14. Grant
Grant
The word ‘irritating’ really does not do justice to how Regan has been behaving these past few days. ‘Exasperating’, perhaps? No… ‘infuriating’—yes that’s the perfect word for it.
That stupid grin he normally wears on what passes for his face seems to have doubled in size of late.
And as for his incessant cheerfulness… it’s driving me nuts.
You’d think he was auditioning for Dick Van Dyke’s role in a remake of Mary Poppins, or something.
One more time he tells me how life is a bed of roses or breaks into his goddam-awful impression of Louis Armstrong singing “What a Wonderful World” and I swear I will punch his lights out.
What’s worse, he doesn’t even know he’s doing it. In fact, he thinks he’s being subtle.
That boy couldn’t be subtle if his life depended upon it. He honestly does not have a clue.
The moment he and Maria got back from their day up in the mountains and he burst into the kitchen where Abe and I were making fried chicken for dinner, both of us knew something was up.
“Hey bros, how’s it hanging?” All smiles and laughter, a sense of nervous energy and yes… a faint blush on both of their faces, and a shared glance at each other followed by a furtive, deliberate look away, as if they had something to hide.
I’d glanced at Abe and he’d stared back at me, his eyes wide, framing the same unspoken question that I had… what the fuck have the two of them been up to?
They were supposed to be hiking round White Tail Lake, then grabbing some lunch before heading back via the local waterfall—it’s so local it doesn’t even have a name.
So… what were they doing for… I had quickly done the mental arithmetic.
They left around eleven in Regan’s F-150—though not until he’d carefully swept all the takeout wrappers and other accumulated rubbish out, and spent a ridiculous length of time cleaning every surface until the damned thing gleamed—and now it’s coming up to six pm. So that’s seven hours, or thereabouts.
What the hell had they been doing all that time?
And then it struck me, just about the same time as it struck Abe, by the look on his face.
Regan got lucky!
Oh.
My.
Actual.
God!
Is there no justice in this world?
I mean… why him?
Why did she choose that self-aggrandizing, ego-centric, juvenile pup?
Why—yet again—does he get all the luck?
Why hadn’t it been me?
I stare at myself in the mirror, and I see gray hairs among the brown. More lines on my forehead than I recall noticing before. A slight sallowness around the cheekbones.
Am I getting old?
I shake my head in disgust.
“Come on, Special Operations Master Sergeant Grant Naylor, pull your fucking self together man!” I bark the order out, and find myself straightening, my stomach tightening, chest up and out. Arms at the ready by my side.
“That’s more like it, Sergeant.” Just those few words, given in the right tone of voice… just that alone, had done wonders.
Sure, I was still as sick as a dog about it. But however much I might want her, I know I don’t own her. Maria has every right to choose Regan over me. And actually, looked at objectively, why wouldn’t she choose Regan over me… over anyone, come to that?
He’s younger and nearer her age than I am.
He’s fit and healthy, with an excellent physique and a chiseled jawline.
And then of course he has that fun-filled, easygoing persona that women seem to fall for in droves.
He’s a natural charmer, and he’s always had the gift of walking into a bar and picking up the best-looking single woman within minutes.
So yeah, why shouldn’t she choose Regan if she wants to?
That doesn’t have to mean she doesn’t like me. And it doesn’t mean I cannot carry on being friends and business partners with him. I’ll just have to… alter my hopes a little. That’s all.
I straighten the collar of my shirt, adjust my hair in the mirror. Stare back at my image.
You’re the leader of this outfit, remember? And you owe them… everything! So, get out there and make it work. Make it even better than it was before. Let it become your mission. You’re here to serve, Sergeant, so get out there and damn-well do your duty!
I turn from the mirror to face the door. I’m ready. I open the door and stride out into the hall, heading purposefully to the office. I’ve no more time for this nonsense. There’s far too much stuff I have to do.
It’s Wednesday—one of Maria’s bookkeeping days—so I’m on dinner duty tonight, and I’m making Tater Tot Hotdish.
Basically, it’s a casserole of ground beef or pork—beef today, because that’s what we have—canned cream mushroom soup, and whatever vegetables happen to be lying around that need eating, topped with tater tots.
