Showing posts with label holidays. Show all posts
Showing posts with label holidays. Show all posts

Wednesday, December 18, 2019

Daring Decision


Month 10 Day 25
1911 Hours
Bugalu

Bugalu walked into the living room of Room 42 expecting to find Mac working on her projects, and stopped in surprise. His adopted sister stood with a foot resting on her desk and was bent over, trying to touch her forehead to her shin. And she isn’t wearing that much, either, just a skimpy 2-piece exercise outfit. When did she get it? Abdulla did a blast of a job taking her shopping, but I’m not surprised I’ve never seen her wear this outfit in the gym.

She had twisted her head toward him when he entered, and now she stood up. “You shouldn’t be here,” she told him. “I’ve been confined to quarters. I’m pretty sure I’m not supposed to have visitors.”

“Actually, I’m here at Della’s invitation,” he returned. “Sort of.”

Mac gave him an uncertain, scared little grin. “Do I get to watch this time? Because I can’t leave.”

“I don’t think that’s what she had in mind,” he replied, and looked around the room, which was devoid of any other people, including Mac’s blond roommate. I guess Della let reason prevail about that crazy party idea she had. “I thought you’d be working on your projects.”

She grimaced and put her other foot on the desk to do a similar stretch. “I checked on them. The computer is chugging right along without too much input needed from me. Since I won’t be able to get to the gym to work out, I thought maybe I should try to see how much ballet I can remember. It’s shocking to see just how un-flexible I am these days. So I guess I’ll be working on that.”

“You should have told Smythe you didn’t build those things.”

She stood up again and walked over to stand in front of him. “I tried. He wouldn’t even let me finish the sentence. He obviously was not in the mood to listen to anything I said.” She put a hand on his shoulder, raised the opposite foot behind her and tried to coax it toward her head with her other hand.

Bugs heard the door open behind him. “You might want to get some clothes on,” he suggested. Mac stopped stretching to peer around him, then turned and made a mad dash for the bedroom. In a moment, he heard the bathroom door close. He turned to find Capac and Ryan staring at the bedroom, their mouths open.

“Did we... interrupt?” Capac asked.

“No,” he answered. “She’s a little upset.”

“Can’t blame her!” Della stated, and Bugs realized she was organizing a few bottles of liquor on her desk. “I can’t imagine what she’s done that makes Mr Smythe so angry with her all the time.”

“Well, has she been in his bed yet?” Ryan asked. “Maybe he’s overheated.”

Interesting idea. But the look Bugs gave the other man was cold. “He’s not Winthrop.”

Ryan grinned. “No, of course not. But he is a man.”

Della giggled. “Some of us wonder. He never even looks at a female.”

“You mean, female engineers,” Ryan corrected. “I hear he’s seen Monroe.”

“Who hasn’t?” Bugsy asked. “She’s almost as active as you, Della.”

“Almost,” Della agreed cheerfully.

More people entered, some carrying bowls of snacks. Kyle brought 1 of the mistletoe units and let it loose. Someone started some music. By the time Mac emerged from the bathroom - fully dressed in long sleeves and slacks - Della’s party was going full steam. “What’s going on?” Mac asked in bewilderment.

“Della’s having a party,” Capac told her. “But you didn’t need to change for it.”

Mac looked around wildly. “Della!” She hurried across the room, and her roommate obligingly turned her attention away from Ryan. “Della, we can’t have all these people here! I’m confined to quarters!”

“They’re my guests, not yours,” Della answered with a shrug, and moved away.

Mac opened her mouth to protest, hesitated, and then had to follow the blond, who stopped next to Bugalu. “Wait. Does that work? It doesn’t seem right.”

“Look, I wanted to have a party,” Della told her. “It’s not your fault if Mr Smythe didn’t know that.” She turned to the helmsman. “Tell her, Bugalu.”

