"Are you going out tonight, Champ?" Jack ran the sponge over the final dish, rinsed it, and handed it over to Duke.
"Yeah, I promised Jeff and Sandy I'd meet up with them. Figured we'd head into town and see if we could scare up Jimmy." He dried the dish and set it atop the others in the cabinet, shut the door, and hung the dishcloth on its hook.
"Can I come?" Drew kicked her legs in her chair her math homework spread out in front of her on the kitchen table.
"We'll be out way past your bedtime, Rabbit." Duke walked to her and rested his hand on her head looking down at the photocopied worksheet she was poring over. "You have school tomorrow. You forgot to reduce number six."
"Oh, thanks." She erased the box around her final answer and finished the problem properly. "I hate mixed numbers. I can come. I won't be a problem, I promise. I'll just sit somewhere and be really quiet. It's the last week of school, anyhow. Sandy and Jeff are nice. Jimmy is, too."
"I'll agree with that, but I'm afraid you're still not coming. First, I've never seen you just sit and be really quiet since you were born, and second, you're about thirteen years too young." Duke leaned down to her ear. "There's a bigger common denominator for number eight."
"So I can't go?"
"Of course not, Rabbit. I'm not taking you to a bar 'till you're twenty-one. By then I'll be…" Duke thought about it for a bit, then abruptly stopped himself. "Um…Finish your homework, Rabbit."
"Crap."
"Young lady…" Jack's voice held warning.
"Crud."
"Better. Well, Champ, have a good time. Are we expecting you back tonight?" Jack poured himself another glass of wine. He filled a second glass to take out to Mamma in the den."
Duke hadn't always ended up sleeping in his own bed after nights out. Duke knew his stepfather was perfectly aware of what he got up to on those nights. He'd only ever spoken to him about it once, back when Duke was running Special Forces schools.
"You use rubbers?"
"Every time."
"You'd better."
"Yessir."
"Your mother wouldn't be happy."
"Nossir."
"It's your life."
Duke doubted he would stay out all night. "Leave a light on for me, Jack."
Jack looked relieved. "Sure thing, Champ. Keeping your eye on the prize, right? It's about time you thought about it. I'd rather you break frat regs than keep screwing around."
Duke was more than a little surprised. "Really?"
"Yes. You're too old to keep playing games all night. There's some terrible things going around out there. It's in the news every day."
"What games are you playing, Duke?"
They had forgotten Drew was in the room. I guess she can sit quietly. Duke looked to his baby sister, who was staring back over her shoulder at him, chewing on her eraser.
"Pinball. Pool. That kind of thing. That one with the pies…Trivial Pursuit."
"Ugh. All night? Borrrringgg. No wonder you're coming home."
"Most likely." It's been so long. I get drunk enough, I just might screw up and, well, screw the wrong woman. Still… "So, yeah, leave a light on for me."
"Will do, Champ, have a good time. Drew, you done with that worksheet yet?"
"Almost, Pop."
Duke went downstairs to get ready. It didn't take long. He changed into cleaner jeans and better shoes. He gave himself a look over in the mirror while he wet down his comb and ran it through his hair, figuring he could get away without shaving. Duke splashed on some cologne and then pulled on a black t shirt, tucking it into his pants and his dog tags under the shirt. He checked himself again, and it came to him that Scarlett had seen him in civvies maybe five times. He tried to think of more, but couldn't.
If she were just a girl at a bar, and I walked in, would we connect?
Duke knew if he saw her, he'd probably try to pick her up, at least buy her a drink and win himself a little conversation. He wondered if she'd respond, or, maybe, even see him and want him to come over.
But it wouldn't be like the others. I wouldn't do that to her.
He grabbed the keys to the Charger and climbed the stairs.
"Bye Duke, have fun."
"Night, Rabbit. Go to bed on time." He pushed out to the den, and gave Mamma a kiss on the cheek. "Goodnight, Mamma."
"Conrad. Jack says you asked us to leave a light on?"
Duke glanced at his stepfather, who was grinning widely. "Yeah, please. The porch light, maybe a lamp. I'll be back late."
"But you'll be back tonight?"
"I'm thinkin'." He kissed her again. "Goodnight, Mamma."
"Be safe, Conrad. Don't hesitate to call if you can't drive." She smiled. "Say hello to Jeff and Sandy for me.
"Don't you see them everyday at the school?"
"Most days. Say hello, anyways. If you find Jimmy, give him my love." She patted him on the lower back.
"Sure, Mamma." Duke grabbed his leather jacket from the closet and went to get the Charger.
Duke drove all the way to downtown St. Louis. He would have preferred Mikey's in Musick's Ferry, close to home and familiar, but Jimmy lived in the city, and had said he might put in an appearance. Jimmy tended to have busy evenings, gigging at clubs, bars and events with his band. So, instead of the familiar small-town tavern he found himself walking into the Royale downtown.
He spotted Jeff and Sandy. They had grabbed a table in the corner with a view of the entire room. Duke appreciated it. Sandy, a district psychologist for the St. Louis School system, understood his need for a clear view. Duke preferred not to have his back to a room. Sandy knew exactly why. They never discussed it openly. Jeff, who taught music at the same high school Mamma taught history, may not have known the psychobabble for why Duke felt jumpy if he couldn't see everything, but he knew it was important enough to go along with.
Duke had known Jeff since the fifth grade. He'd been walking to school from his aunt's coffee shop and found Delph Koch and company circled around a scrawny bespectacled kid with a stack of books and an instrument case. When he saw Tubby kick the books and instrument case out of his hands, when Delph had stepped in to bully in earnest, Duke had streaked across the street to pop Delph a good one on the chin. The bullies had scattered. He'd thrashed each and every one of them already, and would thrash them all several times over in the following years.
He'd picked up the kid's books, handed him his clarinet and put his hand on his shoulder. He was a little guy, four inches shorter than Conrad and skinny as a rail.
"You OK?"
The kid straightened his glasses. "Yeah." He opened his clarinet case. "They broke my reed. I don't have a spare. Now I've got to get another one before my lesson. Know where there's a music shop?"
Conrad shrugged. "In this town? There's no music shop. Maybe closer to the city."
"Oh. Great. Oh well. Not that it hasn't happened before. Everywhere I go some jerk wants to beat me up." He shut the case and straightened his sweater and tie. "I guess I'll just have to tell my new teacher and hope she has a spare at her house."
"Why are you dressed up?" Conrad eyed the tie. He looked down at his own blue shirt, hanging open over his white undershirt.
"For school, right? My name's Jeff, by the way." He juggled his books and case and offered his hand. Conrad smiled and shook it. "Don't you dress for school? My last school, we had uniforms like this. Of course, that was a private school."
"I wouldn't wear a tie to school. The only time I wore a tie was Opa's birthday in Germany. You couldn't get me in a tie again if you tried. I'm Conrad. You're new in town." It wasn't a question.
"Yeah, my mother moved here after the divorce. She's the new librarian." Jeff looked angry. "My dad's back in Springfield. He's a jerk. I hate him."
"So it's just you and your Mamma?"
"Yeah."
"Me too. Well, I mean, there's the Oncles and Tantes and my vetters. Grampy and Grammy. But…yeah, me too."
"Your mom divorced your dad?" They started walking towards the school.
"No. She'd never do that. Pappa was a great man. He loved Mamma and me. She'd never divorce him. Never. And he'd never divorce her." Conrad tightened both hands into fists.
"So, where is he then?"
Conrad didn't answer.
"Oh. Sorry." Jeff looked up at him. "Whose class are you in?"
Conrad welcomed the change of subject. "Miss Patty. She's new, too. She's nice, and kinda pretty." He had already brought the young new teacher three apples over the last week, and had to stay four times cleaning the blackboard or writing standards for fighting.
"Hey! Me too!" Jeff looked worried. "Are those guys in our class?"
"Tubby is. Don't worry, he'll leave you alone. They all will."
"How can you be sure?"