That’s all the tater tots used up, and the last tin of soup too. Dutifully, I add both items to the running shopping list we keep in the kitchen by the door. I add ground beef as well, and after a moment or two’s thought and a quick check in the fridge, I put down beer, butter, and fresh bread.
Hmm… better call it through and ask Maria to pick the groceries up on Friday when she’ll be next in town. Too late to call her today, she’ll already have left town. In fact, I think I can hear her car pulling up outside right now.
Sure enough, I hear the front door opening and the musical sound of her voice, somewhat higher pitched than any of us men, calling out a greeting to someone. A moment or two later, and the kitchen door opens and she steps inside, looking around to see who’s in here.
“Hey, Grant.”
“Hey yourself, Maria. Come on in and take the weight off.”
“Alright, I could do with a rest after all that strenuous bookkeeping.” She laughs, and I laugh with her.
“There’s iced tea in the fridge,” I say.
“Oo, perfect. You’re spoiling me. You having one too?”
I indicate a half-full beer bottle on the kitchen table by way of reply, and she nods and lifts down a glass for herself from the cupboard before stepping across to the fridge.
“So,” she says, closing the fridge door and walking around the big kitchen table to take a seat next to me. “How’s your day been?”
“Oh, pretty good. Regan went out in the tow truck to attend to a couple of tourists who’d got stuck on one of the mountain passes.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Apparently, they’d tried to turn the car around when they realized they were headed up the wrong road, but it was too narrow.
They ended up with the trunk backed against a rockface, and the front bumper hanging over a fifty-foot drop, and neither occupant daring to be the one to move first, in case it nudged the car over the edge of the cliff. ”
“You’re kidding! What happened in the end?”
“Well, according to Regan, he reached out real far and managed to attach the tow hook to the front of their vehicle, raised the boom as high as it would go, and just drove off, which had the effect of swiveling the car around pretty-much on the spot until it faced the right way. Then he charged them three hundred and fifty bucks and waved them on their way.”
“Three hundred and fifty dollars? Why on Earth did he charge them that much?”
“Well, like he said, if he hadn’t gotten them out of their mess, they’d still be sitting up there now.
And it was a brand-new Mercedes S-Class.
Flashy as hell. All the extras. Just exactly the sort of stupid choice of vehicle to get yourself stuck up a mountainside in—ridiculously long wheelbase, awful turning circle, terrible ground clearance. ”
“Oh, I see.”
“Plus, he said they weren’t very nice. Apparently, the man took offence when Regan made a joke about his driving skills in front of the guy’s wife. Told Regan he’d better ‘Buck his ideas up if he didn’t want to get in trouble with his boss.’”
“He said that? To Regan?” Maria’s eyes open wide in surprise.
“Yup. Called him ‘my boy’ too, by all accounts.”
“Oh dear. No wonder he got charged three hundred and fifty dollars.”
“Yeah. Said he wouldn’t pay at first.”
“Oh God. What happened?”
“Well, you know Regan, he’s a canny guy when he wants to be.
Lazy fucker, too. Said that this was fine by him, and he had all day.
Told the guy to let him know once he was ready to pay, because he wasn’t going to unhitch the tow boom until after he’d gotten payment in full.
Then he went and took a nap. Locked himself into the cab of the tow truck and positively refused to even talk to them again until he saw a credit card. ”
Maria let out a giggle.
“So, did the man pay?”
“Oh yes, eventually. But not until Regan was good and ready. The way Regan tells the story, he says he turned the radio up, set his alarm, and gave himself a sixty-minute snooze, by the end of which this guy was positively jumping up and down. Threatening lawsuits and jail sentences and heaven knows what else. Anyway, he paid up like a lamb in the end, and that was that.”
“Poor man. Being made a fool of like that, and in front of his wife, too.”
“Oh, I dunno. Reckon he brought it on himself. Matter of fact, I think he got off lightly.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. He could have gotten me instead of Regan. Regan’s a gentleman at heart. I ain’t.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, Regan would never leave a woman stranded on a mountainside, no matter how much of an asshole the guy had been. Me though? I wouldn’t have thought twice about it. If it had been me, I’d have put their Merc right back where I found it, warned them about the coyotes, and left them to it.”