Christmas Traditions
I don't own "G.I. Joe." That belongs to Hasbro. I'm only borrowing the characters for the duration of the story.
Christmas Eve at the Falcone-Hauser home was always a festive occasion. As usual, their mother had the house decorated inside and out, with garland, holly and lights.
This night, Vincent Falcone was out front, enjoying the solitude instead of being inside with his celebrating family. He wanted to be with them but something was holding him back. He was home after six months in Afghanistan, six months he'd rather not talk about.
Vincent didn't turn around when he heard the screen door creak shut.
"Aren't you cold?" his brother Conrad asked.
"Not really," Vincent answered, willing Conrad silent. He really didn't want talk about things. Not yet.
Conrad watched his brother. Vincent was no longer the cocky brat he used to be. He was now a leader in his own right, respected and well-liked by his men. He was fair, and even known as a bit of a hard-ass since he'd taken his own command.
Their father understood and gave him his distance since he came home. Their mother acted like she didn't notice anything was bothering him and Conrad had made it painfully obvious in his own way he was there if he needed him.
That wasn't what was bothering him though. It was the ease with which everyone got along. It was hard to fit back in after the fighting, the missions, losing good men.
Plus Conrad had Shana, his parents were happy but there was no one for him. There always had been before, but not now. Not since the decision to continue with his military career, what Conrad considered one of the best decisions he ever made.
Conrad mentally ran down his list of options before finally coming to the most suitable. He knew it would probably elicit a very vocal reaction from Vince. "I can always dig out that footage of you singing "We Love You Conrad" from "Bye Bye Birdie. . ."
"No. You wouldn't do that," Vincent said, nearly panic stricken at the thought. "That's low, even for you."
"I'm sure Shana would love to see it," Conrad said, glad he'd finally found a way to shake Vince out of the doldrums.
Vincent frowned at Conrad, but only for a moment.
"That would blow every bit of credibility I have left," he said.
"I'm afraid you don't have any left at all, at least with me," Conrad said, grinning.
Vincent suddenly had an unpleasant thought.
"Why aren't you inside?" he asked, suspicious.
"Well, I wanted to talk to you, plus Mom's busy bringing out the pie and looking for her copy of "The Sound of Music,"" Conrad said.
"Oh no."
"Oh yes. But don't worry. She won't find it."
"Why not?"
"Dad paid me $50 to hide it yesterday. I told him he didn't have to. I would've done it for free," Conrad said.
The two brothers sat for a bit, enjoying the companionable silence. It had taken them a long time to reach such a point in their relationship. And they were both grateful for it. However, they both knew the peace and silence wouldn't last long that night. Not with their mother and her Christmas Eve family traditions.
"We better head back in," Conrad said finally. "Mom's going to come looking for us."
"And she'll probably be on the warpath since you hid her movie," Vincent said.
"I doubt that. I have an idea. In the name of family peace, I offer a proposition. I'll suggest we all watch "Bullitt" tonight as long as you promise to watch John Wayne all day tomorrow with me," Conrad said.
Vincent sighed. "OK," he said. "But I want you to know-you're demented, you know that? What kind of guy spends all Christmas Day watching John Wayne?"
Conrad grabbed Vincent by the arm and started to drag him into the house.
"You know, that's been one of my Christmas traditions for years," he said, laughing.