Down and Out in Bugtussle (11 page)

Very few times in my life has Chloe ever made me mad, but her attitude is really starting to piss me off.

“Is this about the date?” I ask. “Because that guy was a real douche bag.”

“No, this is about your job. Right now, it’s my job to tell you what yours is.”

I walk out before I say something I’ll regret and decide that Lilly and I need to have an in-depth discussion about Chloe’s newfound anger sometime in the not-so-distant future.

When I get to the gym, I’m still pissed. I stomp down the side of the basketball court, turn into the hallway where the coaches’ offices are, and run right into Cameron Becker’s gigantic boobs.

“Dammit,” I say, taking a step back. “You need to watch where you’re going.”

“Or maybe you need to watch where you’re going,” she says, scowling down at me.

I think about fist-whipping her fake tits until one pops out onto the gym floor, but then Chloe would fire me for sure and I don’t need that, so instead I say, “I’m supposed to be in the gym, Ms. Becker! I’m not in here on cock-watch.”

“Wouldn’t do you any good if you were,” she retorts, and I resist a powerful urge to slap the crap out of her.

“I’ve been on cock-watch in here,” I tell her. “We all have.” Her smirk turns to a frown, so I add, “But you can just keep thinking you’re special.”

“I can’t help it if I have your job, Ms. Jones,” she hisses. “And let’s not forget that you’re the one who left. I don’t know what’s going
on in your life and I really don’t care, but I love my job and have no intention of leaving.”

“Great,” I say. “Well, good luck with the art fair. It’s a lot of work, but I’m sure you can handle it.”

“What art fair?” she says with a snort. “I’m not doing any art fair. That is so ten years ago.”

“Your phony melons are so ten years ago,” I say as the bell for first period rings.

“What?” she says, and I’m actually glad she didn’t hear me, because that wasn’t my best comeback ever.

“Nothing.”

“Have a good day subbing,” she says, and turns to walk away.

“Bitch!” I say, but she’s already gone. I hear sniggering and turn to see Coach Hatter, Coach Spears, and Coach O’Bryan huddled at the gym lounge door.

“Cat fight! Cat fight!” Hatter says, laughing. He walks over and puts his arm around me. “She doesn’t know what she’s getting herself into messing with you.” He smiles. “Somebody better warn her.”

“I thought y’all were about to roll!” Coach Spears says. “My money was on you, Jones.”

“I was looking forward to breaking that one up,” Coach O’Bryan quips.

“I’d kick her ass all over this gym!” I say, and they start laughing.

“I don’t know if you would or not.” We all turn to see Coach Wills looming in the door of his office. “Cameron can handle herself.”

I look at Hatt, who whispers, “Relapse. I’ll explain later.”

“Jeez, Wills,” Coach O’Bryan says. “Give it up, man. She dumped you.” Okay, so I see that news broke. I feel sorry for Drew Wills because I know how it feels to have people whispering behind your back.

“Shut your mouth, O!” Wills says, walking past us. I glance at Hatter, thankful neither of them mentioned my stud-muffin date. The other coaches go their separate ways, and Hatter hangs back a minute until they’re out of earshot.

“She’s driving him crazy,” he says. “I’ll tell you all about it later.” He looks at the folder in my hand. “Hey, which lunch do you have?” I look down at my schedule.

“I don’t have one because I’m covering P.E. classes all day!”

“Man, that sucks,” he says.

“Tell me about it,” I say, getting pissed at Chloe all over again. How dare she be so mean after practically forcing me to go on two absolutely horrific dates. I look at Hatter, who is shaking his head.

“You want me to bring you some lunch?”

“I brought my own, but thanks,” I tell him.

“Okay, well, I gotta run. Hope your day isn’t too bad.” He stands there looking like he might say something else, but he doesn’t.

“Thanks,” I say. He nods and walks away.

After seven straight hours of rowdy freshmen and boisterous sophomores dropping their cell phones out of their gym shorts, picking them up and texting, and then sticking them back in their sweaty underwear, I go home, beat beyond belief.

