Deployed

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Authors: Mel Odom
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MRE that certainly didn’t fit the description printed on the package. Outside of her granny’s kitchen, Hollister’s was the place that smelled most like home.
    It was a quarter to seven and a dozen or so regulars, most of them seniors who spent most of the morning gossiping, sat in the dining area. Conversation stopped for a moment as they all looked at her.
    Glad to see the local grapevine is still in effect. Bekah noddedand focused her attention on the door to the kitchen. She needed to punch in and get started. She was pulling a double today.
    Once she was through the back door, Dwight Hollister called her name. He sat in the small office off the kitchen, a squat little man with too-perfect hair, a short-sleeved shirt, and bland brown eyes behind thick-lensed glasses.
    “Can you come in here for a minute?” Dwight rested his hands over his paunch and leaned back in his chair.
    Bekah had a bad feeling. Dwight was being polite. The man was never polite. Uneasily, she took the chair he waved her toward. She sat and waited.
    “Bekah, there’s no good way to put this to you, but I’m going to have to let you go.” Dwight looked sour.
    “Let me go?” At first the words didn’t make any sense to Bekah.
    “Yeah. I’m sorry, but that’s just how it has to be.”
    “Why?”
    Dwight waved a hand. “Cutbacks. It’s this recession we’re in. Gotta make some adjustments. Nothing personal.”
    “I work on tips, Mr. Hollister. And you don’t provide benefits. It’s not like the restaurant is out a lot of money having me at this job.”
    “I’m sorry. It’s just the way it has to be.” Dwight looked down and wouldn’t meet her eyes. He reached into a drawer and came out with an envelope. “I’ve got your final check here. I added an extra week’s pay.”
    Numbly, Bekah took the envelope because she didn’t know what else she was supposed to do.
    “It’s not like you really needed this job, Bekah. Your grandma looks out for you and your son.”
    That brought some anger back to Bekah and she tried to rein it in. “I make my own way, Mr. Hollister. I work hard to make my own way.”
    “Don’t make this any more difficult than it has to be.”
    “Why does it have to be difficult? What has changed?”
    “Bekah.” Dwight looked at her calmly, and she saw that there was maybe a little shame in his gaze, but it wasn’t going to affect his decision. “You’ve worked at this restaurant for nine years, off and on. Since you were a girl. The Hollister family has taken care of you.”
    “And I’ve worked hard, Mr. Hollister. I’ve worked every shift that was asked, and I’ve picked up slack when there was some. The only time I’ve ever missed is when I was having Travis.”
    “You missed while you were off with the Marines too. I took care of you then, and I made sure you had a job when you came back.”
    Bekah wanted to point out again how hard she worked, but she knew it wouldn’t do any good.
    “I just can’t do that anymore. I’m sorry.”
    “This is about Buck Miller, isn’t it?”
    Dwight hesitated, then gave her a short nod. “Yes. It is. I can’t afford to have him or his friends come in here and bust the place up. Darlton’s was lucky to get by with just a little damage the other night. Those people Buck is running with these days?” He shook his head. “Some of those folks are dangerous. I can’t risk anybody getting hurt. Buck’s gonna get back on his feet again, and he might just come lookingfor you. I can’t take that chance.” He paused. “I’ll be happy to give you a recommendation for somewhere else. Anywhere else you want to go.”
    “Where am I supposed to go?”
    “They got restaurants in Murchison, secretarial jobs, other things. You can find something. I know you can.”
    Bekah had already thought about those options a long time ago. The truth of the matter was that she was a blue-collar girl with little training. The Marines hadn’t expanded her knowledge base

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