to Janie’s, he opened the sunroof and let the cool air into his car. He loved North Carolina falls. Unlike home in Louisiana, the Carolina coast had a fall season, even if mild by New England standards. There was a brief time in November when the leaves changed colors, and the road to Janie’s house boasted traces of gold and vermillion woven among the evergreens.

When he pulled into River Mills, Janie’s subdivision, he half-expected to see an ambulance or police car, or some other sign of why she needed him immediately. Nothing stood out. The neighborhood appeared its usual serene self.

A mom played with her toddlers at the playground up front. Mr. Ford, a retired Marine from the days of Vietnam waved to Evan as he drove by. He pulled into Janie’s cul-de-sac and saw her car in the driveway where she always parked despite having a garage.

He parked behind her, opened the door, and swung his legs out. She’d added dried cornstalks and pumpkins to the porch since he’d been there two weeks ago. Pressing the doorbell, he heard the ring inside.

Janie opened the door dressed in a pair of raggedy sweatpants and a shirt she’d probably owned since junior high. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

Eyeing her ensemble, complete with a cheerio in her unbrushed hair, he worried about her mental state. She’d come so far in recent weeks—had it all been an act? “What’s going on?”

“Come in and I’ll show you.” Moving aside, she motioned him to the dining room.

Magazines, cookbooks, and printed recipes covered the table.

He cocked his head, not understanding. “What is all this?”

“I told my parents this morning that I’d decided not to go home for Christmas.”

“Glad you made a decision. I know you didn’t make it lightly.” He thumbed through several pages of the closest cookbook.

“It wasn’t easy. I love my family, but I’ve made a lot of progress in grief healing lately, and I’m worried a trip home, with memories everywhere of Mike, might cause a setback.” She sighed. “I told Mom I’d try to come home for Easter. I think I’ll be ready by then.”

“Good.” He waved a hand over the table. “But I still can’t figure out why you urgently called me over.”

“That call and text might have been made in a moment of desperation.” Pink spread over her cheeks and down her neck. “After I told Mom I wasn’t going there for Christmas, she called back ten minutes later and announced that the whole family will come here for Thanksgiving.”

“That’s good, isn’t it?”

“Not quite.” She sank into the closest chair. “I’m glad they’ll all be here, but I did something dumb. I insisted I would make Thanksgiving dinner for the crew.”

His mouth formed an O. “There are restaurants in town which cater.”

“But I don’t want to have the meal catered.” She absently flipped through a pile of papers before making eye contact again. “My family has done so much for me, I want to do this one small thing for them.”

He scratched his forehead, thinking how to word it delicately. “You know I love you like a sister, right?”

“Yes.”

“And I can tell you anything, right?”

“Of course.”

He pulled out a chair and sat near her. “You have many fantastic qualities and talents, but cooking isn’t one of them.”

“I know.” Her bottom quivered. “It was stupid to insist. Mom even questioned me, and I told her I’ve been taking lessons.”

“Have you?”

“No.” Sobs erupted from her chest. “I’ll just call her back and tell her she’s in charge of dinner.”

Her tears did him in. He shouldn’t have said anything about her lack of cooking skills. It had been a running joke for years, but this hadn’t been the time to resurrect it. Cooking Thanksgiving dinner for her family obviously meant a great deal to her. He slid an arm around her shoulders. “Hey, if it’s important, we’ll figure it out.”

“You’ll help me?”

“Do I get an invitation to the meal?” He wiggled his brows and grinned. “Of course, I’ll help.”

“You’re the best. And, of course you’re invited.” She dabbed at her eyes with her knuckles.

He reached behind him and grabbed the box of tissues from the counter, tossed them to her. “Where do we start?”

“A menu.” Lifting a tissue to dry her eyes, she grabbed her notebook with her other hand. “This is what I worked on before calling you. I was so frantic, I couldn’t think of any dishes other than the main turkey, and when I started searching for traditional Thanksgiving menus and recipes online and in cookbooks, I got overwhelmed. Did you know there are a million and one different ways to prepare a turkey?”

Evan smiled to himself. Now that he’d been assured no true emergency existed, he saw the humor in the situation with a touch of sadness. The old Janie would have taken it in stride and figured out a solution on her own without an emotional overload. “Jared’s back to day shifts, and I’ll call him later when he’s off. Remember his sister makes those amazing pies? He can ask her for a recipe for a pumpkin and pecan pie.”

