And Then She Was Gone(40)
The barista shifted uncomfortably; her eyes moved back and forth between them. She gave them a strained, please-leave-me-out-of-this smile.
Chandler huffed. “Fine.”
Jack pulled out his wallet. “I’m still paying.”
Chandler ordered a coffee and a breakfast sandwich and Jack got a coffee and a biscuit. When they got their drinks and food, they looked around.
“Counter or table?” Chandler asked.
“Table in the far corner,” Jack said. “I want to keep an eye on the door.”
“That’s smart. Where did you learn that neat trick?”
“Clint Eastwood taught it to me.” Jack sat down and did his best High Plains Drifter impersonation. “You don’t put your back to the door; you put your eyes on it.”
They took their seats, and Jack started to take a bite of his biscuit. But Chandler rapped Jack’s knuckles with the handle of a fork.
“Ow.” Jack shook his hand. “What was that for?”
“You didn’t pray.” Chandler bowed his head. “Dear Lord, please watch over our families while we’re serving. Protect them here. Thank you for this food. In Jesus’s name, amen.”
“It’s a biscuit,” Jack said. “You don’t have to pray for a snack.”
“Who says you don’t?” Chandler unwrapped his sandwich.
“You’re not going to do that at every meal when we go overseas though, right?” Jack asked.
“I most certainly am.”
“Why? You’re not going to be a chaplain.”
“I’m just saying thank you. It’s polite.”
As they ate, Jack kept an eye on the door. They were quiet while Chandler finished up his sandwich, but when he was done, he picked up his fork and nervously tapped the table. “What’re we going to do, Jack?”
“What are we going to do about what?” Jack asked.
Chandler used the fork like a hockey stick and flicked a sugar packet. “When we’re overseas. I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to anyone at Aunt Haddie’s.”
“I didn’t think about that. I guess the Army would get us home.”
“I can’t even think about it. If something happened to them…”
“Hey.” Jack flicked the sugar packet back, and it hit Chandler in the chest. “Have some faith.”
“Yeah. I suppose.” Chandler took the cover off his coffee and frowned. “You know this isn’t going to taste anywhere near as good as a milkshake.”
“Fifty calories versus a bazillion. Simple math.”
“Speaking of math, you’d better watch out how much money you’re spending.”
“I am.”
“You killed yourself at that hardware store every weekend. Don’t go blowing everything you earned.”
“I won’t. I’ve got more than enough to make it to basic and enjoy the summer.”
“Still, saving some is a good idea.” Chandler ripped open three sugar packets and emptied them into his coffee. As he stirred, he kept his eyes on the cup. “You know… when I called your house, your mom kinda hinted at something.”
“Spit it out.”
“Well, she sorta asked me if I’d ask you…” Chandler hesitated. “Can she bake you a birthday cake?”
“No,” Jack snapped immediately. “I hate Garbage Day.”
“Stop calling it that. Come on, she’d really like to make you one.”
“I know. I get it.” Jack lowered his voice. “But no one seems to get that it’s one of the crappy things about my childhood that I feel guilty about. It’s not my birthday. It’s the date the social workers put down on my file. Sorry, but I just can’t stand the whole day. I hate it. I’m not going to celebrate it.”
Chandler held up a hand. “Okay, okay. I understand. I’ll let it go.”
They waited in silence. Customers came and went, but there was still no sign of Nina.
Jack finished his coffee. “Listen, if something were to happen overseas, you know, to one of us—”
“Nothing’s gonna happen. I’ve got your back.” Chandler drained his coffee and grinned. “That was good.”
Jack stared at his big friend and waited.
“What?” Chandler said.
Jack shrugged. “Was it good? Did you get enough to eat?”
“Yeah, that hit the spot. That turkey bacon rocked.”
“That’s good.”
Jack waited again. The pause grew, along with Chandler’s smile.
“You know I paid, right?” Jack said.
Chandler nodded. “Yup. I do.”
Jack waited some more.
Chandler said nothing but continued to smile.