Ranger and Steph belong to Janet. All mistakes are mine. This is my story-style 'Thank you' to our Veterans and also Active Duty service members ... and to the families who love them. As always, huge thanks to 'My Research Department'. And sorry, frostdance, you know I had to include 'someone'. :)

"The 'Thank You' wagon is ready to leave the building."

"Are you picking up Edna or just meeting her?" I asked my wife.

"Neither. I had a parent-inspired panic attack and suddenly got worried that since I've been taking Grandma Mazur to the VFW almost every Veterans Day for years, my Mom - or now my Dad - may ambush me there. Val said she'd drive her instead. I don't want today to be about anyone but those who deserve the attention. Soooo, Olive and I are ready to branch out and thank Veterans of every branch over in Newark with you, Tank, and your parents. If that's okay with you?"

"As if I'd pass up a chance for more time with you and our daughter. But are you sure? You could just count this as a day off and enjoy it."

She was shaking her head in a no-way gesture while I was still talking. "No. You devote just about every minute of every single day to the guys here, and I'm betting an entire other world of Vets beyond Trenton, Boston, and Miami. I can take one day and our daughter somewhere beyond our buildings to say 'Thank you' to people who may need to hear it."

"You've done enough, Babe, just by helping our men feel quote/unquote 'normal' again ..."

"Olive did that," she said, interrupting me. "Not me. Our daughter has a way of making people see themselves differently straight outta the gate ... or womb if you're specifically talking about me. Besides, where else can Olive wear her 'Army Girl' shirt complete with printed on bow belt and string of pearls?"

"Her shirt's black so she can wear it here in lieu of a Rangeman uniform anytime she wants," I teased.

"Isn't Daddy funny sometimes?" She asked our baby.

"Simy," Olive tried to repeat, but she was already looking over her Mama's shoulder to see what Mo is playing with.

The fun her dog is having without her led to a whole stream of conversation that one day we'll all be able to understand, not just Olivia.

"That's right, Olive. We should be smiling because Daddy is being a funny guy again. You are so smart for noticing what others can't pick up on."

"Babe."

Stephanie smiled at me before bending close to Olivia's tiny ear. "That's the sound of Daddy getting annoyed with Mommy."

"It really isn't," I promised both of my girls.

"I know. If you want to experience annoyed in all its glory, you just let your daughter run through the control room with an Army Girl t-shirt on. Apparently, I offended some of the guys by not giving their branches proper representation on her outfit. I started a playful war within our organization. Not only do we need a separate room now for hair-raising hair bows, I'm expecting an impending rush of 'Semper Fi, Cutie Pie' ... 'U.S. Navy Baby' ... and 'The Air Force Is With Me' shirts for our daughter that'll need a home. I'm thinking we'll be able to play a memory game by having Olive match the military logo from a t-shirt or dress with a tattoo that an Uncle has from their Army, Marine, Navy, or Air Force years."

"We can start seizing lockers down here to use as storage," is a solution I suggested. "Knowing that they'll be losing their personal space will curb their spending somewhat."

As I knew it would, it got my wife's eyebrows crinkling and her mind changing. "Don't worry, I'll figure something out. If shopping for Olive makes her Uncles happy, I'm not going to punish them for it. Both Grandpa Harry and my Dad were in the Army during a war, but Val and I were never given a chance to get to know that side of them. I don't want that for Julie or Olive. Ergo the shirt. She's as proud of her Daddy as I am."

"I don't need a shirt, Babe."

She looked my body up and down. "No ... that body definitely shouldn't be all covered up like it is right now."

"Stephanie ..."

"Yeah?" She asked, letting Olive chase our dogs one last time before we leave just so she could wrap her arms around me. "Have I thanked you for everything you've done, not only for me and our girls, but for our country?"

"Yes. You 'thanked' me quite enthusiastically this morning."

"Uh-uh, I'm not talking about the naked 'Thank God I Married You' times. I mean, the thank yous for being an Army Ranger on top of being my personal Ranger. You've gone through repeated rounds of hell since you were barely an adult, you should be thanked by more people than just your family. Though on a selfish note, I'm happy to hoard my Rangefamily. I don't think many outside this building would get why Raphael and Aubrey's wedding, Cal's engagement to Kenzie, and Olive and Angel's existences, hell your whole company, are so incredible."

"It takes a specific type of person that will step out of their lives to see how other's have to live. If you do what I do solely for applause, you're in it for the wrong reasons. But I appreciate how you see me."

"Does it irritate you to hear people say 'thank you for your service' once or twice a year when a calendar or a commercial reminds them to?"

"No. As I said, the choices I've made in my life were so I can live with myself and keep my family proud of me," I told her. "If you, my girls, and my family, can hold your heads up high while discussing me, that's all I need. Added thanks become just a bonus. My 'jobs' now aren't advertised ones, which cuts down on public accolades."