Bugsy stared into Mac’s green eyes and knew he could not give his sister the answer Della wanted him to give. It’s obvious Mac hasn’t been studying regulations. And whatever I tell her right now, she’ll accept as the truth. Because I keep her out of trouble. But if Della is determined to have a party, and Mac realizes she can’t stay here during such a thing, but she can’t leave... What a mess. It’s never pretty when roommates argue. “Here’s the thing, Mac-”

“Hey, Mac.” Ferguson breezed past, put a hand on her arm to turn her to face him. Her back suddenly stiff, her hands clenched, she swung into a fighting stance and took half a step backwards. Ferguson held up his hands, palms facing her. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you. But I thought maybe... you know.” He gestured over her head. “Mistletoe”. He grinned.

“Not again!” she groaned under her breath. “It was almost a relief to get confined, to get away from that stuff.”

“It doesn’t have to be a big kiss, Mac,” Ferguson stated softly.

She placed a dainty hand on the big cook’s chest. Then stiffened her arm so he couldn’t pull her any closer, grabbed Bugalu’s tunic with the other hand and pulled him toward her. “Bugalu?”

He couldn’t help but remember the feel of her body pressed against his as they danced, during her first shore leave on the Fireball. My kissing her - again - is probably not a good idea. “Not me, Mac. Pick someone else.”

“Please, Bugs!” she pleaded. “Papa...” She couldn’t finish, but he knew what she meant. Blast! Papa has lousy timing! This would have been the perfect time for her to experiment with kissing and then laugh it off and use the mistletoe as an excuse, if anybody wanted too much.Please, Bugs,” she breathed, stepping closer.

He sighed. This is against my better judgment. “All right,” he agreed, and slipped an arm around her. He intended a light, quick meeting of the lips, but found he couldn’t end it that quickly. Her arm slipped around his neck, and he pulled her tight.

Wednesday, December 11, 2019

Second Thoughts


Month 10 Day 25
1812 Hours
MacGregor

Drake stared regretfully at the last 2 bites of his pumpkin pie and decided he could not finish it. The cooks outdid themselves. “I won’t need to eat for a week,” he stated.

“Yes,” Smitty agreed, and pushed the remnants of his pie away too. He did reach, however, for his glass of eggnog.

“That stuff’s pretty potent,” Jane commented, probably trying to hint that the engineer should slow down on his intake of the stuff. “The kick is hidden by the other flavors, but I’ve only had one glass, and I already feel tipsy.”

Smitty sighed and regretfully set his glass down. “You’re right, of course. I just thought it would be a shame to waste it.”

Jane relented. “Well, take it to your quarters,” she suggested.

That brought a big grin to Smitty’s face. “I believe I will. That certainly won’t be a hardship.”

“No.” Jane smirked. “I didn’t think it would be.” She paused for half a heartbeat before adding, “And it looked like you needed it, after that kiss from MacDowell.” Smitty’s face fell abruptly, and just as abruptly tried to look blank. He reached for his glass again, but stopped. Jane went on ruthlessly. “She’s got guts,” she stated. “Blasted if I’d be inclined to kiss a superior who had just bawled me out and confined me to my room. Mistletoe or not.”

What is she up to? If I didn’t know better, I’d think she was trying to play matchmaker. And come to think of it, this isn’t the first time I’ve had that thought. About this particular pair of people. “If it had been me in Smitty’s place,” Drake stated, “I would have grabbed hold and given her a proper kiss.”

Smitty gave him a calculating stare. “I’ve no doubt you would,” he bit out. “And already have.”

Drake gave him a startled look. Is he jealous? Maybe Jane has reason to try to push them together.

“This has been a pleasant encounter,” Takor stated. “The food was most succulent. Please explain the next step of this activity.”

“For me, this is usually the end of this particular human tradition,” Jane explained. “Some of the crew may extend the merriment by hosting or attending a party. Unfortunately, I find this is about all the Christmas merriment I can stand, for the food brings to mind the holidays of my childhood, and that makes me... sad that I haven’t done a better job of staying in touch with my family. So I generally call it a night and retire to my quarters right about now.”