"I'll take care of them. They bug you when I'm not around, lemme know." Conrad grinned. "I can handle those jerks."
"Thanks. Hey, you want to come over to my house after my clarinet lesson? When I tell Mom what you did, she'll give you all the ice cream you want."
"Sure, I guess."
Jeff noticed Duke before he had gotten halfway across the bar. "Hey!" Smiling broadly, he jumped up and grabbed his hand, pulling them together for an embrace. Duke slapped Jeff's back a few times. "Oh, Wow, Conrad, you scared the shit out of me."
"Conrad, you big ox!" Sandy squealed and threw her arms around his neck, planting a large kiss on each cheek. Duke wrapped his arms around her and lifted her feet off the floor. She looked at him probingly. "How are you feeling?"
"Much less comatose." He set her down. All three sat around the table, and Jeff waved for a waitress.
Sandy frowned. "Don't joke, Conrad. It isn't funny."
Duke grabbed a handful of pretzels. "Trench humor. Laughing makes it easier."
She put her hand on his. "I know, Conrad."
Duke leaned back in his chair. "Hey, Sandy, I know it's 'cause you care, but do you think you cold refrain from psychoanalyzing me tonight? I'm on leave."
She smiled and shrugged. "Sorry. I'll stop. We'll just have a good time."
Jeff broke in to snap the tension. "Yeah, let's have a few brews, maybe some of the harder stuff. I haven't seen Jimmy yet. But you know him. If he gets here, he gets here. If he doesn't he'll find a good excuse. So, how's life treating you, Conrad? What's going on right now in G.I. Joe?"
It was then that a young pretty girl with an apron stopped at their table. "I knew it! I knew it! I saw you as soon as you walked in and I knew it was you!" She smiled as she gushed. "Oh my God! Duke! Wait 'till I tell everyone!"
The sinking feeling in his gut almost hurt. The last thing Duke wanted was to be thrust in the spotlight in downtown St. Louis. He wondered if he should cut the evening short. I can't handle it tonight. I don't want to put on a show. We should've gone to Mikey's. People already know me there. No one cares.
Jeff stepped in to save the problem. "Look, miss…what is your name?"
"Amanda."
"Amanda." Jeff pulled out his wallet and waved a bill. "I'll give you a $50 tip if you keep it quiet that he's here. If anyone mentions that he looks like who he is, you tell them that the nose is all wrong or something."
Amanda scrunched her face in thought. "That, and he takes his picture with me later."
"You drive a hard bargain." Jeff turned to Duke. "Is that kind of thing OK?"
"Umm, I guess. If I were in uniform, no. But it's OK in civvies as long as I'm not doing anything stupid. Weird, but OK." Duke shrugged.
"Fine, but I get to take the picture." Jeff nodded. "And Sandy has to be in it, too, just in case you decide to make some sort of strange accusation later."
Duke hadn't thought of that. It generally didn't occur to him that a woman might sink so low.
"Sure, I just want to be able to prove to my friends that I saw him." Amanda lifted her pad. "What can I get you to drink?"
Duke nodded towards the bar. "Is that Schlafy maibock on tap?"
"Sure is." Amber looked proud. "We're one of the few places that carry it."
"Bring me a pint of that."
Jeff nodded. "Me too, and one for the lady, too."
"Anything to eat?"
"Duke?" Jeff held up a menu.
"I dunno, Jeff, something to snack on."
"Bring us a big thing of fries, then." Jeff dropped the menu. "Is that OK, Sandy?"
"Fine with me. Extra ketchup."
Duke noticed Sandy' hand touch Jeff's lightly. In fact, he had seen them touch each other on the hand or arm several times since they'd sat down.
Really? Maybe I'm imagining things.
Amanda wrote down their order and went back to drop it off. The bar was pretty full, and people seemed mostly preoccupied with whatever group they'd come with. Single guys at the bar were focusing on trying to pick up the single women, and the single women were concentrating on magnetizing the right guys. Duke figured as long as he stayed with Jeff and Sandy, he would be able to escape further recognition.
"Sorry about that, Conrad. Guess I wasn't thinking. Anyhow, how are things going?"
"My day is pretty full, Jeff. Frankly, most of it is paperwork. The average day is plenty of PT, meetings, inspections and paperwork. Budgets and shit. Reading reports. Monitoring everything that's going on in the world to make sure Cobra's being good. Taking care of them when they're not."
"I suppose the technology is pretty advanced. In terms of monitoring and weaponry." Sandy leaned forward.
"I don't understand a good deal of it myself. I know when it's working, and how to read most of it, but I'm not going to say I grasp how a lot of it works. Still, I've learned a lot."
"I can't believe you're flying jets and helicopters." Jeff looked up as Amanda threw three beer mats down on the table and set down three pint glasses. "Thanks, keep a tab running." Amanda smiled and left. "That isn't normal."
"No, it isn't normal. I've got quarters on an aircraft carrier. I've been taught to deep sea dive. I never thought I would ever need my own wetsuit. It never once entered my head that my name would be stenciled on a jet. I thought I would jump out of airplanes, not fly them. Let me tell you; helicopters are a lot of fun, as long as no one is shooting at you. Even then, really." Duke lifted his glass and sipped at his beer.
"It's the 'shooting at you' part I don't like." Sandy shook her head and played with a pretzel. "I really had thought you were done with being on the front lines. Weren't you happy running Special Forces School like your stepfather?" Duke watched as Jeff put his hand on top of Sandy's, and left it there.
"Sandy, I was getting bored. I liked it, but it was dull."
"Risking your life is better? In college, you were interested in history. I kind of thought you'd end up some sort of History professor." Her hand turned over and clasped Jeff's.
That struck Duke as odd. He couldn't see cramming himself into a jacket with patches on the elbows. "You do know the NFL was scouting me my freshman year? My only year, really. Had I stayed, I'd probably have gone pro. Gotten the degree as back up." He stopped as Amanda brought a tray covered with French fries. "Risking my life? It certainly isn't boring. I've been to every continent, Sandy. Every one. Even Antarctica. I've wandered through more countries than I ever dreamed of seeing. You should see all the pins in Jennifer's map."
"Sounds thrilling to me." Jeff chased a few fries down with a swig of beer. "I've always wanted to go to Austria. All over Europe. I've only been to France and England." He looked to Sandy. "Wouldn't that be fun?"
"Sure. But, Conrad, do you really get to see much of these places when you're fighting?"
"The battles are there, the missions happen, but there's usually time around them. I always try to grant a day or two of down time after anything particularly hairy. I've wandered through souks, bazaars, night markets, ruins, museums…everywhere you could want to see. The people! The food!" Duke grinned.
Sandy grinned back at him. "OK, I'll let up. It does sound romantic." Her thumb rubbed the side of Jeff's palm.
"Speaking of romance, are you two playing footsie under the table, too, or have we not moved beyond holding hands yet?"
Both Sandy and Jeff blushed and quickly pulled their hands apart. Jeff looked sheepish. "Ahhhhhhh, yeah. That. I sort of wanted to put it in one of my letters, but you know, I didn't quite get around to it."
"Really? You told me about your mother's bunion surgery, Jeff. I opened that letter at lunch, by the way." Duke tried to smile warmly, but something in his gut ached, and he couldn't say why. "Why wouldn't you tell me?'
"I don't know. See, when Sandy was assigned to our part of the district two years back, we started to eat lunch together in the band room whenever she was on our campus." Jeff had returned to town from University to be the High School music teacher. He ran Orchestra, Jazz band, Marching Band, Choir and Glee club. Sandy had spent longer getting her master's, but eventually found her way back to counsel high school students and run IEPs. "Anyhow, you know, we hung out after work a few times. Then a few times more. Then we went out to dinner, a movie. One thing led to another."
Sandy smiled at Jeff lovingly, then glanced at Duke. "It just sort of happened, is all. I know in school we never thought about it, and now I don't know why." Jeff put his arm around her shoulders.
