here.â
âYou donât have a nip and a taste of lussiketbröd for your Bampy?â
âGit,â she said harshly. âI mean it, Perry!â
The old man opened the gun case and gulped. âA new scattergun!â
âSixteen-gauge, your favorite,â she said. âDonât shoot your foot off.â
âI had my scattergun stolen,â Perry said in Serviceâs direction. âSome Philistines from down below copped it.â
âYou walked out of the woods and left the damn thing,â Mehegen snarled. âYou try to blame everything on people from below the bridge.â
âOnly because they deserve it,â he said resolutely.
She handed the old manâs keys to him, took Serviceâs hand, and led him to the porch.
âWeâre going back to bed,â she said, tugging Serviceâs sleeve.
â Lussiketbröd? â the old man said in a pleading, almost pathetic tone.
âNext yearâif youâre still alive,â she said, pulling Service inside and slamming the door. She immediately put her arms around his neck and said, âMemorable Christmas, eh?â
âIs he always like this?â he asked.
She laughed. âHeâs a pip, and heâs got the world convinced heâs sane, but I know heâs totally nutso.â She pulled out a chair. âSit. Still, you gotta admit, he knows how to capture attention.â She added, âThis isnât done yet.â
Service sat down as Mehegen got out a plastic plate, cut a large piece of the bread, uncapped a beer, and sat down beside him.
Seconds later there was a rapping on the door. âSugarpie, itâs snowing out here.â
âCome in,â she shouted at the door.
Perry stepped inside carrying his new gun case.
â That stays outside,â she said.
âA flatlander will steal it,â he protested, clutching the case to his chest.
âItâs okay,â Service said, trying to play peacemaker.
âNo itâs not,â Mehegen insisted. âHeâs not allowed to have firearms in the house.â
âThis isnât his house,â Service reminded her. âItâs mine, and I have firearms in here.â
âI left my pistol in the van,â Perry offered.
Mehegen threw up her hands and rolled her eyes. âClose the door! Youâre letting the snow in.â
Perry saw the bread and immediately grabbed at it, but Mehegen lightly slapped his hand. âAct civilized,â she said. âYou remember how, right?â
âWas me taught you manners,â he said, sitting down, the gun case propped against his leg. âAnd I donât like that tone of voice.â
The man devoured the bread and cut himself a second helping before grabbing at the beer, which he didnât quite get and knocked over the edge of the table. It hit with a pop, spewing foam across the floor.
Service grabbed a sponge and immediately got on his knees to soak up the beer. âPaper towels,â he told Mehegen, who stepped past him just as there was an explosion from the table. Service felt her collapse heavily on top of him.
âGoddamn it, Perry! Goddamn it! â she began shrieking as she scrambled off Service.
He looked up to see the end of the gun case tattered and burned, and a hole in the ceiling. Snow was wafting gently through the hole, landing on the bread and table.
Mehegen began to shout at her grandfather, but Service grabbed her arm and began laughing, until all three of them were laughing and unable to speak.
It was late morning before they could get Perry on his way and the roof hole patched.
Work done, they immediately went back to bed. âI warned you not to invite him in with that damn shotgun!â she said.
âWhere did he get the ammo?â
âFrom his van. Heâs been carrying it ever since he lost the other one. Merry Christmas,â she said, kissing him lightly.
They tried
Dirk Wittenborn, Jazz Johnson