“I had heard that this holiday - or some of the holidays incorporated into this shipboard season - are usually a time of family celebration. Therefore I wondered why humans continue the tradition when you have no family with you.”

“Well, humans learn childhood traditions with family members, but when they go out into the world, on their own, they often substitute friends for family and in the process, develop new traditions,” Drake explained. “Some people - like the captain - have an emotional response to the holidays that seems counter to the holiday spirit. It’s a normal response for those people, as long as it doesn’t drag on too long.”

“If it starts dragging, I know where sick bay is,” Jane told him, and stood up. “Gentlemen, Takor, I thank you again for your gifts. They are appreciated. I hope you all enjoy my gifts to you. Now let’s get this table cleaned off, and then I’ll take my leave of you. Before my mood spreads to any of you.”

They all stood and began to gather together dirty dishes and utensils, trying to keep their presents from winding up on a tray and then in the kitchen. Since Drake still had Mac’s gift - still dressed in wrapping paper - in among his unwrapped goodies, and which he was trying to keep the others from noticing, he took a bit longer to make sure it was tucked away and unnoticeable. He felt a hand on his shoulder and quickly glanced overhead. Nope, no mistletoe this time. The hand belonged to Yellow Dog, who began helping him stack his plates on his tray. “You brought us food to begin with. You don’t need to clean up after us, too,” he stated, and glimpsed her raising her hand, felt her touch in his hair. “What was that?” he asked, completely confused.

She leaned forward and kissed him, her hands on his shoulders. After his initial surprise, he pulled her closer, wanting to prolong the activity he had thought about so often over the past 10 months. When he finally let go, her arms were around his neck, and he saw a flame of passion in her dark eyes. “Now, that I could get used to,” he drawled quietly, surprised at how husky his voice was.

She gave him a satisfied smile, plucked a bit of mistletoe from his hair, and left. What do I make of that? Is she interested? Teasing? What?

The others returned from disposing of their dirty dishes and began to collect their gifts from the table. “Did you see that?” Jane quietly asked Smitty. “I could hardly have been surprised if you had reacted similarly, Smitty. With MacDowell.”

Smitty gave her an indignant look. “If she wore a different color uniform-!”

Jane broke in. “I didn’t see any uniform.” She shook her head. “Too late now, of course. Don’t forget the eggnog, Smitty. At least you don’t have to get up in the morning, since you’re off duty tomorrow.” She turned to go, sighed and turned back. “You should be careful what you wish for, Smitty. The new uniforms start with the new year, and as usual, the change will start with the higher officers. So get yourselves appointments with the ship’s tailor at your very first opportunity. Good night.” And this time, she did walk off.

What is it about new uniforms that Smitty should have been careful wishing for?

Friday, November 29, 2019

Gifts Among Friends


Month 10 Day 25
1721 Hours
Bugalu

Bugalu and Mac each took a tray of dirty dishes to the receptacle while their friends discussed in what order the presents should be opened. “I was surprised to see you prepared with gifts,” Bugalu told his adopted sister. “Knowing how strict your father was, even at Christmas...”

“Well, I knew from the Academy that what he had expected wasn’t ‘normal’. And my years on tugs showed me I didn’t want to sit on the sidelines. So I asked Tall Bear for some guidance.”

“You asked Bear? And you haven’t even adopted him. Yet.”

She shrugged. “He’s a nice guy. I don’t think he’d steer me wrong. And I find I like his company.”

“Careful, Mac, that’s beginning to sound like he might be dating material,” he teased.

Her face flushed. She moved a step closer and whispered, “He told me a date doesn’t always include sex.”

“True,” he agreed in surprise. “For me, as well.”

“Yes, but you’re already off the table,” she answered and led the way back.

“We decided to open the presents by their size,” Della greeted them. “The biggest gets opened first, and that would be this thing for Capac.” She moved the large lump of wrapping paper to a position in front of the navigator.