Jeff thought about it. Jeff thought about it a lot. He just never told you. But he got you in the end. Well, I didn't really see that coming, either. Stupid of me.
In college, Sandy had gone from a stick with glasses and a heavy sweater to a slim yet curvaceous bombshell. Most of the single male population of Musicks Ferry had made a try for her. She had her pick, and she picked the scrawny music teacher. Because Sandy wasn't shallow, and Duke knew it. She would want a man who was honestly devoted to her, not someone who liked her as a prize. A man who loved her for who she was and had always been. Really, that's what he wanted for her, too. Duke knew Jeff had secretly pined for her since the tenth grade, but Jeff had sworn him to secrecy.
"Well, why not, right? Good for you. As long as it's what you want, then enjoy the Hell out of it. Are you both happy?" Duke drained his glass.
Jeff smiled. "Oh yeah."
"Blissfully. We're scandalizing the town and moving in together." Sandy finished her beer and motioned to Amanda for another round.
Duke suddenly felt very lonely. Are you kidding me?
Jeff stood. "Excuse me, but I have to make a little trip. Back in a bit."
Amanda brought their second round. Sandy looked at Duke for a minute, then started in on her second beer. "Surprised?"
"Yeah, a little. Thinking about it, I shouldn't be, should I?" Duke dipped four fries in ketchup and scanned the bar. Still no Jimmy. Right now, he really wanted Jimmy to be there, so he wouldn't feel like the third wheel.
"He's very good to me, Conrad."
"Of course he is, Sandy. It's Jeff. He's the best person I know."
"You approve?"
"Whole heartedly. I wouldn't have you with anyone else. This way, I know I'll never have to come back here and beat the crap out of some jerk who hurt you." Duke tried to laugh. It came out slightly bitter.
"Conrad…don't tell him, will you? You won't tell him? I don't know how he'd take it."
"Sandy. Of course I won't tell him. He wouldn't like it. Not that anything came of it." Duke comforted her.
"I know. It just…it would upset him."
It was Jimmy's fault, really. Duke had been home for Christmas and New Year's. They'd all gone to Max's New Year's party, held in one of the large outbuildings. It had been cleared out and strung with Christmas lights and more. Max had hired Jimmy's band and the booze had flowed pretty easily. Jeff had gotten uncharacteristically drunk. Well, everyone was drunk, really, except the kids, but Jeff had gotten bombed and passed out in a lounge chair in the corner next to Emma, Drew and Jennifer. All four were out cold.
"Look, all I'm saying is that everyone's wondering." Jimmy smiled and sipped a martini.
"Does everybody mean a certain saxophone player?" Sandy snorted.
"Well, pretty much. That's everyone that counts. Come on, you two have known each other for years. Why not? Haven't you ever felt the urge? Sandy?"
"Conrad? The guy who kept us whole in high school?" She sounded surprised.
"Yeah, isn't he a 'knight in shining armor' kind of guy? How could you resist a man in uniform?"
"Conrad?!"
"Thanks a lot. I'm right here, you know." Duke accepted a glass of champagne from Tante Marlena.
"For now. Then you'll disappear for another year. Not exactly relationship material." Sandy took her glass. "Jimmy, it's Conrad. He can take a different woman home every night of the week. Some weeks, he does."
"Thank you so much."
"I'm not judging."
"I'll have you know it's been pretty dry, lately. I have that whole military career thing getting in the way." Duke popped a tiny quiche in his mouth.
"I'm just saying, I don't know. Have youever considered it, Conrad?"
"Not really." He lied. Of course he had. He was male. He'd wondered about it the day he met her, and again when she'd returned to town. He thought about it with every woman he met. But only for a second with most. Now with Scarlett…
Jimmy threw his hands up. "Fine. Maybe you'd give him a reason to come home more often. Ignore my wild imaginings. I've got to get back up there so we'll be ready for 'Auld Lang Syne' when the ball drops." Jimmy left to join his band mates.
"What a stupid idea." Sandy wandered out the open doors into the night air. Max had set up a few chairs, but everyone had moved inside for the count down. Duke followed Sandy. They were alone.
"You can stop flattering me, Sand. It might, you know, make my head swell." Duke came up next to her and poked her lightly in the ribs.
"Sorry, I didn't mean it that way. You do know you're a beefcake, right? Girls melt over you, Conrad."
Not the right one. But she was out of reach. "Look, would it be so bad?"
She turned her head and looked up into him. "You're never home, Conrad."
"And if I was? You can't really expect me to believe you've never thought about me that way, not even a little."
She sighed. "Ok, yeah. In high school, maybe a bit in college, I may have had a small crush on you. But you were with Maddy, Conrad. Even if you weren't, guys like you never dated skinny science nerds. But, yeah, I might have once or twice thought about what it would be like if you kissed me."
Duke put his glass down on a picnic table. Inside, the music stopped and someone announced it was almost time. He grabbed her arms. "It would be like this." Duke leaned down and kissed her. She didn't try to move away, so he deepened it and felt her hands come to rest on his chest. Everyone began to chant the count down. Sandy started to kiss him back.
"Ten…nine…eight…seven…six…five…four…three…two…ONE! HAPPY NEW YEAR!" Horns and kazoos blared, and Jimmy's band started up. Inside the outbuilding, everyone began to sing.
Duke stepped back from her. "Well?"
"You're pretty good at that." She looked a little shell shocked.
"Yeah, you know, I'm good at a lot of things." He picked up his glass and sipped champagne.
"Isn't there supposed to be some spark? Some weak feeling in my knees?" She joined him, raising her glass in a small toast.
"Yeah. I thought. You didn't feel it, huh?" Duke clinked glasses with her.
"No. It was nice, but nothing like that. Did you?"
He thought. "Nope. Nothing." Then again, Duke couldn't remember the last time he felt anything special with any of the women he'd been with. Horny, yeah. Turned on, maybe, but it wasn't that.
"Well, I guess we can say we tried. Let's not get all weird about this."
"Sure. Here's to trying." He held up his glass. "Don't worry, I won't get weird. Besides, I'm back to base in three days."
She kissed his cheek. "Conrad, weak knees or not, I still think you're an amazing guy. I love you. Just not like that."
"Back at ya." He winked and gave her a squeeze.
Duke had never told Jeff, nor had Sandy. She didn't know that Jeff had worshipped her in secret, and Duke had kept that from her. It seemed to Duke now that he'd been keeping a lot of secrets to save both of them from being hurt, and now he was the one left hanging in the breeze.
Everyone's finding someone. Everyone's happy. "Blissfully" happy. Everyone's pairing up for the long term.
"Conrad? Are you OK?" Sandy looked worried.
"Sandy, I'm fine. I'm happy for you. Really." He patted her hand.
"So, is there, maybe, anyone you've been seeing?"
Jeff reappeared and sat down, happily nodding at his fresh beer. "Conrad? 'Seeing' someone for more than a night? Are you?"
"Nah. Ain't got the time." He looked away for a split second, and then he knew that Sandy had caught it.
"I saw that. You can't hide from me." She smiled like a cat on the scent of a particularly juicy mouse.
"What?" Duke looked her straight in the eye.
"I saw you look away. You're hiding something. You could never look at me when you tried to hide something." She pointed at him. "And you did it when we asked you if you're seeing anyone."
"Hello, she's right. Those blue things in your head always get shifty when you're lying." Jeff clapped his hands. "Who is she? Spill it, Conrad."
"I'm not seeing anyone." He glanced over at the bar.
"You did it again. I saw that. You're avoiding the truth." Sandy crowed.
"No, I want another beer. I'm not seeing anyone."
"Conrad. Con." Jeff leaned forward.
"I'm not." Duke sighed. "I'm not. Maybe, well, maybe I want to be." He couldn't believe he was telling them. He found himself wanting to tell them. He'd confided more in them than almost anything. Then there were the things they knew without him having to tell them.
"All right, now you're going to tell us."
"I met a woman."
