Page 8 of Believe in Me
“Nothing of the sort. Battalion wants to provisionally pin master sergeant on you. You’re on the list and it’s just a matter of your sequence number, which is really low at eight. So, who’s coming in to promote you?” Mike just sat there blinking. “Well? If you don’t have family close, I can do it.”
“When will this happen, Top?” Mike asked. He didn’t think his parents would travel to Texas but it couldn’t hurt to ask. Not like he had a wife or girlfriend. As he sat there Trish appeared in his mind. Shaking his head a bit to knock that image out — a break from women was needed after the crap Denise had put him through. Maybe one of the guys?
“Next Monday during morning formation. Let me know so I can give the sergeant major a heads up,” Top answered.
“Roger, Top. I’ll have an answer by COB tomorrow. Anything else?” Mike started to stand up but hesitated.
“Need to review the PT scores for your section and start looking at next month’s promotion board but that’s not urgent.” Top turned to his computer, dismissing Mike without saying anything outright.
“Gotcha, Top. Have a good afternoon.” Mike needed to decide if he was going to call the heptad. They hadn’t descended on him or bombarded his phone like he expected after talking to Spook the other night. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to press his luck.
Chapter 6
Trish stood looking into the display case. It looked like some rabid three-year-olds had been in there “arranging” everything. Trish, Christy and Jess had been running for the past two hours. Lunch hour was such a misnomer. It was really from eleven to one depending on schedules. She needed to check and see if Jess had run an ad somewhere because there’d been a big uptick on the number of customers coming in.
“Jess? You run an ad somewhere offering discounts or something?” Trish knew there wasn’t a discount out there except for first responders and military but she had to tease Jess.
“Oh yeah, I ran that billboard out front for a week. Didn’t you love your picture, big as can be?” Jess called back from the kitchen. Trish could just imagine what the mess back there looked like.
“Must have been Christy posting on Twitter and Instagram then,” she teased. Christy looked over her shoulder from where she was at the flavor bar and stuck out her tongue.
Staring at the case wasn’t going to get it cleaned up. Trish pulled out the trays and started consolidating and moving things to make it look less empty. The phone ringing pulled her attention and she grabbed it absentmindedly.
“The Bean Ground, this is Trish,” she said, balancing the phone between her shoulder and ear, reaching for the order pad.
“Hi, this is Miranda from Bank Happy across the street. Is it too late for lunch and can you deliver?”
“Let me check on delivery but it’s not too late for lunch.” Trish put the call on hold and called out to Jess. “Jess? Can one of us deliver to the bank across the street if they order lunch?” They normally only delivered if it was a catering job but with the rush over, Jess might decide on an exception.
Jess stuck her head through the opening. “Yeah, why not. You can run it over and get some air. You’ve been here since opening.”
Trish didn’t think she needed air but whatever. She wasn’t going to push getting out of the air conditioning for a few minutes. Clicking back to the call she told the lady, “We can deliver. What can we get you?” The order wasn’t a small one; after reading back the complete order Trish finished the call with, “Okay, it’s going to be about thirty minutes.”
“That’s fine. We know it’s a big order. If we’d realized that the area manager was going to be here for so long, we would’ve ordered ahead of time. See you in a bit.”
§ § §
Mike shifted in his seat as he waited for the new private to read the paperwork at the bank off post. He wasn’t sure how Powell made it through advanced training, but his scores were off the charts; seemed he just couldn’t focus on the day-to-day chores that everyone needed to deal with, like balancing their checkbook. Having his day start out with a call from the PX because one of his soldiers bounced a check wasn’t the best. After spending time talking through everything with Powell, Mike realized that a local bank was the first thing the boy needed. Guess his mother had been taking care of his money and giving him an allowance. When Mike first heard the specialist tell him that, he thought the first sergeant was playing a joke on him. The joke really was on him because it wasn’t a joke. Several calls later had him in his current location.
Sitting in front of a plate glass window had Mike on edge. He kept looking out the window behind him. He would swear that Trish was walking across the road carrying some big bags. Shaking his head, he turned back to Powell. “How are you doing? Understand what you’re reading?”
“Is there anything I can explain?” the bank teller behind the desk asked. The bell over the door had her turning and saying “Welcome to Bank Happy where your happiness is our goal. Someone will be with you shortly.”
Your happiness is our goal. Mike’s happiness could be bought with a cup of coffee from across the street and if he could see Trish while— Cutting off his internal rambling, he looked over at the new customer and blinked. Trish had been crossing the road as she was standing five feet from him with her hands full. Mike jumped up and rushed to help her before something hit the ground. He didn’t want to see Trish on the ground again.
“Hi Trish,” Mike said as he got close. She looked tired. Maybe he’d walk her back to the café. Powell could wait in his car for Mike.
“Hey you,” she said quietly with a small smile on her lips.Wonder what they’d taste like?
§ § §
What were the odds that Mike was at the bank when Trish delivered their food? Guess they were pretty high since he was standing in front of her, taking the bags out of her hands.
“Where do you need me to bring this?” he asked as he held out his arm in a gesture for her to lead the way.
Trish walked over to the main desk and asked for Miranda. “Where do you want this set up?”
“Can you put it all out in the break room? They should be ready for lunch by now. It’s the first door on the hallway. I’d offer to help but it looks like you brought your own,” Miranda said with a wink.