“Who is it from?” Capac asked, turning over the label. “It’s from Mac!” He looked up in surprise. “Thank you, Mac. I don’t know what it is yet, but I already like it.”

She gave him a smile that held just a hint of hardness to her chin. “You were not easy to find something for, Capac. I’m afraid it’s fairly generic.”

He tore open the paper, to reveal what looked like a chunk of crudely carved rock. “What... is it?” he mumbled.

“It looks like a prehistoric carving,” Abdulla stated. “Aren’t those usually of gods and goddesses?”

“It’s a replica of one,” Mac agreed. “I had fabrication make it. The original is in a museum in Peru. It’s from a people before the Incas.”

“I thought it was awfully light to be real rock,” Temple stated. “But it looks real.”

“Something from Peru,” Capac muttered, running his hands over the fake carving.

“Well, Mac gave that present, so now it’s time for her largest gift to be opened. And that looks like... this one.” Temple handed her a present to open.

And so it went, back and forth among the friends, with quite a lot of laughter and thank yous. The presents ran the gamut of ‘the usual’ for the most part; perfume or after-shave lotion, books, music chips, and so on. Except for the gifts given by Mac. She gave Beth a medical medallion; not suitable for wearing with her uniform, but perfect for partywear. Della got a hair comb with the engineering logo, and Abdulla got a large piece of intricate lace that she could use as a scarf or a shawl. She gave Bugalu a small plastic pot with a strange looking plastic plant, which he recognized immediately as a Venus Flytrap. “Fabrication had a lot of trouble making that look right, so don’t let it die!” she admonished her adopted brother.

He laughed at her nonsense. “I promise to somehow keep this not-alive plant from dying!”

Mac gave Yellow Dog a bracelet of polished stones, and presented Tall Bear with an arrow head.

“I appreciate the thought, Mac,” Bear told her. “Did you get the pattern for this from some museum back on Earth?”

“No, I got it from Dog’s arrows,” she answered.

“You have a bow with those arrows?” he asked the NAmerInd woman.

YD nodded slowly and said, “Art.”

“She keeps them on the wall over her bed,” Mac added.

“Maybe we should take our artwork and practice together sometime,” he suggested.

“Good,” Dog agreed, and handed Mac a present to open. Inside was a length of reddish-brown cloth.

“Umm, what is it?”

“Headband,” Dog answered.

“Hey!” Bear protested. “Trying to push her into my tribe?” Dog grinned, and Bear settled down. “Well, we could do worse,” he decided. “If you want to try wearing it, Red, I’ll teach you how to tie it. Don’t go tying a bow into it. And if nobody objects, I’d like to give her my present now. It kind of goes with what Dog gave her.”

“Kiss,” YD stated.

“What?” TB responded.

“Well, if you think Mac will let you, she is under the mistletoe,” Abdulla stated calmly.

Mac looked straight up and her face went absolutely white. By the time she lowered her face, she had developed red flags on her cheeks, and a determined look in her eyes. “Give me your hands,” She told Bear. He offered his hands, palms up, and she took a firm grip on them with her own, then looked him straight in the eyes. “Keep it simple,” she instructed softly.

“Brief,” Bugalu added.

Bear obligingly bent forward and touched his lips to hers. She didn’t resist, he didn’t try for anything more than that simple contact, and it seemed to go on for a long time. Then she suddenly pushed him away and stood up as so many emotions chased across her face so fast that Bugs couldn’t be sure what emotion was winning the race.

“I have to go,” Mac breathed hoarsely and headed for the exit.

Apparently, she wasn’t watching where she was going, for she ran into Bosiljevac, knocking him to the floor, and landing atop him. Bosiljevac wiped potatoes and gravy from his face. “Mac? What’s going on?”

Freyer, who had arrived with Bosiljevac, shoved her supper tray onto the nearest table and helped the Gaelunder to her feet. “What’s the matter, Mac?”

Mac was nearly in tears, and looked at the food smeared on the floor as Bosiljevac climbed to his feet. “Oh, space, look at this mess! I don’t have time to clean it up! I have to get out of here!”

