Brooks and I arrived at his first duty station, Fort Stewart, excited to begin living as real married folks do: together, under the same roof. When we married we spent our first night apart, myself sharing a bed with his momma and Brooks with the rest of his section from Basic Training. After a few weeks together Brooks left for AIT, where I visited him on the weekends.

So we were super excited to begin our lives together, in the same zip code, let alone same roof.

Those were the days when being called Mrs. Julius still sent me into peals of laughter.

And when I couldn’t shake the feeling that we were merely playing an intricate version of ‘house.’

We were lucky enough to get bileting on post, as were pretty poor, making due with Brooks’s salary.

Our room had a small kitchenette and one of the first things I did was stock it with cooking items like spices and the needed supplies to make eggs or french toast for breakfast. Brooks would wake up early in the morning to do Army things and I would feed him breakfast, followed by a thorough cleaning of our room, never mind that the maid came in everyday.

But what I remember most was playing endless hands of pinochle with my beau. For hours on end. We had so much fun, talked endlessly, dreamed big dreams about our future together, and laughed without ceasing.

That was the closest we ever got to a honeymoon, amd it was perfect.

Over the years we stopped playing pinochle. Sad, but true. So long, in fact, that we forgot how to play. And the deck of cards with Pinochle emblazoned across the front mocked me every time my eyes swept across it.

This morning I told BB to shower and put on fresh jammies. We declared it a pajama day and spent a lazy day playing pinochle and eating  good food.

It was a perfect way to spend a Tuesday: reminiscing, laughing, and enjoying each other company.

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