He hops from his chair when he sees it’s me. I stop at the front desk, and Chuck, the man who works it, looks up at me. I thought she was a little too young to be living here, but once I got a chance to visit on leave one month ago I could tell this was the place for her. It was always her and me, and I think she misses having someone around. She moved in about the time I became a Ranger in the army. She's been staying in assisted living for years now. Shaking it off I head into my mom's apartment. I should have stretched it out this morning but I forgot, and I know the tightness will soon turn into a dull throb that will agitate me all day. I roll my shoulder, trying to get the tightness out of it. I’d never had to cook until now and what I do in the kitchen should not be called cooking. Probably because my mom was so good at it growing up I never had a need to try. I’m worthless when it comes to doing anything in the kitchen. I should have gotten a coffee while I was there, too, instead of drinking the shit I made myself this morning. I reach for my radio and clip it on to my belt as I unfold myself from the cruiser, but not before grabbing the tin of cookies I picked up at Maggie’s coffee shop on my way here. The warm liquid helps fight off some of the bitter winter chill. Itake a long pull of my coffee before putting it back into the cup holder.
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