“I just feel awful, Miss Elizabeth, hurting that pretty nose of yours.” She laughed, the sound muffled. “It’s all right, Henry, it was an acci...ent. It’s no big deal; it’ll stop in a minute. I’m fine.” The storm raged outside, the wind and rain hammering the house as the lightning crackled across the sky. The thunder was loud and close, rolling in waves above, the vibration of the loud thunderclaps felt as a visceral thing. In truth, Beth felt very secure with Henry, her head resting in his lap,. I bought a resupply of legal pads and large envelopes at the PX. I wrote Megan at least two letters a week. In return, she wrote me at least as often. Her letters were precious to me. She often sent me pictures of herself and our daughter Shelby. Roxie was her unofficial photographer, so some of the pictures were quite revealing. I had a collage of the pictures she'd sent me scotch-taped to the door of my wall locker, along with the sentimental Valentine's Day card she sent me. The irony of. More

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