"We figured that much. You've never shown any interest in men." Sandy crossed her arms and looked smug. "Not that I find anything wrong with that. But then, that sets me apart from a bunch of people in my field."
"Shut up."
Jeff held up a hand. "I believe we can establish through observation that you are definitely interested in women, Conrad."
"Yeah, well, anyhow. I met one that blows all the others away."
"Ahhh, you're serious now. That sounds pretty serious." Jeff helped himself to more fries. "When you say 'blows the others away', you could mean that literally."
"With her? Yeah, I guess. With her, I could be. She can handle herself perfectly well in a fight. She more than holds her own in battle." He grinned at the thought.
"Wait, she's one of your soldiers?" Sandy put her beer down. "Isn't there some rule?"
"Yeah." Duke sighed. "And therin lies my problem. She's amazing."
"Yeah?" Jeff nudged Sandy.
"She's beautiful. Big blue eyes that sparkle like the sapphires. Perfect skin. Her smile makes my day. Smart, too. Confident…"
"Yes?" Sandy nodded encouragingly.
"She's sweet and fiery all at once. Temper like a wildcat, but she can usually calm me down with a word or two when I'm heated. She's just an incredible person. She's just amazing."
"Okay. Now you're getting all flowery on us." Jeff chuckled. "Never heard that before." He waved for a third round.
"And she's off-limits." Duke started ripping a napkin into tiny pieces, staring at the tabletop and the growing pile of shreds. "Oh God, it's a mess." Amanda brought over three more pints as well as three waters and set them on the table, clearing away empty glasses.
Sandy put her hands on top of Duke's, stopping him. He looked up at her. She smiled. "Sounds to me like you've fallen pretty hard, Conrad."
"Me? Nah, I'm not one for that kind of thing." He grabbed another napkin.
"You used to be, you know. Don't think I don't remember what you used to be like before..." She took the napkin from him and then moved the dispenser out of his reach. "Here, you're making a mess."
Duke took a deep swig of his third beer and tried to find somewhere to look. I shouldn't have said anything.
"You know, Con, you could, and this may be outrageous for you, you could just ignore the regulation." Jeff took a handful of fries and pushed the tray away. "Sandy, you not drinking that last beer?"
"Three is too many for me tonight. You boys can split it." She sipped from her water glass and then set the tray of cold leftover fries on the next table. "Conrad, you must have thought about it."
"I have." He put his chin in his hand and played with the saltshaker. "Over and over. Every time she looks at me. Every time we touch. Lately, every morning and every night."
"Would it be so bad?" Jeff took another gulp of beer and then tipped half of Sandy's abandoned glass into his.
"It could be. It depends upon how the brass would take it. I imagine I'd have to play it right. It's been done before and worked out." Flint, you lucky bastard. "Nothing could happen, or I could lose my entire career. It could wreck both of us."
"Have you talked to her about it?" Sandy asked.
"No." Duke glugged more.
"Wait, you described this woman as the most amazing woman you've ever met and you haven't even talked to her about it?" Sandy shook her head. "Conrad, honestly."
"I can't! I can't even bring it up, can I? If I can't do anything… I can't just tell her. There's nothing I can discuss. Even the discussion is a no-no."
"Does she feel the same way?"
"I think. I'm reasonably sure. I don't know." Duke wasn't blind, but he wasn't sure if what he saw was tainted with his own hopes.
"I say you just tell her and you both figure it out." Sandy leaned back. "She couldn't be a Joe if she wasn't bright, and you're no dunce, either."
"Thanks."
"Right, well, that's what you should do. Tell her. Could you please tell me her name? I'm getting tired of referring to this person as 'her'." Sandy sounded irritated.
"Yeah, Con, I'd like to know the name of the woman who made you spew simile like a Hallmark card." Jeff tried to add a little levity, as always.
"Scarlett." Duke felt his stomach jump.
"That's her name? That's pretty interesting." Sandy looked thoughtful. "Like, Gone With the Wind?"
"Actually, it isn't her real name. You know the army is nickname crazy. But in my unit, we use them as more than just handles. It's a security thing. Believe it or not, I can't tell you her real name. If you didn't already know, I couldn't tell you mine." Duke downed his beer in a few glugs. He was starting to feel a more than a little tipsy. "So Scarlett will have to do. She certainly does it for me." Wait, did I just say that?
"That's fine." Sandy smiled. "So, you're going to go back to your base after your leave, pull Scarlett aside and tell her how you feel."
"Sandy…"
"Don't argue, Conrad, who's the psychologist here? This will be good for you. A little romance will make your life better." Sandy warmed to her plan as she went on. "You'll tell her, and talk about it, figure out what to do. If she's as smart as you say, she'll already know you're worth the risk. Then you'll take her into those large arms of yours…"
"Sandy…"
"Don't stop me, I'm on a roll. You'll take her into your arms and then…"
"Sandy! What am I supposed to do if that doesn't happen?" Duke pulled the half pint left in her glass over and helpfully worked on finishing it. Let there be no wasted beer on my watch.
"Don't be ridiculous, Conrad. You're going to do this."
"I want to. But what if she doesn't go along? I mean…what if she says 'no'?" Duke tapped the bottom of the pint on the table. Jeff crossed his arms over his chest. Sandy smiled at him, putting her hand on his shoulder.
"That's what's been the problem all along, isn't it, Conrad? You don't really give a damn about fraternization regulations. You're just scared of being rejected again." She rubbed his shoulder. "Oh, Conrad, it's you all over. You'll pound all the bullies. You'll face a horde of screaming terrorists armed to the teeth and not flinch, but you can't bring yourself to tell a woman you love her because you're afraid she'll hurt you."
"Is everyone going to beat me over the head with this? Seriously, since I got home, almost every conversation I've had with an adult has had to do with my love life! What I'm doing. What I'm not doing. How either of those makes my mother feel. Am I lonely? Am I happy? What I'm apparently afraid of. You know, when I was five, I was afraid of dragonflies and not one person put as much effort into that as they are this."
"You were afraid of dragonflies?" Jeff's eyes widened in disbelief.
"It's freaky the way they fly around."
"Don't you have a helicopter called a-"
"Yeah, yeah, I know. I'm over it now. But, honestly. I've had enough. Can't someone talk to me about something else? Did you all get together and plan this out? 'You got blown off an oil rig, Conrad, let's make sure that if it happens again, you've spoken to the redhead.' God forbid you die al…"He stopped himself. "Never mind, forget it." Duke grumbled into his glass.
"God forbid you die alone, Conrad. No one wants that. We all think you're a wonderful man. You know, you're my friend. I love you. I want there to be someone out there who loves you the way you deserve to be loved." Sandy's voice was sad. "Well, you're right. We're beating you up, for a change. Let's talk about something else."
"Sure. Here's Jimmy" Duke grumbled. Jeff and Sandy jumped in surprise as the large black man dropped himself into the remaining chair, a rum and coke in hand. Duke had spotted him wandering through the bar in search of them.
"Sorry I'm late. We were called back for a few encores at the club. What'd I miss?" He looked around the table. "Not feeling well, Con? Usually by now you've hooked up for the night."
"Jimmy!" Sandy threw up her hands.
"Well, it's true isn't it? Hey, Con, good to see you above ground and all that. Lemme buy you a brew and you can fill me in on all the exciting parts. Heard you went to Egypt. Is it like on TV?"
In the end, Duke probably had one too many beers. He wasn't long gone, but he'd started the trip. They finished up and gave Amanda her well-earned tip and photo. He let Jeff take the keys to the Charger and rode home with Sandy. He climbed out of her car in front of the house, and watched while Jeff jumped out of the Charger. The little man came over and gave him back his keys. "Good to see you, Conrad. I know you're going back soon. We miss you, you know. It just isn't the same around here. Let me know so we can meet up again, or at least see you off. Don't mind Sandy, Con, please. She just wants to know you're happy as we are."