"But not private ones. I've seen your medals that you keep hidden inside that safe behind you. Olive, Julie, and I are your biggest supporters, even if you aren't officially a 'Veteran' yet ... with your doing something for someone somewhere, every 'now and not-a-freakin-again'. It seems that my 'added bonus' is embarrassing our guys with unwanted praise before heading out to spread it out beyond our building. Our little 'We Care' packages aren't as amazing as what your Mom puts together, because I can't bake, Olive's drawings of her Vet-Uncles are 'abstract' to say the very least, and I still have a hard time saying how I feel, let alone writing it out. But I think the throat clears, ceiling gazes, and misty eyes, mean they felt how thankful Olive, Julie, and I, are for all of you. I'm not sure they were excited about Olive, Gunny, and Mo's sloppy kisses though."

"Love can be messy as times. I guarantee they're happy to be doused in the slobber our family produces en masse. And the men love you, Babe."

"I hope they know it's returned ... every single day, not just on Veterans Day."

"They do, as Tank will tell you," I said, seeing our daughter be returned to us by her GodTank.

"I was just begged not to tell you how affected the guys were by yours and Olivia's gifts and the time you both spend with them," he told my wife.

"But you're telling me anyway?" She asked.

"Yes. Being the center of attention isn't easy for men trained to live in the shadows, but they appreciate knowing that people, especially those they consider family, see them and their service as honorable. Speaking for our men here, people like you and your children are why we enlisted ... and are why we continue our fight ourselves every day to survive civilian life."

"Don't you dare make me cry, Tank," Steph warned him. "But thank you. Not many realize that it's harder for you guys to live here, than it is for you to survive 'over there'. I'm so glad you make a choice every day to remain with us. I couldn't have created a better best friend for Ranger, Godfather and protector for Olive and Julie, and emotional support person for me. You're the big brother I never had and secretly have always wanted. I love you as much as I love Ranger, just in a much different, completely platonic, way. I can't picture my, Olive's, or Ranger's lives without you."

It's almost amusing how easily Stephanie reduces battle-hardened men to tears. Anyone who believes we're all a bunch of unfeeling robots, should spend a day here so they'll learn a little something about what the fuck they're supposedly experts on. Even though it's subtle to the untrained eye, there's a physically change that happens whenever they spot Olivia throwing kisses at them or Steph stops what she's doing just to say 'Hi' to them.

"You ready?" Tank asked me, passing Olivia to me to kiss goodbye, not knowing that my daughter is coming with us.

"Love you too, Tank," Steph told him, understanding that his redirection isn't him ignoring her, rather he just isn't sure what to say. "And there's a change in plans. Olive and I are tagging along with you two and Ranger's family."

"Any reason for that?" He asked her, back on familiar ground.

"Yup. I'm avoiding a potential parental ambush by hanging out with Ranger's."

His eyes flicked to me. "Do we need two vehicles?"

"No. We'll take what Steph calls the Rangebus."

"I'm not even going to call shotgun," she said to him, "knowing how you both feel about driving. Sitting in the passenger's seat should be close enough to the wheel to keep you from getting twitchy. Olive and I can amuse ourselves in the back until we pick up my in-laws."

Tank didn't say it, but I can tell he's wondering if leaving Steph and Olivia to their own devices behind us is a smart idea. It took one spitball during a stakeout she and Tank had been on together to have him concerned about my wife getting bored.

"Ella always makes my ladies some snacks for the road," I informed him.

He nodded and I could feel his relief. Even though we're in for a drive longer than one to the Burg, my daughter and food should keep Steph occupied for the hour-long drive to Newark. Of course, having my women along meant that the standard pick up time at my parents' house took a lot longer than just a walk to the door and another back out with the boxes of items Mama Manoso wanted to hand out.

Olivia is less inclined to nap in the car, now that she's older. And an hour in a vehicle had her ready to hit the ground running. Luckily, Tank and I got the gifts loaded up while my parents burned off some of her energy. The VFW Post is only a twelve minute drive from Casa De Manoso, so my daughter only had to be re-contained for a short period of time.

By then, my father is the one who needed something to do. He assured me that he and Tank could handle the boxes and I should give Stephanie and Olive the lay of our land so to speak.

My mother shook her head at him before smiling at me. "Don't mind your father, Carlos. He just wants to prove that he's still got those muscles and manners I fell so in love with even if he no longer has to show off for me."

"I'll always need to show off for you, my dear beautiful wife," Papa Manoso said to her with a wink.

Now I shook my head at the two of them. I appreciate the two of them proving to my siblings and I that marriage can be forever if you meet and marry your other half, but I shouldn't have to see it every time we're together. I'm more sympathetic to Julie's plight as she has to watch Stephanie and I interact.

"Don't make that face," Steph told me. "Your parents are perfect, even with their consistent PDAs. Instead of trying to stop yourself from telling them to keep their hands off each other, how about you show Olive and I around?"