“Well, then, go,” Bosiljevac urged. “It was my supper; I’ll clean it up.”

With a look of deep gratitude, Mac started for the doorway again. Wow. She’s never abandoned a mess of her own making before! She is really upset. And that was the most gentlemanly kiss anyone could have given her!

Wednesday, November 20, 2019

Christmas Day


Month 10 Day 25
1705 Hours
MacGregor

It had become traditional, on the day designated as ‘Christmas’ on the Fireball, for Captain Burke and her few selected friends to gather in the gaily decorated messhall at 1715 Hours, to exchange token gifts before they filled plates from the wonderful buffet laid out across the entire side of the room and shared the bottle of wine that Smitty inevitably gave Jane on this occasion.

Over the years, Drake had come to the conclusion that they arrived late for this meal because Jane used that last-minute hour to finally wrap their presents, but of course, he couldn’t prove that. And he inevitably arrived a little early, usually because he was hungry. But this time, he had an extra gift to give, and he had hoped he could hand it off without anybody making too big a deal out of it.

When he arrived, he had found Bugalu and his friends sitting at 2 tables pushed together, unopened gifts gathered in the middle as they joked and laughed over their meals. He had thought it would be simple enough for him to reach out and drop a small package in among the rest of them on his way to the table set aside for the captain, but before he could do that, Mac had greeted him very enthusiastically, leaving the others to also notice and greet him. Even Beth had wished him a rather chilly ‘Merry Christmas’. So with all this attention on him, he had decided to find Mac later and give her the present. Best not to set any tongues wagging.

Now Drake sat as his stomach began to growl, impatiently drumming his fingertips on the table as he waited for the others to finally arrive. Well, here we go again. Another bottle of scotch from Smitty. Unimaginative, but at least it’s something I like. He grinned at the gaily wrapped present on the table in front of him that bore Smitty’s name. It looks very similar to the one I wrapped for Mac. Wouldn’t it be a shame if I’d wrapped them and then accidentally got the wrong names on these particular two gifts? I’ll have to be suitably chagrined when he opens it. Wish I could suggest he make the exchange himself.

Warm lips pressed the corner of his mouth. “Merry Christmas, doctor.”

“What?” He turned to see a familiar blond bending over him. “Monroe, I don’t-“

“You’re under the mistletoe, doctor,” the woman explained, and moved off.

Mistletoe over the captain’s table? That’s got to be a mix-up. He glanced up. I’ve been sitting here for 5 minutes or more. You’d think someone - else - would have- His eyes grew large as he saw the sprig of greenery attached to an antigravity unit, wandering around the room at just below ceiling level. Well, what do you know? Now, who could have dreamed up... Mac! Who else? Just one more example of that infamous imagination of hers. The same brain that Smitty thinks doesn’t know a thing.

“Here already, Duck?” Jane asked, sliding into one of the empty chairs. “Was that a nurse kissing you?”

“The mistletoe was over me,” he explained.

Trying not to frown, she glanced overhead. “I don’t see any mistletoe.”

“It moves around,” he explained, searching the upper reaches of the messhall. “There it is, wandering towards the kitchen.”

Jane glanced in that direction. “How does it move around like that?”

“I’m not an engineer,” Drake returned. “Ask Smitty. Or better yet, Mac. I suspect she’s the one who came up with them.”

Takor appeared at the side of the table, its arms full of several items wrapped in colorful paper and bows. “Please assist. I fear I may drop some of them.” Jane and Drake carefully helped it deposit the gifts onto the table with the others and it sat down in relief. “I hope I have chosen appropriate gifts. I did have assistance from my yeoman. She was particularly helpful in the wrapping stage.”

“I’m sure whatever you give us will be fine,” Jane told him. “Now, as soon as Smitty gets here, we can get this thing started. I’m especially hungry tonight, and can’t wait to get started on that turkey.”