"I don't mind, Jeff. Not really. Probably she's right." He walked around to her window, leaned in, and kissed her cheek. "Night, Sandy. Thanks."
"Good to see you, Conrad. We miss you so much. Promise me you'll do something."
"I'll…I'll do something. I can promise you that."
"Call me when you do. Write if you can't call. Tell me, OK? I'm hoping you're going to bring this Scarlett to meet me soon. Promise me you'll do something and tell me about it."
"I promise, I'll keep you in the loop." He kissed her again, and then stood up. Jeff climbed into the passenger seat and slammed his door. Duke saw them kiss through the rear window. They drove off, and he waved after the departing car.
He turned, and saw that the porch light had been left on for him. Duke climbed the steps and opened the door. No one ever bothered locking it if they were home. It would be moronic to try a break in at Jack Falcone's home. Doubly so when Duke was home. Mamma had left a light in the den on. He switched off the porch light, and turned off the lamp as he walked past. He stumbled once on the basement stairs, then tripped over a pink troop transport Drew had left on the floor and knocked his shin against the table. He stood, leaning on the big screen and rubbing his leg.
Hmm. Had a little more than I'd intended. Good thing I got a ride home. What a night. At least I got a few beers out of it.
Duke made it to his bathroom, pulling off his shirt and tossing it in the hamper on the way. He brushed his teeth and drank as much as he could take from the tap, using his hands to splash his face a few times with cool water. He went back out to his bedroom, switched on his reading lamp and sat on the bed to pull off his shoes and socks. Then he fell back across the bed and stared up at the ceiling, feeling more than a little sorry for himself. Normally Duke tried to shove that kind of thing down; it did him no good to mope. Drink made him a little more willing to wallow.
So now I'm the third wheel. They're all wrapped up in each other. Who would have ever thought it would have ended like that?
Duke rolled over on his stomach and rested his head on one hand, fingering his quilt. His mother's mother, Grammy, had made it for him years ago. The patchwork of fabric was cobbled together from a few of his favorite childhood shirts, what had been left of his baby blanket, some worn out pajamas and, most importantly, his father's favorite shirt. He'd have taken it to base, it would be a comfort on his bed there, but he was afraid of losing it if Cobra ever managed to take out the living quarters. He ran his fingers over a few of the patches, simmering.
In the end, Jeff's a good guy, Sandy's a good woman, and they're happy, I guess. IN high school, everyone sort of thought they'd get together. Back when they were awkward geeky kids and I had to keep the pack off of them. Funny they never did. Sandy was too wrapped up in school and Jeff was too scared to tell her. Then she turned all sexy on us, and everyone figured she was too good for him.
Duke felt a flash of anger. He was as loyal to Jeff now as before, and it pissed him off to consider that people thought him not good enough for anything, just because he was physically puny.
Dammit, Sandy sees what he's worth. Good for her. And I was never really interested in her that way, was I? Was I?
He thought back a bit. Back to all the times he had come home on leave and they'd kicked around like old times. Wandering across the property, hanging out at Mikey's, catching a game or a concert at the high school or wandering into the City for a good time.
No. Not really.
Duke slid himself over to the nightstand and pulled out his picture of Scarlett.
This one, however. This one I'm interested in. This one makes me feel that. I haven't felt that in a long time. Not since…
He rolled again onto his back, holding the picture over him, looking at her in the dim light of his reading lamp. She smiled down at him.
Scarlett. I want you. I do. In every way I can. Why can't I just tell you?
Duke had thought about what it would be like to be with her from the first day. This in itself wasn't unusual. He knew he wasn't the only man in the world to imagine sex with the women he met. He was guilty. But with Scarlett, he had eventually found himself wondering a lot more. Her body tempted him, but the entirety of her being drew him to her like moth to a flame. She was worth so much more than a fun time in the sack. He could be happy just spending the day with Scarlett and no one else. He'd gone from purely pornographic fantasies to imagining sweeping her off her feet, taking her in his arms, and kissing her endlessly.
Well, mostly. I have to have someone to think about when I…yeah. Lately, it's always been her.
Duke sighed to himself and let the picture fall to his chest. His head was muddled.
Do I or don't I? Do I? Don't I? If I don't, I'll have to watch her and feel like this forever. Eventually, she'll end up with some other guy. Probably some guy from Atlanta. Someone her brothers scrape up for her.
The idea angered him. He felt jealousy for the shadowy possible other man bubble up within his gut. Duke had sensed definite sour feelings from Scarlett's oldest brother, Frank, the one time he'd met her family. Frank had seen through Duke's act, and he wasn't pleased. Duke could sympathize. Big brothers rarely liked the men drooling after their sisters.
Do I? Or don't I? If I do, it could be great. Or it could be terrible. But it could be amazing. But…crap. Why did Maddy turn into such a bitch? What happened? Back then I thought I had it all figured out. The American Dream. She turned that into a nightmare. She turned on me. Scarlett would never turn on me. She wouldn't. There's something there, or why would she keep touching me? Why did she get so upset with the fake synthoid me? She seemed so happy to see me at the end of that one. I'm pretty sure I'm reading those smiles the right way. She seems happy when I manage to get my hands on her.
Duke remembered once more how she had snuggled into his shoulder in Romania. In Alaska, she'd clung to him and rested her head on his back on the dogsled. That same mission, he'd come out of his tent to keep her company on watch by the campfire, and sat next to her. It was cold, despite the winter gear and roaring fire. He'd dared put an arm around her, pretending to be helping her get warm. Her smile had made him stay. They'd sat like that for a bit, and she'd fallen asleep against him. She had burrowed into his chest in her sleep. Duke couldn't bring himself to do what he was supposed to. He couldn't push her away. She woke up twenty minutes later, and he'd sent her to bed and roused Gung Ho for his turn at watch, and then spent the rest of the night listening to her sleep in her tent next to his, wishing she were still against him.
Do I, or don't I? I could lose my career. She could lose hers. I can't wreck her life for her. I can't…
Deep down, Duke wondered if any brass would make a move to discipline him for such a thing. He doubted they would, not if it had no effect on his ability to do his job. It hadn't so far, and even he recognized he was besotted. Sharpe wouldn't. Franks might threaten, but he probably wouldn't like the idea of finding a new field commander. Ledger wouldn't give a damn. Would Abernathy? If any of them did, it would mean dragging Flint and Lady Jaye into it, and that could make for an embarrassment in any hearing. It would mean getting rid of him, and Duke wasn't stupid enough to not know his own value. They'd put him in charge of the Joes for a reason. Maybe he could risk it, and come out on top.
Do I? Should I?
He lifted the picture again and looked at her, thinking of Jeff and Sandy, Mamma and Jack, Willy and Lena, and Flint and Lady Jaye.
I could have that. If I wanted. If I was willing to put myself out there. I could have that. Someone to love me like that. I always wanted it, didn't I? Did I?
Duke fought down his fears.
She's not Maddy. Nowhere near. She's ten times the woman Maddy was. A hundred. She wouldn't throw me away. I could have that. I want that. I want someone to look at me like that. To keep me warm at night. Not anyone. I want her.
Right. That's it. I've decided. Right? Yes? Right. I'm going to go for it. OK. Good. That's figured out. Fantastic. Fuck yeah. Go for it.
Duke closed his eyes and imagined his fingers slipping through silky fire red hair. In no time, he was asleep. His dreams were somewhat odd, but pleasant.
He woke up with a start to pounding on his door. "Duke! C'mon! It's breakfast! It's Friday! The last day of school!"
Duke found himself lying on his back across his bed still in his jeans and socks, the photograph clutched to his bare chest. He hadn't even made his way under the covers. His head felt like someone had packed it full of cotton.
Drew didn't wait for an invitation. She threw the door open and ran in, flung herself on the bed and began to jump up and down. It wasn't a good thing. Duke felt his brain spin.
"No, Rabbit, stop." He reached up and grabbed her by the t shirt, yanking her down and holding her still. "Stop, OK? No more bouncing." Duke sat up and rubbed his neck, then flopped back down when the ache shot up and across his skull.
