Decency Read Free

work inside, or in a car, in air conditioning. But not forever.
    Tom Koonce, Cass County, Nebraska, Deputy Sheriff, was one of those. But he would have to turn off the cruiser or drive, soon. He already spent nearly all of his lunch break in her folks’ café. Now, he waited out front in the cruiser, its temperature gauge slowly lifting from the air conditioner’s heavy load. He knew what he would do. He would not move. Twenty one years ago, Tom had the misfortune of falling irretrievably in love with Samantha. She loved him too, but she felt the pull of the world and left for Duke. Tom never escaped her gravity, but could not follow.
    Just then, a late model, “1” county plate, likely from the airport rental agency, nosed over the rise into the shimmering space between. Her. He flipped off the ignition and stepped out.

     
    …well, there’s Tom…bless his heart…

     
    She wheeled into the space next to the cruiser. Tom strode around to her door and opened it.
    “Hey, Tom!”
    “Lady, it’s awful good to see you.”
    She swung out and put both arms around his neck. He hugged her as tightly as she invited, for as long as he dared. Then, at arm’s length she brightly smiled under her copper hair, blue eyes twinkling.
    “Never lost that soft spot did you, Tom?”
    “Never claimed to. You know that.” He didn’t really have to speak at all. His eyes confessed everything.
    “How is Tammy?”
    “She’s fine. And our kids. Your Mom told me when you’d be coming…”
    “You look great, Tom. Tammy must be taking good care of you.”
    “She is…”
    Stolen moments. All there would ever be.
    “Best let you go on in to your folks. I’ll catch up with you now and again before you go back. Okay?”
    “Sure, thanks for meeting me.”
    She hugged him again, then let him turn away. He backed the cruiser, wheeled around, waved and rolled away.
    She ducked back in the car. Not for her purse, she could leave that on the sidewalk and someone would just turn it in at the café. This was urgent. Two pounds of fresh Maryland jumbo lump crab meat, iced in a small plastic cooler from the Jessup distributor, hand-carried on the plane, a tradition for homecomings started when she moved to the Fort Meade area for NSA. Her Dad believed there were none better than her crab cakes. Never mind that he’d only tried hers.
    Samantha bounded into the cafe. The lunch crowd was gone. Only her Dad was in the front. When the door opened, he jumped up to catch her flying hug. He squeezed his eyelids tightly to minimize the tears. Harlan Pierce, wind-burnished face, work-steeled limbs, and life softened heart, for several years now could never get past the first or last few minutes with his only daughter dry eyed.
    “Dad, it’s so good to be home.”
    Her mother saw her come in through the long window to the kitchen and hurried out and around the bar to join them.
    Harlan handed her off to her mother. For Kathy Pierce the first few minutes were always pure excitement.
    “Ooo-oo, my sweet girl! It’s so good to have you back!”
    Samantha hung one arm around each of their necks and kissed their cheeks.
    “Did I run all of your customers off?”
    “Oh sure. We only told Tom the time or we’d’ve had a houseful.”
    Harlan had enough of his voice back to venture a few words.
    “Darlin,’ you look better than ever…”
    “Probably look thirstier too. Is the tea still in the same spot?”
    “Sure is.”
    “I need to put this crab meat away too.”
    “Sa man tha. You didn’t need to do that.”
    “Mo ther . I most certainly did. My Dad likes crab cakes.”
    “Pour one for me too, please, darlin.’ I’ll take it with me down to the farm. I need to get a little field work in this afternoon.”
    Samantha came back with two tumblers of iced tea. “What time should I have your crab cakes ready, Dad?”
    “Kath, should we eat here or at the house?”
    “I’d say the house. The early customers can see Samantha and it’ll save