“Sorry I’m late,” Smitty stated as he slid into the remaining empty seat. He started to hand Jane a package, looked at it closely, and gave it to Drake instead, then gave the other similar-sized package to Jane. The final package was flat and a bit floppy as he handed it to Takor. “I hope you all like them.”

“I’m sure we will,” Burke stated. “And I guess that means we’re starting, so first, let’s sort out which presents belong to whom.”

While they were doing that, someone started placing small plates of various appetizers on their table, and Drake looked up. “Yellow Dog! What’s this?”

She smiled, said, “Noel,” and placed a bottle of eggnog on the table.

“Thank you,” Smitty told her with a grin as he munched a celery stick and reached for the eggnog. “But you needn’t have.”

“You aren’t a servant,” Jane pointed out.

“Yes,” she agreed, and accepted a small package from Takor.

“Wait.” Takor picked up another package and held it out to her. “For Mac.”

The NAmerInd conversationally repeated, “Mac,” and half-way across the room, the redhead looked up. After a quick search through the packages on their double table, Mac trotted over and presented one to the Sciss.

“I’m so happy you decided to give me a gift, Takor. I know I’ll like it. I tried my best to create a family spiral for you that you could put on your wall. For decoration. But 3-d items work best in... well, in 3-d. I hope you like it anyway. Good night, sirs, and... Merry Christmas.” She took the gift Takor offered her and the 2 ladies went back to rejoin their friends.

“A family spiral?” Jane asked her science officer.

“I believe a human would call it a family tree.”

“This is nice,” Smitty stated. “Very tasty.” A smudge of white on his upper lip showed that he had taken a healthy swig of eggnog from the glassful that he had poured himself.

“We’d better get these presents opened,” Drake suggested. “So Smitty can get some food in his stomach along with that eggnog.”

Wednesday, October 30, 2019

Research


Month 10 Day 10
0404 Hours
Tall Bear

TB was surprised when a supper tray was placed on the table next to his and Mac joined him without so much as a ‘by your leave’. But having supper with her seemed to have fallen by the way-side the last few weeks, so he decided to just enjoy her company. “Hey, Short Stuff, long time no see.”

“I hoped you’d be here. I have to ask for permission to take my break at a specific time.”

“Evans giving you a hard time today?”

“No, he’s on D shift these days, so I only see him twice a week. Amano has her own rules for deciding who goes to lunch when.”

“Still, I bet she’s a breath of freshness, after Evans.”

“Plus, now that I can sleep - like a normal person - I can ignore Adams and Evans much more easily.”

“Any idea why Evans and Amano got switched? Nobody seems to know.”

“Well, I have my personal theory, but that would be spreading gossip.”

“Sometimes gossip is the only way to find out anything,” he answered.

“Well, about a week before they were switched... it was the last shift of my official probation period... Cap suddenly emerged from her office about 0300. Adams and Evans were hanging at my station, as usual, but I wasn’t paying any attention. Between incoming mail, I was listening to Yukosk radio stations. Somehow I got the idea she knew exactly what they were doing.”

“Yeah, she would,” Bear stated.

“Anyway, that was when she took me into her office and gave me a pop quiz. What I didn’t know that Smit was hidden in the shadows, listening. So when he said I had passed probation, that time I could accept it.”

“Good.” TB stated, and looked across the room to where Evans and Adams were sharing a table. “The captain is a smart woman, Mac. Seeing how Evans handled - or in this case, mis-handled - his position on the A shift, she quietly shifted him to D shift at the first opportunity. She’s hoping he’ll take the hint and straighten up.”

“Not that I’ve noticed so far. But I haven’t paid attention. I have projects that the captain lets me work on in odd moments during my shift, so I keep busy. Sometimes, it comes as a complete surprise when Abdulla arrives to relieve me. Or Chun.”

“Well, I’m glad Amano let you take a break when we could eat together. I’d gotten used to those funny little conversations.”

“I specifically requested it,” she returned. “I want to ask you some questions.”