"You're half dressed already. What, did you fall asleep again on your way to breakfast?" Drew crawled to straddle his torso and thumped him a few times. "Jungle attack!"
Duke grabbed her arms and put both in one hand. She was so small he could hold her easily, leaving an arm free to throw over his eyes. "No jungle attacks, Rabbit. Not today."
"Fine. Blue Rabbit Power!" She tried to struggle free and wrestle. Duke sighed and tossed her a foot up on his bed. She giggled. Then found his photo and looked at it. "Who's this? Is this Scarlett!? She looks nice. Is this her? It is, isn't it! Wait till I show everyone! Mamma! Pop! Jenn! Vince! Check this out!"
Duke tried to snatch his photo, but Drew managed to dodge and race out of the room. "Rabbit! Get back here, right now! Rabbit!" Duke roared. Any troop would have stopped, turned around, and handed it back, fear in their eyes. Drew had no such fear of her big brother. Duke sighed as he heard her pound up the stairs. He stood, and the room lurched to the left. Duke shook his head, clearing it, and got up the stairs just in time to see Drew put the photo on the kitchen table with a big smile. He stood in the doorway, feeling trapped, as his mother picked up the print and examined it. Vincent dropped his spoon in his bowl and leaned to see. Jennifer stood up and walked around to look for herself.
Mamma turned to see him in the doorway. She was smiling. Duke would have snatched the picture back from Drew. He would have snatched it from Vincent and Jennifer. He would never in a million years snatch anything out of Mamma's hands.
"Conrad, she's lovely. Why didn't you show me this earlier?" Mamma looked back down at the picture. "She's just lovely. What a couple you'd make."
Jennifer nodded. "That's pretty much how she looks in the newspapers. But she's usually not smiling like this. That's Lady Jaye and Cover Girl, too." She pointed at the other women. "They're all pretty, but, Con, I think you picked the prettiest." She looked at him, noticing he was bare-chested. "Gonna wear a shirt today, Con?"
Duke's face felt hot. He glanced at Vincent. He wore a smile that threatened to split his face open.
Jack looked at him with a raised brow and a slight grin. "Jane, give the man back his photo. I get the feeling he wasn't expecting to share it with anyone."
"Of course, Conrad. I didn't even think…" Mamma handed the picture over to Duke. He took it carefully and retreated back down the stairs to stow it in his drawer, embarrassed. He sat down on his bed again, rubbing his aching head and feeling stupid.
Dammit, I'm not a kid anymore. I'm too old to be mooning over a girl like some teenager.
"Conrad." Mamma stood in his doorway. Duke looked over at her. She came and sat next to him, rubbing his shoulder. "Conrad, don't feel embarrassed. There's nothing wrong with loving someone. No one's making fun of you."
"I didn't say I…I didn't say that." Duke couldn't look at her.
"You don't have to, Conrad. Anyone can see." She slid her hand down his back, and he felt her fingers stop over several scars. She leaned back, and took him in, perhaps for the first time seeing the collection of healed wounds, burns and injuries he had taken. Mamma looked over his chest and torso. "Oh, son. Look what they do to you. Look what they've done to my little boy." He saw tears gather in her eyes.
"Mamma, it's OK. This is normal. I don't mind. It only hurts for a little while. It's part of the job. It's combat." He took her hands in his. "We all have scars." It did him no good to tell her he wasn't a little boy anymore. He knew that's how she would always see him.
"We all have scars, Conrad, and you have them inside and out." She put a hand on his cheek. He hadn't shaved yet. "Can I see your picture again?"
Duke sighed, and pulled the photo back out of his drawer. He glanced over it, feeling a slight warmth spread through his chest, and then handed it over to her. She regarded it carefully.
"She looks younger."
"A few years, I guess. Maybe five." Duke had never considered that a problem. Despite the scars and battle, he didn't really look as old as he was, and he was fitter than he'd ever been. "I can keep up with her."
Mamma laughed. "Of that, I'm certain." She looked once more at Scarlett. "She has quite a twinkle in her eye. 'Vivacious' your grandmother would say."
"Spirited." Duke mumbled.
"Yes. I can see that. She follows your orders?"
"Yeah. Sometimes more creatively than I'd want, but, yeah. She's a good soldier. She's there because she knows what she's doing."
"I suspect that's a big part of what attracted you to her. You never could stand incompetent people, Conrad." Mamma wrapped an arm around his waist and gave him a squeeze.
"Yeah. It is. Never thought of it that way, but, yeah."
"You're going to tell her, aren't you?" Mamma smiled at him. "I can hear it in your voice. You've made up your mind?"
Duke sighed, fell back on his bed again, arms over his eyes. "Yes." He whispered. "Yes, I've made up my mind." He let his arms fall to the quilt behind his head. "Yes, I'll tell her."
Mamma's smile widened, and she leaned down to kiss him. "Of course you are. My son knows how to do what's right." She stood. "I have to get everyone to school. Including myself. The last day is always fun. All the grades are done and the pressure is off, even for me. Then tonight your brother and sister are off to the formal. Maybe we can talk more once they're gone."
Duke gave up completely. No sense keeping up the pretense. "Sure, Mamma. Have a good day in class."
"Get more sleep if you want, dear. It will be quiet when we're gone, and you got home very late last night."
"Thought I'd go visit Grampy and Grammy today." He would have felt silly using the names in front of his troops, but he'd never called them anything else. The Joes weren't here, anyhow.
"They'd love that. Grammy hasn't been too well lately. I know your grandfather needs help in the yard. The old oak died and had to be cut down. He wants the stump out. Insists he can do it himself." She walked to the door and turned back. "I was thinking of having them over for dinner your last night home. Would you like that?"
"Sure, that'd be great." Duke pushed himself up on his elbows.
"Jeff and Sandy, too, if you want. We'll have a barbecue, invite everyone we can think of. How about that?"
"Sounds good." He smiled at her.
"See you this afternoon." She gave him a final wave and pulled his door shut after her.
Duke lay back on his bed, drowsing. He let his mind wander.
He was back on base, letting himself into his quarters, his kitbag over his shoulder and his duffle slung on the other side. It was evening, and he was hungry. Duke dropped his bags on the floor, slipped out of his Class A jacket and went to see what was still edible in his refrigerator. He'd cleaned it out before he left, hating the idea of coming back to a mess of moldering food. There was a solitary beer and a hunk of cheese. He grabbed the beer and searched through his cabinets, reaching up with one hand to loosen his tie. Duke grabbed a can of turkey soup. He put it on the counter and pulled his can opener out of the drawer, pawing around to also get the Church key. In no time he had both can and bottle open. He dumped the soup in a bowl, added a little water and shoved the whole thing in the microwave. "From Mamma's cooking to Campbell's. Urm."
Duke stood in front of it, sipping his beer and watching the dial count down to supper. There was a knock at his door. He opened it, beer in hand, and she was there, smiling up at him.
"Breaker said you were on base. Thought I'd drop by to welcome you back."
His heart skipped a beat at her voice. She was happy to see him. "Thanks, Scarlett."
"Did you have a good trip? Did you get to relax?"
"Sure. It was nice." He felt silly keeping her at the door. "Ahhh, come in?"
Her eyes widened. Technically, he shouldn't have even offered. Scarlett looked up and down the passageway. Then shrugged. "Sure. Why not?"
Duke stepped back and she walked past. He shut the door. "I'd offer you a beer, but, well, this is the only one. I can get you water. I think I even have a bottle of wine somewhere." Duke kept a red or two around for when he had the energy to make Omi's red sauce.
Scarlett stood, glancing around his quarters. "It's just like I've always imagined." She smiled back at him. "You keep a clean home, Duke."
He laughed. "I haven't been here in three weeks. Pretty dusty." He waved at the couch. "Go ahead and sit, Scarlett." The microwave pinged.