“Buster Loo,” I tell my little dog when I get there, “this ain’t the life for me.” I grab a beer from the fridge and sit down at the kitchen table, telling myself not to cry. Buster Loo looks at me, expectantly. “No walk today, boy, I’m sorry. You’ll have to make good use of
your trusty doggy door.” He takes off and returns a minute later with one of his chew toys, and I play fetch with him in the living room. After a while, he gets tired of our game and disappears behind the love seat. I take another beer with me to the bathtub where I run a hot bubble bath. I get in and relax for a while, soaking, drinking, and trying to convince myself that I can go back to school tomorrow and live through another day of substitute hell. I get out of the tub, put on some old pajamas, and look at my phone. I have a text from Lilly.

“Home?” it says.

“Yes,” I send back.

“OK 4me 2come by?”

“Of course,” I send back, wondering if it’s really that hard to type an extra three or four letters or if Lilly just enjoys coded texting that much.

Thirty minutes later, I’m wrapped in a fuzzy blanket on the couch with Buster Loo by my side and his favorite toy, Mr. Wishbone, tucked in between us. Buster Loo starts to growl when Lilly pulls into the drive and when she rings the doorbell a minute later, he rocket launches himself off the sofa, sending Mr. Wishbone flying as he makes haste to the front door. I get up, open the door, and see Lilly standing on my front porch, looking like hell.

“Get in here!” I say. “What’s going on?” A million things run through my mind as I pray that nothing has happened to her brother, her parents, or Dax. She starts squalling as soon as she steps in the house. Buster Loo retrieves Mr. Wishbone and promptly takes the toy over to where Lilly is standing. I tell her to sit down, then put my blanket around her because, even though the weather has taken a turn for the worse, she’s wearing a skimpy short-sleeve
shirt. Buster Loo jumps onto the couch and places Mr. Wishbone on her knee. Then he hops onto her lap, stretches his little chiweenie body out, and places his paws on her shoulder like he’s trying to give her a hug. She pulls him up close and he speed licks the tears off her cheeks.

“Aw, Buster Loo,” she says, “you’re such a sweetie pie.”

I go into the kitchen and put on some coffee. After taking two coffee cups out of the cabinet, I grab a bottle of Irish cream and pour a generous serving into each one. “I’ll be right there!” I call out. Her answer is a few more sniffles.

Lilly is and always has been an emotional basket case who cries at the drop of a hat, so I try to convince myself that everything is fine and she’s just overreacting. Her easy life hasn’t made her tough, but the look on her face has me fearing the worst.

I pour hot coffee into the cups and go sit beside her on the couch. When I hand one to her, she’s shaking so bad that she spills coffee on her pants. I take the cup from her and set it on the coffee table. She starts sobbing again, so I go to the bathroom and bring back a cold wet rag. She puts it over her eyes and takes a deep breath.

“Lilly,” I say when she calms down a bit, “I’m kind of freakin’ out about what’s going on.”

“I’m sorry,” she says between sniffles. “It’s Dax.”

“Oh my God, is he okay? What happened?” Panic washes over me. I set my coffee cup down, too.

“He’s fine. At least he is right now,” she says. She starts digging in the pocket of her jeans and pulls out a crumpled piece of paper. She smoothes it out and hands it to me. At the top, it says
Department of the Army
.

“Read it,” she says, tears streaming.

“‘Individual Ready Reserve’?” I say, looking at her. “What is that?”

“Just read it.”

As I read the letter, addressed to Sergeant Dax Dorsett of the 82nd Airborne Division, my stomach knots up and I start to feel nauseated.

“What does this mean?” I ask, even though I think I already know.

“They called him back,” she says. “He’s going to Afghanistan.”

“What? When? I thought that mess was almost over.”

“Apparently it’s not over for him,” she says, and starts crying again. “He has two weeks to get everything squared away before he leaves for six weeks of training and after that, he leaves for good.” She looks at me. “Two weeks! He has to leave in two weeks.”

“Oh, Lilly,” I say, and then pause because I have no idea what to say. “How can they do that? Hasn’t he been out of the army for over a year?”