He grinned. “I don’t think I’ve gotten any news from home since the last time we discussed my siblings.”

“No, these questions are about the holidays.”

“Holidays?”

“I hear they’re coming up. We had Christmas and New Years on Gaelund, but I understand the ship celebrates a whole bunch of holidays over the course of a week.”

“Oh, white man’s winter holidays.”

Her eyes widened a bit, and then her cheeks went pink. “I’m sorry. I think of you as ‘one of the guys’, so I never thought you might not observe these upcoming holidays.”

“Now, wait, I never said I didn’t. Fact is, when white men showed up in the Americas, they tried to save the souls of us ‘red devils’ by teaching us their religion. Some adopted it, some adapted it to not conflict too much with our traditional religion. We had our own ceremonies for winter solstice. So when I joined the Fleet and found myself facing an entire week of celebrating everybody else’s holidays, I took some time to decide how to proceed.”

“Oh, good. This is almost exactly what I wanted to ask about.”

“Then pay attention. It seemed to me that the main thrust of Christmas - if you remove religion from it - was to acknowledge family members and friends by giving them a present. And that seemed like a good thing, to remember our friends, so I do that, although the list of people I give gifts to might change from year to year.”

“Not family members?”

“I don’t have any family aboard,” he reminded her. “I send a lengthy letter home with a few words for each family member, so they know I remember and love them. That gets a little hairy, figuring out when to send that letter to get there by Christmas time on Earth. I doubt if Grandma - and a few others - have any idea that Christmas time on Earth and holiday time on the ship are seldom the same.”

“That sounds good. I don’t have time to send packages to Gaelund. If I had any packages to send.”

“And then there’s new years. At the Academy, it seemed like everybody spent New Year’s Eve saying good-bye to the old year. The incoming year barely received a couple seconds of blurry-eyed, hung-over attention on New Year’s Day. That’s not my style. I spend New Year’s Eve reflecting on the past year; did I make mistakes, could I have done things better? On New Year’s Day, I make plans on how I’m going to do better. Not so different from White Man’s resolutions.” He glanced at the chronometer. “Hope that answered your questions, Shorty.”

“Almost. How do I know who I’m supposed to give a gift to?”

“It’s not a matter of ‘supposed to’. You decide who you want to give a gift to. Then you figure out what to give them.” At her puckered brow, he went on. “In my opinion, if all the people you are giving gifts to are the same gender, then maybe you should reconsider your reason for giving.”

She tilted her head to one side. “You give gifts to both men and women?”

“That’s right. Bugs and I exchange gifts at Christmas. Abdulla, too.”

“Because you date her.”

“Not that often,” he returned. “Frankly, I don’t date any woman often. And I don’t use Christmas to give a gift to a woman I’m dating. In my mind, Christmas is for friends.”

“So, Abdulla is your friend. And you date her.”

“That’s right.”

“And you have sex with her.”

“Some times.”

Mac took a final drink of her tea and got ready to leave. “I couldn’t do that,” she muttered.

“I haven’t asked you to,” he responded.

She gave him a strange, half-scared look, picked up her tray to leave.

“One last thing, Shorty.” He touched the edge of her tray to get her attention, and she obediently paused. “You don’t have to accept every present thrust at you. Someone like Evans, for instance. Be blunt, tell him you don’t want a gift from him. Somebody else, someone you think might become a friend, you can say you’re embarrassed, but you didn’t have time to find a gift for them. Then they have the option of keeping the gift, or of trying to convince you they’d like you to have it anyway. Think about this ahead of time, Red, because you never know who might decide to give you a gift. You have a whole range of responses to choose from, and punching them shouldn’t be one of them.”

She gave him a brilliant smile. “Thank you, oh wise one, for always trying to keep me out of the brig.”

He stood up with his own tray. “Head out, before you’re late and I never get to see you for lunch again.” He followed her at a more sedate pace. If we can’t get together for lunch, and she doesn’t need to see me at lunch anymore, then maybe we can get together for breakfast. I do miss our conversations.