Marine Returns From Okinawa to Find Her Bungalow Already Sold

Chad looked down at his shoes, his jaw tightening as he rubbed his knuckles against his jeans.

“You spent my house on poker,” I said.

“It was not poker, okay?” Chad muttered, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper. “It was a bad run on the college games. Some guys from Gulfport were coming to the shop. They were asking Dad when I got off work.”

“So you took my home,” I said.

“Dad wanted to help me,” Chad said, his voice shaking with a sudden, defensive anger. “He said you had the Marine Corps, you had a pension, you had everything. I had some guys threatening to burn my car with me in it.”

“Why did you not ask me for help?” I asked.

“You?” Chad laughed, a short, bitter sound. “You would have told me to do push-ups, Maria. You would have given me a speech about personal responsibility and then walked away.”

“I would have helped you with a payment plan,” I said.

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  • Andrew Collins is a contributor who enjoys writing about everyday topics, people, and ideas that spark curiosity. His approach is simple and conversational, aiming to make stories easy to read and relatable. Outside of writing, Andrew follows current trends, enjoys long walks, and likes turning small observations into meaningful stories.

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