My Kind of Christmas

“Not usually,” he said. “I try to talk to her for a few minutes every day. Can I get you a beer? I saw you have a beer at Jack’s so I bought a six-pack. Sam Adams okay?”

She laughed softly. “You bought it just for tonight? You might be the only guy I know who doesn’t stock beer. Sam Adams is great, thanks.”

“Chili’s ready and keeping warm, but take off your jacket and relax by the fire for a while first.”

“Wow—this place is awesome,” she said, looking around the great room. “No wonder you wanted to take a little R and R here.”

He fetched a couple of beers and joined her on the couch. “My brother’s wife practically rebuilt the place out of a shack a couple of years ago.” He handed her a beer.

“You’re a good friend, you know. It’s too bad your friend, Marie’s husband, doesn’t get a chance to see what an excellent friend you are, calling her every day.”

Oh, he’d be very surprised, Patrick thought. What would Jake think of Patrick nurturing the idea of picking up where he’d left off? But he said, “He’d expect nothing less. And if I’d left a wife and child, he’d do the same. We’ve been tight since the Academy. Almost fifteen years. We haven’t always been stationed together, but it never mattered.” He couldn’t help it, he looked down. “I wish we hadn’t been assigned together a couple of months ago.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t your fault.”

“What if it was?” he shot back. He wiped a hand over his face. “Okay, we shouldn’t go there. The investigation showed it was hostile, but I was responsible for him. If I’m still a little scarred, it’s probably reasonable. Quick, use your young, nubile, med student mind to change the subject to safer territory.”

She grinned suddenly. “You find my mind nubile?”

Right, he thought, like every other part of you. Then he remembered that while she might look quite young, she was brilliant. She’d catch everything.

“All right,” she said. “Tell me about what you were like growing up and how it was with four older brothers, all very close in age.”

“On one condition,” he said. “You have to promise not to ask any of them the same question.”

“And why is that?”

“Because they will tell stories.”

“I’m not sure I can promise that,” she said with a laugh. “Come on.”

“Well, being the youngest, they protected me all my life, but the price was very high. They’d always be there for me, but they’d never let me forget a single slip or embarrassing moment. I’m thirty-three and I’m still hearing about the night I got caught making out at my girlfriend’s house. By her mom and dad.”

She looked a little nonplussed. “That’s not exactly original. Everyone’s been caught kissing.”

“Her sweater was in my hand and her bra was draped over the lampshade. They came home early....”

She laughed happily. “More,” she demanded.

“I peed on the side of a highway patrolman’s car.”

“Awww, well, little boys sometimes have lapses in judgment like that.”

“I was twenty-five. And had been out with my brothers. I blame them.”

“It sounds like they taught you everything you know. I was wondering about when you were much younger.”

“It’s not good stuff. I was the last one to give up a binky, the slowest to potty train, was lost several times—once requiring police intervention—and my mother thought I’d be taking my blanket with me to football camp. It suggests I liked being the baby. I didn’t pay attention in school until my football and basketball careers were on the line, which started in junior high. But I was always very nice.”

“What do you mean by that? Nice?”

“As my mother said, I knew where to butter my bread. Luke said I was a little con artist, Colin called me the family phony, Sean said I was an ass kisser, but Aiden always liked me and found me sincere. Aiden was the only one who was wrong. I was definitely a kiss ass.”

This made her laugh and, since he liked the sound, he went on. “By the time I was ten, Luke had enlisted. When I was twelve, Colin went in, both of them Army warrant officers who flew helicopters. When I was fourteen Sean had an Air Force Academy slot with a pipeline to a flying job—you can only get jets if you go to an Academy these days, you can’t enlist and sign up for flight school. Then Aiden headed for college on a Navy scholarship—he’s a doctor. It was down to me. In my mind, the only choice left was deciding which branch of the military I’d join. I got an appointment to the Naval Academy. I went to the same senator Sean had gotten his recommendation from—you can’t get into an Academy without serious political juice.”

She sat back on his sofa, shock on her face. She took a drink of her Sam Adams and then continued to stare.

“What?” he asked.

“How’d you do in the Academy?” She wanted to know.

“I did fine.”

“How fine?”

“Well. I did well. I graduated second in the class. Got a couple of awards.”

“And flight school?”

He narrowed his eyes. First in his class. Every class. “Well,” he said.

“You little pisser, teasing me about my nubile brain. You were an overachiever.”

“Who spent about four years in diapers…”

“With a binky in your mouth. There isn’t a single prescription for brainiacs, except it sounds like growing up with four older brothers might have put you in want of a brotherhood and the Academy. Flight school and a military career would fit right into your pattern. And apparently you were a lot more social than I was.”

“Do you know everything?”

“I read.”

“I read, too. But not about stuff like that.”

“I know. You’re reading weapons systems, math, aerospace, combat strategy, et cetera. I’m a science major who loves psychology. My degrees are in biology and chemistry with a minor in psych. I’m kind of drawn to the study of genetics, statistics, environmental science, DNA studies, that sort of thing.” She shrugged and said, “That’s how I relax. Reading that stuff.”

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