Homecoming
The videophone link was chiming as Jeff opened the door to his room at the officer's billeting. "I'm coming, I'm coming," he called, letting his gear slide off his tired shoulders to thump against the tiles. He turned to shut the door, then hurried to the screen and tapped the 'answer' icon. "Tracy," he barked.
A female communications officer appeared, and her bright eyes and crisp uniform made Jeff painfully aware of his sunburnt, stubble-chinned, and all-around disheveled state. "Good morning, Colonel," she chirped in a pure Received Pronunciation accent. "Your wife is on the line. Shall I patch her through?"
He barely got out a strangled "Yes!" before his wife's face blinked into view. "Lucy! Oh, Luce." Jeff reached out and touched the screen with a grubby hand. "Sweet mercy, it's good to see you."
Her eyes brimmed with tears, and she reached out to press her palm against the screen. "Oh, my darling! I wish I was there."
He moved back a step, drinking in the sight of her. "I know, I do too." He rested his palm against the image of hers. "I'll be home as soon as the briefing is over. Three days, at the most."
Lucy wiped her eyes. "Wonderful." She removed her hand from the screen. "We'll be waiting for you."
He cocked his head at her. "'We?'"
"Yes, my darling," answered Lucy, her tears beginning again. "I'm pregnant."
Jeff, mouth agape, dropped hard onto the bed. "F.A.B.," he breathed.