Page 11 of Tour Wars
When TJ’s phone buzzed, he glanced at it. His younger sister, Romily, had sent him a text.
Romily: Mom and Al are already planning the big Labor Day BBQ and it’s gonna be painful. Way too many people and too much meat. You’re lucky you get to skip it.
TJ: Not sorry I’m missing it. The Memorial Day BBQ was bad enough. Any chance you can get Al to make you a veggie burger?
Romily: As if. I’ll be stuck eating nothing but potato salad and three-bean casserole.
TJ: Don’t forget pie. If there’s one thing I miss here, it’s Mom’s pies.
As he walked with the others, TJ cast his mind back to the last family cookout he’d attended. Before leaving for Italy, he’d flown home to see his family over the Memorial Day weekend. Though he always enjoyed spending time with his mom and Romily, he hated coming under the scrutiny of his two stepbrothers and his stepdad, Al. When he’d explained what he’d be doing in Pompeii, he’d gotten the usual backlash.
“So, this isn’t a permanent job?” Al asked. “What are you going to do when you get back in December? It’ll be the dead of winter.”
“I can apply for jobs while I’m in Italy,” TJ said. “Either that, or I’ll see if I can find another dig in the Mediterranean.”
“That’s your whole plan?” Al said. “Sounds like a recipe for failure.”
TJ’s mother gave him a sympathetic smile. “I still think you should consider teaching high school. Do you remember Mr. Carruthers? You had him for AP European History. He’s retiring next year. Maybe you could take his place when you get back.”
Like it was that easy? No doubt Mr. Carruthers’ spot would attract dozens of applicants, all of whom had actual teaching degrees. “Thanks, Mom, but we talked about this before. I don’t want to teach high school.”
His stepbrother, Randy, slopped a giant spoonful of potato salad onto his plate. “You should sign up for one of those coding boot camps. The kind where they teach you the basics in a couple of months. Lots of jobs in CS.”
Randy should know. He’d gotten a bachelor’s degree in computer science eight years ago and was now making six figures. Something he mentioned at every family gathering.
“You should come work for me,” Al said. “With your people skills and your knack for networking, I’m sure I can find a place for you. Sports management’s a great field.”
TJ’s other stepbrother, Jake, snickered. “Yeah, but that would mean TJ needs to give a shit about sports.”
“Stop it,” Romily said. She’d always been his staunchest supporter. “He’s going to be working at Pompeii, for fuck’s sake.”
Their mom frowned. “Language, sweetie.”
“Sorry, Mom, but we’re talking about one of the most incredible archaeological sites in the world. After Mt. Vesuvius erupted, Pompeii was covered in ash and pumice stone and frozen in time for centuries.”
TJ flashed his sister an appreciative grin. “Romily’s right. It’s like the entire city was sealed in a time capsule. Only two-thirds of it has been excavated, so there’s lots left to explore.”
Al doused more ketchup on his burger. “I still think it’s a dead end. You finish this, then you’re stuck back where you were last winter. No job, no prospects, no practical skills. You’re twenty-eight, which means you need to stop dicking around. I know you put a lot of effort into getting a PhD, but—let’s face it—you might have been wasting your time.”
Rather than defend himself, TJ smiled and nodded. Better to play along with his stepdad than get into a heated argument. Been there, done that. But TJ knew if hisrealfather had been alive, if Dr. Theodore Mayer, Sr. had been seated at the table, he wouldn’t have discouraged his son. As a Roman history professor at the University of Chicago, he’d imbued his two children—TJ and Romily—with a passion for the ancient world.
During his years of grad school, TJ had often wished he could ask his dad for career advice. Had his dad ever doubted his decision to go into academia? Would he advise TJ to keep trying or to give in and take a job with his stepfather?
A soft voice shocked TJ out of his reverie. “TJ? You okay there?”
“Wha…?” He startled as he realized they’d reached the entrance of the hostel. Emilia, Paulo, and Marie were staring at him.
Marie placed her hand on his shoulder. “We lost you for a few minutes.”
“Sorry. Just daydreaming.”
Paulo smirked. “About having sex in the Trojan horse? I can only imagine.”
Emilia rolled her eyes. “I was kidding about the damn horse. Let’s grab a beer. I need one before I have to deal with the hordes tomorrow.”
Now wasn’t the time to dwell on the past. Or worry about the future. TJ needed to live in the moment and celebrate Friday night with his colleagues. A few beers on the rooftop sounded like the perfect way to decompress.
And not once would he allow himself to envision the Trojan horse scenario.
