old way he had learned in the Boy Scouts: throw a couple of spoonfuls of coffee into the cup, pour the hot water in, and to hell with the grinds.
“Got one for me?”
It was Jen. Sure.
He mixed a second cup and she looked at it with disdain.
She went back into the kitchen and opened the fridge, sniffing the plastic jug of milk after opening it, then came back out on the porch, taking a sip.
“Keep your teeth closed and that will filter out the grinds,” John said, finally forcing his first smile of the day.
“Got to find an old-style percolator,” she said. “Always thought that made the best coffee anyhow. Never liked those Mr. Coffee machines.”
It was a bit chilly out and he found it invigorating. The coffee and cigarette were working their magic, bringing him awake.
Unlike the vast majority of men who had made careers in the army, he had never adjusted to early morning rising and hated all those who could do it, especially the cheerful ones. His instinct always was to be a night owl, to go to sleep around two or three, then wake up at nine or ten for his first lecture at eleven.
The college had learned that quickly and never scheduled a class for him prior to that time.
But he did have to admit, mornings were beautiful and he regretted missing them at times. Mary had been a morning person. He thought about her… remembering how sometimes at dawn she’d wake him up, at least for a few minutes to… The memory was too painful and he let it drop.
“That fire is still burning,” Jen said, pointing to Craggy Dome.
He nodded. The flame had spread out, a plume of smoke flattening out, then drifting down towards the Asheville reservoir in the valley below. Looked like a hundred acres or more.
Far in the distance, out on the distant horizon, he saw two more plumes of smoke from fires.
The world was silent, no traffic; down in Black Mountain nothing was moving.
Nothing had changed. “Can I have some?”
It was Elizabeth, hair wet, rubbing it with a towel, a heavy winter bathrobe wrapped around her, shivering.
“Sure, sweetheart,” and he mixed up a third cup, which she drank without complaint.
Jennifer came out on the porch as well, Rabs tucked under her arm. She looked so adorable. When asleep, or half-awake as she was now, there was still that certain look, the eyes of a baby still there.
“You sure there’s no school?”
“Doubt it.”
She yawned, turned about without comment, and went back inside. “You do your blood test?” he asked.
“Yeah, Dad, it’s ok,” and she wandered back to the bedroom to go back to sleep.
“I think I’ll head down to town now, see what’s going on.”
“Can I come?” Elizabeth asked.
“No, I’d like you to stay here.”
“Ahh, come on, Dad. Everyone will be down there; I want to see what’s happening.”
He took her gently by the arm and led her away from the screen door. “I want you here to guard the house.” She gave him a sarcastic smirk. “From what? Terrorists?”
“Don’t joke about it,” he said forcefully, and she fell silent, looking up at him.
“You know how to handle the shotgun. It’s the 20 gauge, so don’t be afraid of it. The safety is off, but I don’t have a round chambered in it. So if need be, pump and then shoot.”
“Dad, you’re freaking me out here.”
“Listen, Liz, I’m not joking around. I think something serious has gone down.”
“What?”
“Look around. There’s no power, nothing.”
“It’ll come back on.”
He didn’t say anything, just staring at her.
“Anyone you know coming up the driveway, ok. But if it’s a stranger, I want you to stand in the doorway, but use the frame to cover yourself. Let them see you have a gun pointed in their direction. Don’t take any bullshit or con lines. I don’t care how pathetic they might look. If they’re looking for a phone, water, help, just tell them to walk on into town and there’ll be people there to help them. Got it?”
“Yeah, sure.”
“Got it?” And this time his voice was sharp. “Yes, Dad.”
“If they try anything, anything at all, you don’t hesitate, Liz. None of this warning-shot crap. You aim straight at their midsection and squeeze. If it’s more than one man, drop the one closest to you, or anyone armed.”
“Dad, you’re scaring me.”
He put his hands on her shoulders and squeezed them tight.
“I taught you and your mom to shoot. And remember what I said about what was most dangerous.”
“A woman with a gun who doesn’t have the guts to use it,” she recited. Mary had always said it was such a sexist line.
“A guy like that drunk last night, he can sense it if you are not really going to shoot. You make it clear you’re not taking,” John hesitated, “not taking any shit and chances are you’ll go through life and never have to pull a trigger.”
“Ok, Dad.”
He forced a smile. “I’m just being paranoid, sweetie. Keep Jennifer close by; if Pat comes up to play, so much the better.”
“What about Ben?”
He hesitated. Jen was inside. “No problem.”
“He really is a sweet guy, Dad, if you’d give him a chance.”
He nodded. “I know that.”
“Why do you dislike him so much, Dad?”
“You know.”
She smiled.
“Like he’s going to get beyond a little making out with me? I think you used to call it past first base.”
He stiffened a bit; it was the first time she was even being slightly direct.
All the “female”-related issues he had left to the care of Grandma Jen, including “the talks,” other than the traditional old-style father routine of glaring at any boy who started to hang around.
John knew he wasn’t much of a father for this new century, maybe a bit old-fashioned, but that was the way he was raised .. . and he had assumed for so many years that such things were Mary’s territory.
“It’s because of Mom in a way, isn’t it?”
“How’s that?”
“You know. We lost Mom, but you lost your wife, your friend and companion. Jennifer and I, we’re filling in for some of the loss, and down deep you hate the thought that we’re growing up and, in doing that, eventually we’re moving away from you as well.”
He didn’t say anything, a bit startled by her insight.
“What makes you think that?”
“Oh, the therapist we went to after Mom died. But it’s the truth, Dad. It’s ok.
“I love you, Daddy; I always will,” she said, going up on tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek. “You’ll always be my number one guy.”
He hugged her, eyes filled with tears. “Thanks, honey.”
They stepped back from each other, both feeling a bit awkward. “I’ll see what I can work up for breakfast,” she said, and went back into the kitchen.
“Your girl is definitely growing up.” It was Jen coming up to him, offering a second cup of coffee.
He sniffled a bit, nodded, then smiled.
“Mary was like that at sixteen. Wise beyond her years. Used to throw Tyler for a loop sometimes.”
John drank the second cup. It was cooling, but that didn’t matter, though two cups and two cigarettes
