Two Days Of A Dream (2 page)

Millam opened his mouth and Duran glared at him. Millam shut it with an audible snap.

"It was a waste of resources that you two will pay for with sweat." Duran stomped another elliptical circuit, letting the anger build. "Your aim was so bad that you obviously need extra trajectory drills! When you aren't on duty, sleeping, or eating quick-ly, you will report to the officer on duty for drill time!" Millam twitched, but his captain didn't give Millam a chance to make him angrier. "Your life depends on what you do or don't do! Your actions determine the safety of every person in this camp! It was bad enough Gunnery Sergeant Graves got blindsided with your concoction of leftover oatmeal -- and I don't want to know what else -- but not being aware of your surroundings, you also got the colonel! I will not tolerate pranks of any kind! Do you understand me!"

Colonel Broan chewed Duran’s major apart, then his major ripped Duran apart for half an hour, before releasing the captain to deal with his testosterone-filled men. Duran could have passed the verbal assault onto his lieutenant to handle, but preferred to deal with these two personally.

"Yes sir!" Tanyard's quavering voice boomed over Millam's, and Duran felt sorry for the young man.

"Good, because every time the colonel reminds me of oatmeal in his hair, I will remind you with extra work details!"

A quiet groan escaped Tanyard, but Millam, though not really smirking, looked satisfied. The captain would have to wipe that almost-smirk off his face for the next month, longer if he had to, until he got it through Millam's thick skull this was no place to goof off. Millam would just have to wait until he was stateside to be stupid.

"Obviously, I'm not keeping you two busy enough. I will alleviate that oversight. Tanyard!" Tanyard's slim build jerked straighter. "Report to Lieutenant Stover for the first of many trajectory drills." The boy didn't budge his eyes wide and his skin a sickly shade of yellow. "Move it, soldier!"

Tanyard dashed from the tent, which served as Duran's office here in the middle of nowhere.

Turning back to Millam, Duran heaved an exasperated sigh. He didn't know how to inspire his wayward private to pull out the greatness that he knew was inside. Duran leaned against his tiny desk, rubbing his eyes.

"Okay, then." Duran leaned back against the desk, eyes locked with the private's. "Tell me, in as few words as possible, what this prank was about."

"Yes, sir." Millam cleared his throat. ""Motor Pool said artillery was lazy and only our trigger fingers were worth anything."

Duran shook his head. These rivalries were going to turn him gray. He didn't care what his major said about them being good for moral.

"NO! I don't want to hear it. I want it dismantled and everything put back or I will loan you to Motor Pool to do all their cleaning until your rotation is up! Understood!"

"Yes, sir." Millam looked at the ground before jerking his head back to attention.

Duran rubbed his temples. "So basically you're telling me I'm stuck here listening to your juvenile explanation instead of being in my cot sleeping because you felt a need to sink to a Junior High mentality?" Millam clinched his teeth "Well, Millam!"

"Yes, sir."

"Yes, sir what?"

Millam puckered his face for a brief moment and cleared his throat. "Yes, sir, you're stuck here listening to my juvenile explanation instead of sleeping, sir." He set his jaw.

Duran hated coming down so hard but this was the only way to keep from having to write a letter to Millam's mother about the death of her son. The captain took seriously the safety of his men. "Millam, you're good at what you do, when you want to be. I've been patient with your antics, but that patience has run out. Do you understand what I'm saying to you?"

"Yes sir," he said crisply.

"Report to Stover. Dismissed."

Duran needed to do some serious thinking about how to motivate Millam, because he had the feeling the extra drills and work details weren't going to do the trick.

But first, he needed some sleep.

Chapter Three

Kelly jammed the key into the lock and listened to the deadbolt roll back. Ah, home at last.

The office was behind her and the week was wrapped up. She didn't have to worry about Brinker jumping off a bridge, because she had seen his arm wrapped securely around the new redhead in purchasing. He had found a willing female to nurse his ego. She now had nothing to worry about for two whole days.

She made a beeline to her bedroom where she stripped off her power suit and hung it as far back in the closet as it would go. Next, she neatly put away those torturous heels, third shelf down, right side. From her dresser, she pulled out something more comfortable, breathing a sigh of relief. It felt good to shed her corporate facade here in her little realm where she didn't have to be the tough witch.

