On July 2, 1954, Margaret Houlihan showed up at the door. She looked less like herself and more like every ghost that passed through the 4077th. Her green eyes, once luminous in the dying light, reflected nothing now. Neither of them could say anything. There was nothing to say. Something Hawkeye thought was gone kept coming back.

Daniel invited her. She called looking for Hawkeye and Daniel just happened to answer. She was out of the Army and cowering in New Jersey with her sister after being promised a stateside hospital and then being assigned to Germany.

Hawkeye's reaction to the news was a cloaked indifference. In truth, it made it harder for him. There were still feelings there. A lot of them. She was in all his dreams, sometimes on the outskirts and sometimes the central character.

While he couldn't think of how to talk to her, Daniel took a shine to Margaret. He prepared a huge spaghetti dinner and gingerbread for dessert. She hesitantly took a bite from the mound of pasta and smiled, digging in. She drank an entire glass of milk and went back for more. She ate two big slices of garlic bread. She said the gingerbread was the best she'd ever had and demolished a piece and a half. Hawkeye watched her and picked at his own meal.

He'd never seen her so pale or so sick looking. He guessed she was drinking a lot. That turned out to be true. That night, though, she was chug-a-lugging milk and turned down a beer after dinner.

"Ben, why don't you take Margaret out to sit on the porch, watch the boats," Daniel said softly. Margaret offered to help clean but he shooed them both out of the kitchen. Hawkeye dragged two Adirondack chairs together on the back porch, facing the ocean. Late evening sailors were out. The water cast golden glints into the sunset.

Margaret plopped heavily into her chair, shedding her sandals. "This place – I can see why you missed it. It's so quiet ," she smiled wanly.

"Yeah, well, wait til the 4th because all the tourists will be through mooching lobsters. We usually brave the crowds and go to the festival downtown if you're game."

"I'd like that," she said softly, staring at her hands. Hawkeye noticed her nails were torn and ragged. He wanted the Margaret he knew back, not this sad-eyed woman who didn't look like she could walk three steps. He wanted her to boss him around, pull rank, get angry, draw blood. Instead of waiting for all this, he reached over and held her hand, caressing her palm with his thumb.

Margaret sighed and closed her eyes. She didn't let go. They sat there for a few hours silently, listening to the water crash against the rocks. Hawkeye woke up when the screen door kerboinged and Daniel came out with a big bowl of popcorn and some sodas. "Thought you kids might like a snack," he smiled, giving the bowl to Hawkeye. Margaret stirred in her sleep.

"Popcorn? "

"Honey, I put enough butter and salt on it to sink a ship. I hear butter was hard to come by in the war."

Margaret happily grabbed the bowl and a ginger ale. "Daniel, you should join us out here. We're putting each other to sleep," she said.

"Naaah. Think I'm going to take my walk and see if anyone's got a card game going tonight. So, I'll see you two later."

Hawkeye knew what his father was doing. He snagged some popcorn and sipped his Dr. Pepper. "See the lighthouse out on the spit? It's been there since 1870. My grandfather used to fill in as caretaker sometimes."

"Hey Hawkeye?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for this. I'm feeling a little lost. That's an understatement. I'm really feeling lost and this is the first time I've felt comfortable since I've been back."

He fiddled with the soda bottle. "How long have you been back stateside?"

"Four months. I was at the 8063rd and then I went to Tokyo and then Germany and I was outprocessed at Fort Dix. I haven't really done anything since then. I bought the car, I stayed with my sister but my father's not happy with me. I just don't feel like myself, like I'm still going to have to go back. Do you feel the same way?"

Hawkeye jerked up in his seat. She hit the bullseye. "Everything feels temporary and I can't convince myself it's not," he said. Margaret reached over and held his hand again. "With you it's like I'm seeing a ghost."

"Same here. When you opened the door my knees were knocking. I think your dad's been very worried about you. You're skin and bone."

"So are you," he said, tightening his grip. They sat for a long time. Margaret was snoring soundly and he didn't have the heart to wake her. Instead, he picked her up – she was so light – and hauled her up to the guest room.

Before he could slide her into bed, her grip tightened around his shoulders and she gave him a buttery kiss. "Thank you," she muttered, before letting go and sliding into the covers. Hawkeye stood in the doorway a long time, watching her sleep. He was already feeling a little better.

Daniel met him on the stairs. "She's out like a light, Dad."

"Take care of her, son. I don't know what happened to the women you used to write me about, but she's in the somewhere. We'll feed her and pamper her until she's sick of it. You love her don't you?"

Hawkeye hugged his father. "I do, Dad," he whispered. "Maybe saving her will save me."