W E L L I N G T O N
W E L L I N G T O N
"Do it right the First time, or don’t do it at all."________________________________________
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The Wellington Family was born in the military generations back and stayed there. It was home. More recently Marcus Kincaid Wellington and Elizabeth Keener met in the ‘conflict’ in the desert part of the world. He was wounded, and she was a trauma Doc. After she patched him up she sent him back to the field. He liked her o much he arranged to meet her again. (Technically he got shot, and ran over a land mine.)
Upper command didn’t approve of his injuries and sent hm back to the states, he invited her along so she acccepted. Though he did have to buy her a diamond ring first. And arrange with her CO for a transfer of duty station to match his. It was a good thing everyone aggreed with the arrangement.
Landing at Peterson Air Field she threw up. One emergency room visit later and they were a family. She finished her tour and moved around with him from hospital to hospital until her got his twenty (twenty -two) actually.
Then he shifted to private sector security, liaisoned with a lot of alphabet groups and never talked about work when he was home. Then one day they moved to Huddeen, New Hampshire and he got a job with the local Police Department.
The House he’d bought had already been remodeled to accommodate a bedroom in the basement for the Parents and a tunnel dug from house to barn/garage for the winters which got blizzardy a lot.
The last two month they’d spent in Huddeen the kids uprooted and pissed. When it was his job with the military they understood and when possible they had stayed with mom at the old location until school ended. But this time they had no choice, at least they’d snatched and moved in the middle of summer. Not that that made it any better. Not to teenagers. |
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“I Ain’t Dead, Yet!”
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W E L L I N G T O N, M A R C U S K I N C A I D || F A T H E R – P O L I C E O F F I C E R
W E L L I N G T O N, M A R C U S K I N C A I D || F A T H E R – P O L I C E O F F I C E R At Marcus (43) had joined the Marines at eighteen, at Twenty he met Kathleen (Kathy), at Twenty-one he was a father. Thankfully he avoided the more crippling and visible injuries a soldier could endure in active combat. It was the invisible injuries that cropped up later that changed his life. A daughter breaking her leg falling off a horse. A son with a dislocated shoulder in a car accident. A gunman pulling a weapon n his wife in the ear was the short and safe list.
Seeing comrades, friends, allies, get blown apart by mortar fire. A bunk mate get run over by a tank. Those things changed a man. He got better, and worse. During his psych eval for the after military job revealed a few things. Pills helped. A designated therapist helped. PTSD they called it. Survivor’s Guilt was another name they threw around. Bi Polar. Depression. Meds helped. Keeping his family safe helped more.
He moved them from the bigger cities as fast as he could after that. Small town. Quiet town. He’d checked. Nice and Quiet.▅
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“Don’t die on me yet!!!”
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W E L L I N G T O N, K a t h l e e n E l I z a b e t h || M O T H E R – OR DOCTOR
W E L L I N G T O N, K a t h l e e n E l I z a b e t h || M O T H E R – OR DOCTOR Kathy (41) joined the Army at eighteen, was in a MASH unit early. Didn’t through up and got fast tracked into medical school at the first opportunity. Being the daughter of a butcher had helped with the blood an her mom was a Vet so that helped as well.
After stepping away from the military she’d worked at a few surgical hospital's, even worked the ER more than most. And then Marcus retired and joined some agency.. legal.. that’s all she cared about. He’d joined an agency and worked with the government some how. He’d started seeing a shrink, she’d even gotten involved in some sessions so she knew it wasn’t an affair.
And then one day she came home from work and the family was moving. Marcus needed to get away from the cities, she understood. Especially with the gunman at her job last week. The Chief of Surgery didn’t survive, few did that rampage. Gang violence. Warfare in the ER. So many innocent people had died that day. Just because the wrong color got brought to her ER.▅
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“Hand me that wrench.”
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W E L L I N G T O N, S E A N D A V I D || S O N
W E L L I N G T O N, S E A N D A V I D || S O N Sean (18) was just pushing his was through school until he could join the Marines, maybe Army and Go Ranger. He’d been ROTC since junior high, pushing in based on grades and his father’s rank. Either way he was going military and was talking with recruiters about end goals, his Army Recruiter and the Marine were both at the range when he showed them his skills on his own dime. ROTC during the week, range on the weekends, and summers. And Hunting during season.
Amazingly enough he preferred working on vehicles, motorbikes the most. Spare time had him working on a bike, either his or one of his friends bikes, or car.
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“Gimmie an AAA!!!!!”
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W E L L I N G T O N, A L A I N A E L I S E || D A U G H T E R
W E L L I N G T O N, A L A I N A E L I S E || D A U G H T E R At 16 Alaina had bounced from too many schools to create a solid social circle instead relying on one close friend through the years, Jasmine. Born within minutes at the same hospital their mothers had stayed in touch across the years, making sure the girls were together as much as possible. Schools, classes, cheerleading, summer camps. It wasn’t perfect, there had been gaps, sometimes they’d been on opposing cheer squads. But the last year they’d managed to be in the same school and cheer squad.
Alaina wasn’t top of her class, nor was she the worst. Maybe 92.7 out of a hundred. But good enough to keep her grades up and stay in cheerleading. Until she moved here where the cheer squad was full. Even the junior pep rally was full. She knew nothing about small town life, and they didn’t have a gymnastics class either.
Her social life was deader than a mummy’s tomb.
And the house was at the furthest end of the street!!!!! They might as well be milking cows!!!!▅
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