Christmas Eve: frosty air, a bright moon, red ribbons on every door, laughter spilling into the streets, and families gathering. The sound of distant carols and the glow of holiday lights bring joy to those reuniting, but for those alone in a strange city, the holiday only sharpens the ache of homesickness.
Looking at the flickering lights of thousands of homes outside the window and the fireworks blooming in the city sky, Nick's eyes couldn't help but mist over.
A gust of cold wind finally brought him back to reality. Feeling the weight of the silence, he looked at Ryan Orston, who was focused on the road. "It's Christmas, and I'm keeping you guys from your families. Do you miss home?"
Ryan smiled and shook his head as he drove. "I was in the service for seven or eight years; I got used to it a long time ago. To say I don't miss home would be a lie, but it's not like it was during my first year of basic training."
"Back then, I was just a recruit. As soon as the holiday music started playing on the radio, we all lost it. Luckily, the COs and the squad leaders stayed with us. Between the hazing and the jokes, the homesickness eventually faded."
"By the second year, it was easier. I still missed them, but I knew how to handle it. By the third year, I was the one comforting the new guys."
Nick chuckled. "Once things quiet down after New Year's, take some time off to see your parents—or just fly them out here. The company will pick up the tab for the flights, the hotel, everything."
"Thank you, Mr. Harryson," Ryan said, his voice bright with excitement. "Actually, my parents wanted to thank you in person."
"Thank me?" Nick asked, curious.
Ryan nodded. "Yeah. When I first got out, I didn't have a plan. My family pulled every string they had and spent a lot of money trying to find me a decent job, but nothing felt right."
"Being here with you and my old unit makes me really happy. It feels like being back in the squad—training together, being on watch, messing around in the barracks. It's a good feeling. Plus, the work is stable, the apartment is amazing, and the pay is better than anything I'd find back in our small town."
"I'm the one who should thank them," Nick said, shaking his head with a smile. "They gave up years of time with their son so he could protect the country. If I didn't treat you guys right after all that, I wouldn't be able to look them in the eye."
He put himself in their shoes. In an era where everyone is chasing comfort, how many parents are willing to see their kid ship off? To support them through years of deployments and rank jumps? The peaceful life ordinary civilians enjoy is only possible because of people like this, working in the shadows.
The world stays quiet because someone else is carrying the weight.
Speaking of which, Nick felt a twinge of guilt. These guys had finally finished their service and earned some peace, yet he'd snatched them up and was making them work through the biggest holidays of the year.
"Mr. Harryson, we're here," Ryan said, breaking his train of thought.
"Alright, let's grab the stuff and head up."
The two of them unloaded the trunk and headed for the elevator. It was Christmas Eve, and Nick definitely wasn't going to spend it alone in his apartment eating frozen ramen. He'd had Ryan help him buy a trunk full of supplies so they could celebrate with Wallace and the rest of the team.
"Mr. Harryson! What are you doing here? Come on in!" the veteran who opened the door shouted excitedly. "Hey guys, the boss is here!"
"Mr. Harryson!" The men in the living room all stood up to greet him.
Nick handed over the bags and smiled. "Since it's the holidays and I know it sucks being away from home, I figured I'd crash your party. Let's spend Christmas together."
The room erupted in applause.
Nick signaled for them to take a seat, joking, "To be honest, I just didn't have anywhere else to go, so I'm here to steal some of your food."
After the laughter died down, Nick looked around. "Who's missing?"
Wallace smiled. "Brent and a few of the others are pulling shift at the office. After midnight, a few of us are heading over to swap out so they can come back and celebrate."
Nick nodded. "On Christmas, too. Thank them for the hard work."
"It's the job, sir," Wallace said.
"Alright, enough shop talk." Nick looked at the flour and the various bowls of meat and vegetables on the dining table. "What's the plan? You guys are making dumplings?"
"You can skip the big turkey dinner, but you can't skip the dumplings," one of the guys said. "It's not a holiday without them. It's a tradition from our time in the service."
"Exactly. You can go without a feast, but you need the dumplings. Goes even better with some sauerkraut."
"It's different on the holidays," another added. "We can eat them anytime now, but tonight they actually mean something."
"You get tired of other food, but never these—especially the ones with the scallion filling like my mom makes."
"Scallions? Please. My mom's chive and pork recipe is the gold standard."
"You guys are crazy. Cabbage and pork is the only way to go—it's classic."
As the debate got heated, Nick's mouth curled into a smile. Compared to their sacrifice, his own little family dramas felt small.
Dumplings were common enough; you could buy them frozen or get them at any takeout joint. But for people from the North, dumplings were the holiday. It was the same for people from the South with their rice balls—no matter how fancy the dinner was, the meal wasn't complete without that specific taste of home.
These weren't just food anymore; they were an emotional anchor for people hoping for a better year. For a group of strangers in a foreign city, it was the only way to chase away the lingering chill of homesickness.
Amidst the banter, Nick rolled up his sleeves and joined the line. In that moment, he wasn't the CEO; he was just another traveler far from home.
And as it turned out, the dumplings reflected the men making them. Since they were all rugged vets, the results were big, sturdy, and a little clumsy-looking. But the skins were thin, the fillings were huge, and paired with a few shots of good bourbon, they tasted exactly like home.