I took her suggestion, and amid Olivia consonant-commentary I opened the door so they could head inside.

I gave Steph a chance to scope out the hall and then I laid out the seating arrangements by pointing to one table. "They're Army." I moved my hand in a different direction. "The men at the corner tables are Marines. The Navy Veterans are all over there," I said, gesturing to the area near the windows. "Air Force guys are hanging out together by the door."

"Now the guys' reaction to Olive's shirt makes sense. We can't lump everyone together. Marines are Marines, Army guys are Soldiers, then there's Sea and Air-men with the Navy and Air Force. Having everyone clearly separating themselves into their respective branches shows that."

"Not always, Babe. You'll occasionally see Navy men sitting with Marines or Soldiers and Airmen reminiscing together if they fought in the same war or have crossed paths during a battle or their deployments. We're all connecting cogs in the war machine."

"You're not cogs or machines. You're people we're indebted to ... except Morelli. I remember my mother whispering to Grandma that he was given two choices, jail or join the military. Guess that's what you meant about those choosing the wrong reasons for enlisting. If what Mom said was true, Joe's reason was to save his own ass ... not to protect everyone else's."

"Don't you waste anymore time trying to figure that man out, Stephanie," my mother advised her. "Let's focus on these men and women who deserve your thoughts." We watched her scan the room and then physically felt the smile coming that brightened her entire face. "Oh good. He beat us here. Stephanie, Olivia, you absolutely have to meet Tom. He's a Navy Veteran and retired homicide detective who's become a community, church, and party-staple. Everyone who meets him instantly falls in love with him."

"He sounds promising," Steph said.

"If Edna were here, after five minutes in his company - especially with some Jameson and his fiddle in play - she would say that the word 'Tomfoolery' was inspired by our Tom."

"I can't wait for an introduction. Olive, try to be extra cute. We've got some charming to do."

"Oh, dear Stephanie, mark my words. He'll be the one doing the charming."

"And Olivia's perfect as is," I added. "Tom doesn't stand a chance against her. But if you decide to spend time with Frank again, you should bring him here. I guarantee that he would not stand a chance. Tom takes parenting very seriously and isn't shy when he feels someone is doing it incorrectly."

"I love him already. Maybe he can adopt me." She picked up Olivia before Tank had to catch her again. "Having some experience with my mother's faux ice tea, I can spot whiskey on a table a mile away. Is he supposed to be sipping stuff in here?"

"Rules and ears bend whenever Tom enters the room," I told her.

She nodded and then eagerly followed my mother to the most animated of the tables in the room. Nothing can keep a good man down or an Irishman quiet he'd no doubt say.

"We didn't bust a single head that night. Me hand to God ... that group of hooligans took off faster than I could say slàinte," the man in my mother's sights was in the middle of saying to the table.

"I really hate to interrupt, Tom," Mama Manoso said, "but I just had to introduce you to Carlos' wife Stephanie and my granddaughter Olivia. Carlos you, of course, already know."

"Dia dhaoibh," Tom said to us, breaking out the Gaelic and accent to charm my ladies as my mother warned he would. "Stíofáinín, Oilibhia, how nice it is to meet you. Carlos, a pleasure as always."

I shook his hand, impressed with the strength still in his grip. "Good to see you again. My father may not agree with me, knowing how his wife likes to fawn all over you."

His laugh started from within and then shot immediately outward. I'm convinced the whole room felt it. "All part of me charm."

"Thank you for what you did during your Navy days, and for helping to keep your city safe after them," Steph said to Tom, trying to keep an arm around our daughter but also shake his hand.

"Do you want me to take Olivia, Babe?"

"No. That would be admitting defeat."

"The wee one just needs a little entertainment. I've got a story or two left in me," Tom offered, with a hand gesturing towards an empty chair not far from him.

"Consider us table-mates," my mother told him. "We just want to give out what we brought with us before we sit down and catch up with you. We'll be right back. Don't you dare forget any of those stories you've promised us. As you know, these five baskets are for you and your table to enjoy."

I stood with my father, a Veteran himself, holding the box containing all the Veterans Day treats awaiting distribution. We watched my mother and wife guide my daughter to give out the 'Thank You' baskets to every Veteran in the room. Each small basket contained a Thank You or Thinking of You card with a handwritten message and personal prayer inside written by my mother. A flag to be kept or to be placed on a grave as a more somber 'thank you' message, plus a gift card for a popular coffee chain was added so we can have a cup of coffee with all of them at least in spirit. And sugar cookies my mother and sister have made and decorated to look like red poppies, a way of remembering everyone who has served and is serving right now.

We may not personally know them all, but my family and I will continue to show that we owe them all. Their service, sacrifices, and suffering, will never be in vain or go unacknowledged as long as we're able to breathe freely thanks to what they've done.