"Oh! Did I interrupt your dinner? I can leave." She made for the door.
"No!" He was a little louder than he wanted to be. She looked surprised. "No, I mean, don't go. Stay. It's just some soup. As long as you don't mind me eating in front of you. The last thing I had was some peanuts a few hours ago. Would you like some of that wine?"
"Sure, I guess. That would be nice." She sat, and Duke put down his beer and went to the kitchen to retrieve his supper and find the wine. The soup was blazing, so he grabbed a few ice cubes and tossed them in, letting them melt while he uncorked the bottle. He poured her a glass and took both it and his bowl back to the living room. When he came back, she had changed out of her uniform and into blue jeans and a tight fitting, low cut top. He mentally approved. She kicked her shoes off as he sat next to her. He handed her the wine and tasted a spoonful of soup.
"So, tell me what happened while I was away? What kind of trouble did everyone get up to?"
Her hand reached over and gently took his soup spoon. Duke watched, confused, as she put it in his bowl and then took the whole thing from him, setting it on the table next to his beer. He looked along her arm and up to her face. Her eyelids were lowered seductively and her smile gentle. She slid closer to him and started undoing his tie. "Why don't we forget about 'everyone', and see what trouble we can get into right now?" She slowly pulled his tie off, her fingers returning to unbutton his shirt.
"Ahhhhhh, OK?" Duke reached for her, cautiously sliding his fingers into her hair, which had somehow escaped from the ponytail. "Scarlett, I wanted to tell you…"
She put her finger on his lips, shushing him. "Shhhhhhhh. Kiss me…"
Grampy tapped him on the shoulder. "You wearing a rubber, boy?"
Behind him, Grammy waved and grinned. "Touchdown! Good boy!"
Duke snapped awake.
Ok, that ended pretty weird.
He rubbed his eyes and glanced at the clock. It was already nine. Duke's growling stomach reminded him he hadn't eaten breakfast. He pulled himself up and stripped off to jump into the shower. He stood under the how water, thinking as he soaped himself up.
It's not like as soon as I tell her she'll jump in the sack with me. She's not that kind of girl.
Duke looked down at himself. "You hear me? Not that kind of girl."
Duke walked up the steps and knocked on the front door. It took awhile, but eventually he heard slow footsteps and the door was opened. Grampy's eyes lit up and he turned to call out with happy surprise. "Iris! The boy's here! He's come to see us!" He opened his arms and Duke gathered him up for a gentle hug. He felt bonier than Duke remembered.
"Hey, Grampy, how's it going?"
"Wonderful! I was just in the yard watering the peach and the apricot trees. Seems to be a wasp's nest in one o' them. Yer grandmother's puttin' up the peaches." He turned to shout back to the kitchen again. "Did ya hear me, Iris? He's come to visit!"
"Shouldn't he be in school?" Peering into the dark house, Duke saw his grandmother's bent figure silhouetted in the arch to the kitchen. She was wiping her hands on a dishtowel.
"Not the youngun, Iris. The big boy!" Grampy stepped back to take all of Duke in. "Yer getting' bigger, boy." His wrinkled hand made a fist and socked Duke in the stomach. "Solid at that."
"Conrad? Bring him on back to the kitchen, Fred. I wondered when he would remember to drop by and visit." Grammy disappeared back into the kitchen.
Grampy turned and led Duke through the living room. It had changed little since Duke was six. All the old furniture was the same. There was a television now, a black and white set from the early seventies. The plants even looked the same. There were doilies on the tables and over the backs of the armchairs and the couch. There was very little clutter, but it was a dustier than normal. Duke was surprised. His grandmother rarely let a mote of dust sit for more than five seconds.
Mamma did say she wasn't feeling well. She's 73 now. That's not too old.
Duke could smell the preserves long before he got to the kitchen. Grammy stood over a large pot on the stove, stirring with a long spoon. Her canning pot was also on the stove, bubbling away. Duke looked in to see a full rack of jars processing inside. All around them were jars of sliced peaches. On the counters, on shelves, over the table and even in a corner on the floor. He saw a few pies in each windowsill. So much for being too ill to do anything.
Duke came up behind her gave her a bear hug and kissed her cheek. She reached up and patted his cheek. "You're busy, Grammy."
"The peach harvest hit like an avalanche, Doodlebug. Your grandfather insists on keeping so many trees. It was apricots last month. Your mother came by with the girls to help on that one." She gave the preserves another stir and lifted some in the wooden spoon. "Here, have a taste."
Duke grabbed a clean spoon from a drawer and dipped up a taste of hot preserves. He blew a few times and then put it in his mouth. It tasted of summers past. He went back for a second spoonful, making Grammy laugh. "Boy always did like his preserves. Never could wait for it to set, could you? Go to the breadbox, Conrad, and get yourself a hunk of bread. I'll give you a snack."
Duke opened the breadbox to find a new loaf inside. "You're still baking your own bread, Grammy?"
"Only twice a week, now. Here, get a nice thick slice."
Duke grabbed the breadknife and hacked off three thick slices of fresh wheat bread. He found a small plate for each and brought them back over to the pot. Grammy grabbed her butter crock and slathered a thick layer on both. Then she dipped her spoon and came up with another pool of molten pear preserves, ladling it over one slice. She repeated to move for the second then the third. The butter melted with the hot peach syrup and soaked into the bread.
Duke took a slice to his grandfather and then stood as they all three took a large bite of their bread. Duke was in heaven. He sighed and chewed slowly.
"Iris, if that boy was any happier, his eyes would roll back into his head." Grampy chuckled and took another large bite. "Don't feed you anything like that on yer base, do they, boy?"
"Nossir." Duke went back for more.
"Darn straight. Never did find a cook to match up to my Iris. Nothing like a good woman to keep your stomach full and your bed warm." Grampy patted her bottom lovingly.
"Frederick Bower! You watch yourself in front of the boy." She smiled, despite herself.
A sudden burst of airy barking startled Duke. "Is that Buster?" He walked to the screen door and saw the grey-muzzled blue tick hound stood. His tail slowly wagged and he barked a few more times.
"Ayeah. He's still kicking. Deaf as a post, though. He must've just smelt you."
Duke opened the door, and Buster stiffly walked in and happily circled him, tail swishing. He threw his head back and began to bay joyfully. Grammy swatted at him lightly with her dishtowel. "Hush, dog."
"What is he now, twelve? Thirteen?" Duke knelt down to rub Buster's long floppy ears.
"Fourteen if he's a day. He treed a coon in my plum just last week." Grampy smiled. "He's still got it."
Duke chuckled as Buster washed his face with his tongue, gently pushing the dog away. He went to the sink to wash off the drool. Grampy had gotten Buster as a pup when Duke was in his early 20's. Jennifer had been two, Vince three. The Hell those kids had put the dog through, and he loved every minute. Now he was old and smelled slightly funny. "Buster, sit up." Duke grinned as the dog sat on his haunches. Duke stuck out his finger. "Bang!" Buster flopped over on his side, paws over his eyes. Duke laughed. "Good dog."
Grammy yelped. Duke looked up in alarm to see her standing over her canning pot, holding her hand. He jumped up and rushed over. He rushed to her side. "Grammy? You OK?"
"Yes, Conrad, I just grabbed ahold of the rack with a wet rag like a fool. Now the thing's half in and half out." She nodded over to the rack of processed jars. "Old idiot!"
Duke examined her hand. It wasn't blistered, but there was as angry red stripe across her palm. He fetched ice from the freezer and wrapped it in a dishtowel. "You put this on it, Grammy, hold it there." He grabbed two oven mitts from their hook by the oven and lifted the rack out and into the large sink. Grampy had come over and was comforting his wife.
"Iris, anyone could have done the same. Why don't you go sit on the porch and rest a bit? It's a fine day. I'll bring you some lemonade from the icebox.."
