Shortly before Capt. Ludlow went to bed on his 58th birthday, Sgt. Trent called him.
“I've got some bad news,” he said gravely. “We're already in danger of getting shut down.”
“What?”
“Sgt. Tito Gonzalez said he'll take it on the chin – he says he is going to have to spread the machines with our product in it out because they nearly created a Covid super-spreader event with people lining up to get to the machines. We're sold out, Captain, in eight hours.”
Capt. Ludlow sat down, and in his relief, laughed so hard and so loud that his entire family gathered around him, and the Trents next door all came out on the porch in the rain, enjoying the thunder of Capt. Ludlow's basso profundo merriment.
“Happy birthday, Captain,” Sgt. Trent said, “and good night.”
“Man, you have nearly given me a heart attack, and you are breaking my ribs laughing, and you're just going to slide on out now?”
Capt. Ludlow laughed until he cried, and could hardly tell his family about it because it had just tickled him so much – and then they all started laughing, while the Trents were already laughing.
“That was a beautiful moment, Vincent,” Mrs. Trent said. “Just good energy between neighbors and partners, and something to celebrate together.”
“I thought I'd approach it that way and give him a good laugh,” Sgt. Trent said. “Capt. Ludlow is nothing but intense – he's not getting less intense with age, either, because now he's got those grandchildren to provide for. It's also easy for military men to lose the brighter sides of themselves.”
Mrs. Trent smiled gently.
“We know it takes a lot to do what has to be done for this country,” she said. “Thank you for your service, Vincent, and that goes for all of y'all veterans, today and every day.”