“When you enlist, you sign up for four years of active duty and four years of Ready Reserve. They called him back. They can do that. I don’t know why they picked him.” She pauses to catch her breath. “I guess we’re just really lucky.” Lilly picks up her coffee cup and takes a sip. Buster Loo is a nervous wreck. He grabs Mr. Wishbone and runs behind the love seat.

“The letter came yesterday along with his orders,” she says. “I begged him to try to get out of it, but he just kept saying it was his job and he had to go. We got into a fight because I—you know what? I don’t even want to talk about it right now.”

“Oh Lord,” I say. “I cannot believe this. Did you call your brother? What did he say?”

“I called him yesterday and he said that after his twelve years in the army, nothing surprises him anymore. He told me that a soldier gets called out of Ready Reserve when a unit scheduled for deployment has spots that have to be filled and that’s just how it works.”

“Oh.”

“I’m going home with Dax this weekend,” she says, looking miserable. “We’re not in a fight anymore. He wants me to meet his family before he leaves.” She nods toward the letter. “Which is great, under these circumstances, you know? But he asked me to go, so what was I going to say?”

“Nothing you can say but yes.” I look at her. “You haven’t met his family yet?”

“No, and he acts funny about it when I mention meeting them. And every time he goes to see them, he always has some excuse why I shouldn’t go. Either his mother isn’t feeling well or he has to help his dad. It’s always something. He’s met my family. He even met Luke at Christmas.” She takes another sip of coffee. “So finally after all this time, I get to meet his family.”

“So he’s taking you down this weekend?” I say.

“Yep. We’re going on Friday and coming back Sunday, and then he flies out of Memphis the next weekend,” she says. “Sunday after next. Can you believe that?”

“I can’t!” I say. “How can this happen so fast?”

“I don’t know,” she says, and stops. “He explained it, but I don’t even remember what he said. My mind has just kind of shut down on me.” She sighs and wipes her eyes. “You know Luke has been deployed six times, but we expect that, you know, because that’s his job. It’s part of his life. It’s part of our life. It’s his career.” She looks at me. “This was just such a shock to me. So unexpected.”

“I can’t even imagine, Lilly,” I say, hugging her again. “Look, we’ll have a going away party for him here at my house. When did you say y’all will be back from—where does he live again?”

“The Delta. He said we’re coming back here Sunday afternoon.”

“So, we’ll have a party next Saturday night, unless you want to be alone with him.”

“I’m taking a few days off next week to be alone with him. It’s going to use up all of my sick days, but I don’t care and I don’t care what Chloe says, either. And I think he would appreciate a party. You know how he is.”

I think about Dax. Handsome, fun-loving Dax. Love of Lilly’s life Dax. I say a silent prayer for his safety.

“I just can’t believe it,” she says, petting Buster Loo who has just reappeared sans Mr. Wishbone. He hops back into her lap. “I cannot believe this is happening.”

I want to ask how long he’s going to be gone, but I don’t want to set her off again. I know her brother used to be gone for a year with two weeks off, during which he always came home to Bugtussle and stayed with their parents.

“We’ll get through this,” I tell her. “We will. So, you haven’t told Chloe?”

“No, I’m going to call her on my way home,” she says.

“Why don’t you call her from here or when you get home?” I tell her. “You don’t need to be driving and squalling.”

“You’re right. I’ll call her when I get home.”

W
hen I get to the conference room on Tuesday, Chloe isn’t there. I go to her office where I find her sitting at her desk, a bleak look on her face.

“What’s wrong?” I ask nervously.

“I can’t believe Dax has been recalled to active duty,” she says, and I wonder how she always has the right words for everything. I mean, does she Google this stuff or does she just know?

“He’ll be fine,” I say. “He’s been deployed twice before. He’s a soldier. He’ll be fine.” I sound like a babbling fool.

“Lilly isn’t fine,” she says quietly.

“No, but she will be because she has us,” I say, looking at her. “We’ll take care of her.”

“J.J. really hates that he’s leaving,” she says. “He thinks a lot of Dax.”