Bring Me Home for Christmas

shrugged. “I love the Marine Corps.”
    “And if you get called again?”
    “I’ll go again,” he said easily.
    “And Dirk? Did I hear he worked construction…?”
    “Heavy equipment operator—a crane. Just like his dad and his brother.”
    “No interest in college for him?”
    Troy laughed. “I don’t think so, no. It takes about three teachers’ salaries to make one crane operator’s.”
    “Now, see, that’s just wrong. What’s more important—the future of your children or the construction of a building?”
    “You’re not looking at it the way they do,” he said. “It’s not the building that’s valued above the future of the children, it’s the guys in the hard hats under the crane who count on a really good operator. Their lives depend on it. They would be the fathers.”
    “Teachers are underpaid,” she pointed out to him.
    “As are cops, firefighters, librarians and just about everyone who is a public servant. I don’t know about you, but most of us don’t teach because it’ll make us rich.”
    “You do it for love?”
    “I guess. And because I’m having fun!” Then he grinned handsomely. “Those kids just crack me up.”
    “Me, too,” she admitted. “Mine are seven—what a hoot. I hear about teacher burnout all the time, but I’m still on the honeymoon. I look forward to every day. Well…I used to.”
    “Used to?” he asked.
    “My school closed. I’m currently unemployed. When I get home, I’ll see if I can sub while I’m sending around applications. It’s not a great time to be job hunting. Not only is it a holiday season, but education funds have been cut, too.”
    “Bummer,” he said. “I don’t know why I’ve been lucky enough to hang on to my job while everyone else seems to be getting laid off or cut back on hours. But as Big Richie tells it, you’ll probably just get married.”
    “Wow. That’s pretty sexist. I hope I also get married.”
    “I stand corrected. Who’s the lucky guy?” he asked.
    “Good question. I’ve been seeing someone for the past year, but we’re not engaged.”
    “Which allows you to go duck hunting with your ex?” he asked.
    “Which allows me to go hunting with my brother,” she emphasized.
    “And Denny,” he said, taking another bite of his sandwich. “You must have a very understanding boyfriend.”
    “Well, he is, as a matter of fact. Denny and Rich have been friends for years—before and after we dated. It really doesn’t have anything to do with me. And what about you? Girlfriend?”
    “Sort of,” he said with a shrug.
    “Sort of?” she pushed. “Either you do or don’t have a girlfriend.”
    “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Troy said before he had time to fully chew and swallow. He finished that task. “I don’t have a steady girl at the moment. I date here and there. I’m talking dinner, movie, clubs sometimes, group things. Lately I’ve been seeing this girl who gives accident-adjustment estimates—I had a fortuitous little fender bender. She’s not quite over the last guy, so we’re taking it very slow. We’ve been out about four times—a couple of softball games with her friends, one Monday-night football at a sports bar with mine and a high school football game to watch her little brother play. I’m not committed and neither is she.”
    “And Dirk?” she asked.
    “Same girl for about six months now. Diedre. An assistant manager of a bowling alley. Personally, I think Dirk might be down for the count. Diedre seems to be around all the time.” He took a sip of his coffee. “Tell me more about the guy, Becca,” he said. “Teacher? Like you?”
    “Law student.”
    He laughed uncomfortably. “Stiff competition,” he said.
    “For who?” Becca asked, wondering if her cover had just been blown.
    “Well, me, for starters.”
    “Are you making a pass?”
    “I’m saying I wouldn’t mind hearing you’re open to the possibility.” He touched her nose. Then he smiled and winked.

Three
    Denny watched Troy and Becca in the front seat of the truck for about a half hour, drinking coffee, laughing, talking. He caught a little casual touching—Troy reached toward her face; she put a hand on his shoulder—stealing glances over his shoulder while he crouched in the blind. Dirk and Rich were in the boat, right in the midst of some shoreline reeds.
    Finally Troy exited the truck, grabbed the shotgun that leaned against it and went back to his cozy little nest in the bushes at the water’s