The buttons were on the wrong side and based on the cut of the neckline it was not a man’s cardigan. “Fuck it,” I mumbled and slipped it on. I... was a perfect fit and so soft against my skin. It had a wide V-neck and barely covered my nipples, “shit, these two women are really trying to make a point,” and I had no idea what the point was. “Hey Missy,” I heard Pat call down the stairs, “are you decent yet? Coming down to see my new best friend,” she said and I heard her on the steps that. Macka was an opportunist. He borrowed Kanga’s negatives to print himself some copies, and he printed them by the dozen, making them up into sets. He was making money selling the sets around the platoon until Kanga demanded his negatives back. Even then I think Macka kept some of them, though he never admitted it.To help pass the time, and due to perennial lack of things such as Christmas cards, we used to make our own to send home; I would write the words, and Kanga would illustrate them. Here. They had used my newest pair of moccasins to determine my shoe size.Besides appreciating their thoughtfulness, they made me realize it was yet another thing I’d missed that someone else took care of.After church, all the families from Virginia got together for supper, reminiscing about Virginia, the trip, and our first year here. Right after supper, I found Mima and gave her the porcelain doll I bought for her Christmas present. The happy tears she shed kept me smiling for several days, as did. Now in dry clothes (albeit clothes about three sizes to large for her) she curled up in a ball on my bed, her head on my lap, my hand stroking her wet, blonde hair as she started to cry again. Her hair, usually straight and hanging down to her butt was wet and disheveled. The only thing I was able to distinguish was her saying my name, Matt, every now and again. Her sobs began to decrease and the tears stopped flowing as she readied herself to tell me what happened. I sat there silently,.