There had been plenty of men who were more than willing to help her achieve number four. But she didn't want any of them for number three, and they weren't at all interested in number three to begin with.

The phone rang, jarring her pity party. She looked at caller ID. It was her Aunt Shirley, checking up. Not really feeling like talking, she considered letting the call go to voice mail. But Kelly could never tell her sweet aunt no.

"Hello, Auntie, how's it going?" She thought she did a pretty good job of sounding happy.

"Hello, Kelly, it goes well." The aging voice washed love over Kelly's desiccated soul, and Kelly put her feet up, relaxing into the cushions. "How's my favorite niece?"

"I thought I told you we broke up." Kelly knew she told her aunt because Kelly had cried for fifteen minutes into the phone before she could get anything coherent out of her mouth.

"You did, but since you haven't mentioned anyone else for what ... the last year? I thought maybe you and Mark might get back together."

"It’s been a year and a half. Sorry to disappoint you, but Mark got married last year." She had to take a deep breath to steady her voice.

"Don't be. Mark's happy and I'm doing just fine.” Kelly wasn't really fine but got by. "He married Lucy from accounting."

Aunt Shirley tsk'd. "I hadn't wanted to pry at the time, since you were so upset. You know, you never explained why you broke it off in the first place."

"I wasn't upset."
Really, I wasn't,
Kelly rationalized.

Nope, Aunt Shirley knew Kelly too well. "Okay, okay. Mark, as you know, is a really nice guy and I thought he would make a good number three and father but ..." She wasn't sure how to word this.

Kelly rose and walked across the room to straighten the large chrome lamp that hung like a teardrop at the end of an arching reed. "That's what I thought when he first brought it up. But he was very serious. She's a very good person and we got along great, but the idea of her being in the house while we worked on number four put my feet on ice."

"Number four?"

"Yes, number four is children. You know my four-point plan." Kelly returned to the couch, pulling her knees up to pick at a hole in her sweats.

"You and your numbers,” Aunt Shirley groused. “It’s a baby, not a number four."

"Okay, a baby ... Auntie, I just couldn't do it." Kelly leapt up again and paced the dark tan carpet to the window and looked out.

Aunt Shirley sighed. "I understand, sweetie. It’s just that I had hoped you would be happy with Mark."

"I had hoped so, too She peered out the heavy damask drapes. There was nothing to see in the dark but the street lamps, so she returned to the couch.

"You're running out of time if you want number fours. Your birthday is in four months."

Aunt Shirley would remind her as though her biological clock hadn't been getting louder with each birthday since she turned twenty-seven.

"I thought that was babies." Kelly plopped down and hugged a pillow to her chest.

"All right, babies. Do you want babies?"

Oh how she wanted babies Without a doubt, no one she knew could imagine that Kelly, the big career woman, would give it all away for a little soft bundle with a poohed diaper. She must be crazy.

She always thinks the best of me whether I deserve it or not.
A sigh seeped out. "I wish." She felt it was more likely they knew her too well.

"Maybe Mark and Lucy won't make it, and you'll have another chance at him."

Kelly gasped. "What an awful thing to say!" Aunt Shirley giggled and Kelly realized the older woman was kidding. "'Sides, they're expecting their first number four in a few months. The way he smiles all the time, I doubt there's any marital discord. I guess having Lois there didn't hamper their love life any."

"You'll find someone." Aunt Shirley's voice was confident.

"I should have taken him up on his offer, because it will probably be my only one." Kelly detested pouting but found her bottom lip sticking out. She sucked it back in.

"That's okay Auntie ... I'm fine. I always enjoy talking to you." Even when the conversation becomes excruciating, Kelly would never pass up a chance to talk to her wonderful aunt.

They said their good-byes. Kelly closed her cell phone and held it to her heart for a few moments. She hurt so badly inside she didn't know how to express it.

Her conversation with her aunt nagged at her, picking at the sore in her heart. Oh, why did Aunt Shirley have to bring this up? She used to date. In college, she dated a lot. When starting with this company, she dated plenty. However, back then, the only thing the men in her company wanted involved warming their beds. She wouldn't have any of that, as she had better things planned for her life. Let them buy an electric blanket.