“I forgot about that. Great idea.” She scribbled a note. “My family always has a caramel apple pie, so I’ll add that, too. I’ll ask Mom for Nanna’s recipe.”

“Now for the main menu. What does your family normally have?”

“Turkey, ham, stuffing, rolls, green bean casserole, cheesy cornbread casserole, cranberry sauce from a can.” A cookbook fell off the table, and she picked it up. “I’d like to switch it up though, add other dishes.”

“Such as?”

“Not sure. Maybe mac and cheese.” She rubbed her stomach. “Mrs. Ford makes the best. They invited me for Thanksgiving last year, and it was so delicious. I made a pig of myself with three helpings but didn’t even care.”

“I bet if you ask her, she’ll make a tray for you.”

“Would that be asking too much?”

He shook his head. “Not with her. She loves cooking for others. We’ll even buy the ingredients for her if she’ll let us.”

Janie’s eyes widened. “I should invite them and return the favor from last year. She told me last week her children can’t make it in this year, and they’ve never met my family.”

“Give her a call.” If she wanted to invite more people, he wouldn’t question that decision. Despite her self-doubt, he had faith in her ability to pull it together.

And with a little patience and recipe-following, the food might even be edible.

“What does your family have for their traditional meal?” Her eyes didn’t lift from her notes.

“Turkey, rice dressing, veggies, carrot salad, rolls. I’m sure there’s more that I’m forgetting.”

“We had carrot salad a few years.” Janie looked at him. “Do you like it?”

“Not particularly, but rice dressing is a staple that completes the meal.” Thinking of his mom’s, he could taste it already.

“So many options.” Growling, Janie tossed her notebook on the counter. “How do I decide?”

“First of all, forget all the fancy magazine recipes. They’re not helping you at all, and likely beyond our skill level.”

“Our?”

“I’m going to help you cook.”

She snorted. “Yeah, okay.”

“I’m serious. If you can learn to cook a Thanksgiving dinner, so can I.”

Her eyes shifted, clearly uncertain of his capabilities—not that he could be upset. He’d done the same to her minutes ago. “You think we should stick with basics?”

“Absolutely. It doesn’t have to be complicated to still taste good.”

She took a deep breath. “We’ve got this.”

“Yes, we do.”

They spent the next half hour planning the meal, narrowing down the choices to a simple menu. The final choices consisted of turkey, ham (pre-cooked and pre-sliced), mashed potatoes and gravy, green bean casserole, corn, rice dressing, mac and cheese, and rolls. For dessert, they’d have two pumpkin pies, one apple, and one pecan.

“What about appetizers?” Janie asked after they’d completed the menu.

“Do we need them?”

Her scowl answered him. “It’s not Thanksgiving without them. Mom always puts them out for us to nibble on during the parade and games before dinner.”

“Come to think of it, Mom always had out deviled eggs, and a tray of cheese and crackers, but I never thought much about it.”

“We also had a veggie tray, and all that’s easy enough to pull together.” A grin popped up. “And deviled eggs are one dish I can make without problems.”

“Let’s stick with those and the two trays then. They’re easy enough.”

“Thanks for your help.” She cast him an appreciative glance. “I’m sure I’d eventually have gotten it on my own, but you helped me calm down and put it all in perspective.”

“All in a day’s work. Anything else before I leave?” Pushing his chair back, he stood.

“Can you invite Jared when you ask about the pies?”

“Sure. What time?”

“If you’re really going to help me cook, around eleven for you. Tell Jared we’ll eat at five, but he can come anytime before that.” Her lips straightened to a thin line. “If anyone in the squadron will be alone, invite them, too.”

“I will.” He didn’t make a big deal of the extended invitation, but he knew the inner strength it required of her.

While she’d come to homecoming and welcomed everyone home, she’d kept her distance from everyone but him, Wyatt, and Jared. Had he and the other two not been so close with Mike, Janie probably would have tried to push them away as well, but they wouldn’t have let it happen. As it was, Mike had made them promise to look after Janie if anything happened to him, and vows between war brothers were sacred.