The air hummed with expectancy. Children played while mothers tried to rein them in. Justine smiled at the sight as she and Billy walked onto the lawn. “You can do this,” she whispered to him. “We’re controlling our image, and if there’s publicity from this, it’ll be good publicity. We’re welcoming home the troops.” It wasn't long before the usual murmurs of recognition began. “Hey, aren’t you Justine Campbell?” a red-haired mother of two asked. She looked ready for a night on the town, with her hair carefully styled and her makeup flawless. One of her kids held a hand-lettered sign: Welcome Home, Daddy! “Yes, yes, I am.” Glad she had been able to leave the cane home, Justine leaned over slightly to talk to the small boy with the sign. “That’s a terrific sign. I know your dad will be thrilled to see you.” “It’s been so long,” his mother said.
