Robyn Carr - Bring Me Home For Christmas

“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 edge. Every few minutes one of the guys would blow on a duck call, but other than that the only sound was the occasional rustle of leaves in the wind.

Then a flock of ducks burst from the narrow end of the lake and took flight. Shotguns blasted as all the hunters fired, but the flock escaped unscathed. Nothing dropped from the sky. Nothing.

Rich and Dirk brought the boat in and dragged it up on the bank, ready to take a little break while any fowl that remained nearby regrouped and recovered from the shock of gunfire.

“I think I’m done in,” Denny said. He looked at his watch—it was barely after noon. “How about you guys?”

“I got a couple of hours in me,” Rich said.

“I’m good. You gonna wimp out?” Troy asked.

“Might just,” he said. “I’m going to help out in the bar tonight. I could use a shower before that. Looks like Becca’s had about enough. Tell you what, I’ll leave the thermoses and food in your truck, Dirk, and take Rich’s truck back to town. I can give Becca a lift. When you boys are done, bring in the boat and the decoys, will you? And I’ll see you at Jack’s for dinner. How’s that?”

Rich, Dirk and Troy looked back and forth between each other. Finally, Troy said, “Sure, Den. Okay.”

“We’ll do it again tomorrow. Maybe Becca will take a pass.”

“Denny, Becca’s no trouble,” Troy said. “She’s not asking to leave. She seems to be holding up fine. I bet she’d sit in the truck till dark, if that’s how long we stay out.”

“Yeah, probably,” Denny admitted. “But there’s no reason for her to do that, since I need to get back to town, shower and help Jack round up a good meal for you diehards. So I’ll see you at Jack’s.”

“Sure,” Troy said as the other two nodded.

Whew, that was close, Denny thought. Before anyone could decide to tag along, he headed for Rich’s truck. He opened the back door and began to gather up thermoses and the food. Becca looked at him curiously. “I’m going to put this stuff in Dirk’s truck. They want to hunt awhile longer. I’ll take you back to town.”

“You don’t have to do that,” she said. “I’m fine.”

“Well, you’re not hunting, so I’ll take you back.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re just sitting in the truck.”

“So? Am I bothering you? I can sit in Dirk’s truck if you want to go.”

“Becca,” he said in exasperation, “let’s just go back to town.”

“I don’t need to go back to town,” she said. “But if you need company so you can go back to town, by all means. Let’s go.”

He frowned at her but held his tongue. Instead, he moved the coffee and sandwiches to Dirk’s truck. When he was walking back, he noticed his friends standing on the bank of the lake, just watching him. He smiled at them and waved, then got in the truck and got the hell out of there before he had company.

They drove for about five minutes of stony silence before Becca said, “Well, that was a fast getaway, Denny. What’s eating you?”

“Nothing’s eating me, Rebecca!” he snapped. “I thought you were done hunting and so we’ll leave!”

She just laughed softly and for some reason that lit a fire in him.

“Is something funny?” he asked. “I thought you said you had a serious guy in your life. It makes me wonder what he’d make of the way you cozied up to Troy.” He glanced at her.

“You’ve completely lost your mind,” she said.

“Wouldn’t you say you’re a little overly friendly?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“If I were the guy, it would look that way to me,” he said, totally amazed by how childish he sounded, even to himself.

“If you were the guy, you’d be studying for finals at UCLA and would’ve said, ‘Have a good time and be careful.’”

“Must be a freaking god,” Denny muttered.

“Jeez, what is up your butt?” she asked.

“I just thought a stand-up guy would get you out of what could be a bad situation. If you’re practically engaged, you probably shouldn’t be messing around with Troy.”

She shook her head. “I wasn’t. Unless you call having a cup of coffee and talking messing around. If so, I mess around almost daily.” She smiled indulgently. “I’m very loose that way.”

“Damn it, Becca, don’t you get what I’m saying?”

“No, Dennis, I’m completely lost. I don’t know what your deal is. You almost act like you’re jealous or something…”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he said. “Why would I be jealous?”

“I can’t imagine,” she said.

“I guess I just don’t get it, why you’d go hunting with a bunch of guys if you have a serious boyfriend. It makes no sense. Maybe I can do the guy a favor by a little intervention…”

“Intervention?” she asked, frowning.

“Well, you get a little flirty. And that’s not smart.”

She inhaled sharply, not sure if she was more offended by being called flirty or not smart. Her mouth formed a thin line, her nostrils flared, her eyes glittered and she said, “Stop the truck.”

He looked over at her. “What?”