"Oh, Fred. The preserves…"
Grampy switched off the gas. "They need to sit and set up for a bit, anyhow. You go take Buster on t' back porch. Go on now." He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and led her to the door, opening the screen so he could guide her out into the summer sun.
Duke opened the refrigerator to get the pitcher Grammy always kept full of lemonade. Inside, he found a sliced peaches in a bowl, several loaves of zucchini bread, a white cake topped with strawberries and several jars of chutney. The crisper and vegetable drawers were crammed full.
How will two people ever eat all of this?
Duke retrieved the pitcher, filled a tall glass with ice and then added the lemonade. He took the glass out to the back porch. "Here you are, Grammy."
"Ah, you beat me to it, boy. Good job." Grampy tapped the tip of his nose with his finger. "While yer here, you can lend me a hand with this old stump." He pointed out into the yard.
Duke looked. The old oak was certainly gone, but it's stump remained stubborn. Grampy had succeeded in hacking at it, and digging around it. He'd tied rope around it, but still it remained. Duke turned to look at his boney grandfather, wondering who was more obstinate: the stump or the old man. Grampy had been a muscular man when Duke was a boy, and remained strong up through his sixties. Now, however, he seemed to be shrinking.
"Sure, Grampy, I can give whatever help you need."
"'Twon't take much more. I've got her coming. Just need some better leverage, boy." Grampy nodded, thumping his chest. "Strip off then. I'm thinking it will take some good brute muscle from both of us. You still a brute, boy?"
"Yessir."
"Good boy." Grampy turned to Grammy, who was sitting on a wicker chair, her hand on Buster's head. "Get ready, woman, yer' about to watch two men workin' hard."
"Land! Two handsome men, at that." She laughed cheerfully, fanning herself. "What the girls in this neighborhood would say if only they knew."
"We'd have to fight 'em off." He snorted and walked down into the yard and across to the steps. Duke pulled off his shirt and smiled at his grandmother.
"I'll get it out for him, Grammy."
"You do that, Doodlebug. I'm here watchin'." She sipped her lemonade and then took his shirt, folding it for him.
Duke saw the problem as soon as he looked into the trench his grandfather had dug around the stump. A few thick roots still held it firm. Grampy didn't have a chainsaw, and Duke was ready for a good workout. He, slipped on the work gloves Grampy handed him, wielded a shovel and started to widen the trench so he could get a better angle on the first root. Grampy saw what he was doing and grabbed a spade to help. Together, they exposed more of the root, shovelful by shovelful.
"Nearly lost you, boy." Grampy focused on the ground beneath him.
"Not as close as you'd think."
"Don't give me that shit. I saw the news. I know what a coma is. Yer lucky the fall didn't kill you."
"Yessir." Duke set down his shovel and re-assessed the situation. A maybe a half foot more on either side. He dug in again. "I'm fine, Grampy."
"Sure. I can see that. Yer mother wasn't. Yer grandmother weren't neither. Yer step pop wasn't lookin' too sure, himself, nor yer brother and sister. Baby Drew didn't understand." Grampy stopped shoveling. "Look at me, boy."
Duke's blue eyes met those of his grandfather. His hair had gone from blond to white long ago. His face was folded with experience, tanned from years of working outside. "I don't expect to outlive my own grandchildren. 'Specially not my first grandson, you hear me?"
"Yessir."
"You put in yer time, boy. Done more than yer share." His eyes ran over the scars across Duke's torso, the same way Mamma's had. "You want to quit…ain't no shame in a man retiring after giving his all to his country so many times."
Duke finished clearing the dirt around the first thick root to his satisfaction. He hefted an axe. "I'm not a quitter, Grampy." He began to swing at the root, throwing chips into the air as he hacked through the hard wood.
Grampy laughed heartily. "You sure ain't. Yer a mean cuss. A nasty brute. Just like me. They'll have to peel you off dead, boy, and even then you'll be digging in tooth and nail." He grabbed the hatchet and both men alternated chops.
It took a good few hours, but they managed to expose and chop through all the thick taproots. Both men were drenched ad gritty. Duke re-tied the rope around the stump. He walked around it twice, then found a likely spot and gave it a few kicks. On the last one, he felt it shift. "Grampy, grab the rope and give it a good, solid tug. Maybe see if you can get around that peach tree there."
Grampy saw what he was up to, and slung the rope around the peach, then pulled with steady pressure. Duke kicked the stump a few more times with the bottom of his foot. It loosened considerably, and Grampy pulled up the slack. Duke got behind the stump, dug his feet in, and pushed for all he was worth. Grampy pulled, groaning. With a shower of dirt and large rending sound, the stump gave up its grip on the Earth and came loose. Duke grabbed the rope and hauled it all the way out.
Grampy came back over and spat into the hole. "Good work, boy. Thought it was a two man job." He slapped Duke on the shoulder. "We'll leave the roots. I've got a few bags over yonder to fill in th' hole. Don't want yer grandmother or baby sister falling in. Neither one looks where they're going."
Duke nodded, musing to himself that if he had somehow known to bring Wally and a chainsaw, the job would have been easier. Still, he had enjoyed the work. He felt pleasantly tired, and his muscles ached pleasantly. They dumped several bags into the hole, walking over several times to tamp it down. They finished with the soil that Grampy had dug up before and the dirt they had both dug up from around the roots. Both men then cleaned and oiled the tools and stowed everything away in the barn.
Duke looked back over the yard and to the small pastures, letting a light breeze cool him off. The cows were long gone, even Daisy the milk cow had been moved to Max's-Grampy had long ago given up morning milking for the convenience of the grocery store. A few chickens and an old rooster still wandered around the henhouse. Bo and Gypsy had died a few years back, both well into their thirties. Both of Duke's grandparents decided they didn't ride enough to warrant getting more horses.
Grammy came up and handed him a glass of lemonade. "Nothing like watching two handsome strong men do a lick of hard work." Duke sipped slowly. "Come in and wash yourself off, Conrad. I've cleared the sink for you."
Duke followed her up the porch steps and into the kitchen. Grampy was sluicing himself off in the sink. The old man swept the water over his head and shoulders several times, scrubbing at the dirt and wood chips that had caught in his fluffy hair. Duke was happy to see he had a scalpful. Both his maternal and paternal grandfathers had full heads of hair. Grampy's fluffy white crop and Opa's silver mane hung in there.
Opi, on the other hand, has his own little tonsure. But Jack seems OK. Vince better pray.
Grampy finished at the sink, and Duke stepped up to wash as much dirt from himself as possible. He stuck his head under the tap and scrubbed. When he was done, he groped around till Grammy handed him a towel. When he was dry, she handed him his shirt.
"Better put this on before the post lady comes, or I'll never get her gone."
Duke pulled his shirt over his head and tucked it back into his jeans. He'd need a shower before dinner, but he was OK till then. He could see that his grandmother had started to ladle the preserves into clean jars. "You want help, Grammy?"
"Oh, don't bother, I'm sure you're tired. Why don't you sit and relax with Grampy?" The old man had wandered into the front room to find his newspaper and a chair. Duke knew he's be snoring in a matter of minutes.
"It's no bother, Grammy. I don't mind at all. As long as I'm not underfoot."
Grammy came over and stroked his cheek lovingly. "Doodlebug, you're never underfoot. Come and help me with the canning funnel, then, and tell me some of your adventures. I want to hear the most exciting things you've seen."
"Did I write you about Romania? You won't believe what happened in Romania, Grammy." He held the grabbed the canning funnel and moved it from jar to jar while Grammy ladeled in warm preserves.
"No, Doodlebug, you tell me all about it."
Duke spent the rest of the morning and some of the afternoon helping her jar, process and put up the preserves. After he was finished with Romania, he told her about Egypt. Then he told her about Ace's tests to go into space, making her laugh at the part about the re-entry simulator.
She sent him home with a warm kiss, a new sweater, several jars of peaches and preserves, three jars of chutney, a peach pie, a strawberry pie, and apricot pie, two loaves of zucchini bread and a dozen fresh eggs.