Page 63 of The Bright Side of Brooding
Her lips thinned again and she sighed. “I’m afraid it might be Kent Dennin. The guy who you and Rob chased away that morning a month or so ago? I saw him do it once before at the mail room—he had two of them in his hand right as I walked in and he was exiting. He didn’t say a thing but kind of… bumped into me.”
Twin bolts of alarm and fury shot through me. “Have you reported him?”
“There’s nothing to report. Or, if there is, it just seems so childish. I haven’t so much as seen him looking at me in weeks.” She ran a hand over her face and moved to her couch where she plunked down. “I don’t know what his deal is. But I’m not going to spend a bunch of energy trying to figure out some creeper with a bad attitude. I got more flyers made and hung, and I’ll just have to go check them daily and make sure everything looks good.”
She ran through her other promotional plans—different places she’d announce the drive, including gatherings she’d be visiting. She’d talk to groups like some of the Bible studies and spouses’ events in the next ten days, as well as a possible briefing at the OPFOR.
“I’ll get to see you,” I said dumbly.Obviously, you idiot.
She shifted on the couch, scooting so she sat closer and angled toward me, our knees touching. “Yes. I have actually only seen you in uniform a few times.”
Something about the way she said that told me she looked forward to doing so again. “And I’ll get to see you charm everyone into donating.”
She smiled, and the frazzled air about her relaxed. “I hope.”
I brushed a hand up her back, and she tipped to the side until she rested completely against me. “You seem a little stressed.”
One hand settled on my chest. The warmth of her palm bled through my shirt, and my heart kicked.
“I need this to go well. I need the interview to go well, and I need that job. A lot’s riding on this.”
Theneedsounded so particular. “What happens if you don’t get the job?”
She looked up at me from where she’d nestled in. I had to work not to shut my eyes at the sight. Holding her like this, talking after a long day, felt right.
“I lose my one chance for advancement here.”
“And you wouldn’t move for a position?”
We hadn’t talked much about future plans. Suddenly, the idiocy of not knowing what she had in mind for her future struck me. I’d already mentally jogged down that line of thinking, wondering if our lives could match up. Maybe she hadn’t.
She held my gaze. “I love it here. I don’t want to have to move. This job is one I’ve been waiting on basically since I got here. I knew the nurse supervisor was planning to leave in the not-too-distant future, and I worked my tail off to complete my master’s degree as soon as I could so I’d check that box. I don’t know what I’ll do if it doesn’t work out.”
I squeezed her close, hoping to reassure her without words. I’d never been in a position where advancement was so limited. Until this moment, I’d never had to consider what that might feel like. Of course there were jobs and opportunities that I’d wanted and not gotten, but as an infantryman, the options for me were always fairly wide open.
“It’s going to be great. You’ve been working in this community for years, not just for this one thing. This is just one more effort on behalf of the people here. The hiring committee will see that.”
They had to. No one gave as much as Summer. And while I recognized that may not suit her to this job particularly, I refused to believe that a less than stellar showing of canned food and boots could keep her from achieving this goal.
“Thanks. I hope.”
We sat there, snuggled close, for long enough that the hour dragged at me. I lived an early-to-bed life, especially on weekdays when I woke early to prep PT setups for soldiers at the gym. I’d do the same tomorrow, which meant I needed to leave.
“I hate to say this, but I need to get going.”
We separated and stood.
“Sorry I kept you up late. Thanks for coming over for a bit.”
She looked as tired as I felt. We’d both do better with a good night’s sleep.
“Can I see you tomorrow?”
“Yes, please. Saturday, I’m hosting a girls’ night, and Sunday is the next feast.”
I shook my head. “You’re a busy woman, Summer Applegate.”
“You’re not exactly a lay-about, Nicholas Masters. How many training sessions do you have lined up this weekend?”
