Chapter 8

Alan’s turn:

It’s something that fathers are expected to do – meet the parents of a child’s prospective spouse. I knew that. The fact that the ‘child’ is thirteen, though ... scary. The fact that the ‘child’ has a baccalaureate in engineering and a seven-figure bank account – scarier.

Prospective spouse? That would be Jerry Stengall. Not a bad choice, if there IS such a thing as a good choice when a dad’s talking about his own daughter. Jerry actually is a big cut above even such an above-average group as engineers. He graduated at twenty, tribute to his drive and intelligence.

Maybe those factors are indicative of why he chose my daughter.

Of course there’s our first conversation on the subject: “Mister Alan, I didn’t CHOOSE Terri. It’s almost like one day I saw her as inevitable. She kinda says that...”

I’ve been told that I and my compatriots at 3Sigma were, to a man, ‘targeted’ by females who knew what, or rather who, they wanted before us guys really understood.

That sort of thing sets us up for this weekend.

“Dad, we’re going to meet with Jerry’s parents,” she announced to me and Tina.

“Are you two ready for that?” Tina asked.

Terri’s eyebrow arched. “Are YOU ready for it?”

“Inevitable,” I sighed. “Sooner or later...”

“Dad, they raised a good boy. You know that...”

“I see the result. But look at Cindy...”

“I know. Cindy overcame. But Jerry’s talked. Nothing bad about his mom and dad. We MET them at his graduation. Nice people.”

“You already met them, then...” Tina stated. “I remember...”

“Yes, but we didn’t exactly announce our impending nuptials then,” my precocious daughter stated.

“So how’s all this work? This weekend?”

“Leave early Saturday morning. Meet ‘em after lunch. Dinner as a family. Come home on Sunday.”

“Should’ve known you had a plan.”

“This is serious stuff, Dad...”

“You’re telling ME this? I’m getting ready to go meet my daughter’s future in-laws. Damned straight it’s serious.”

“Baby,” Tina said soothingly.

By this time, Kathy had toddled over to help. “Daddy. Tewwi ‘n’ Jewwy ... Fam’ly too.”

“See?!?” Terri smirked. “Even Kathy knows...”

“I know, too, sweetie,” I said. “We’ll do it.”

“Of course we will,” Tina asserted. “With poise and grace and good nature, just like YOU.”

That’s not the only thing going on that’s shaking the foundations of my world, though.

Cindy wants an airplane. After she presented the numbers, the case for a new Pilatus PC-12 makes just enough sense that when you couple it with the obvious glee that she and a couple of other qualified pilots exhibit around the big bird (big being relative – it’s still a ‘light plane’ under the FAA’s 12,500 pound limit) I cannot stand in the way. Our old Songbird didn’t stay on the sales block long before we were filling out transfer and bills of sale.

Phone calls and emails flew back and forth for a couple of days, oddly combined with a professional photographer – well, okay, she’s a college student that freelances as a photographer – we’ve used her before. The pictures were of the Pilatus in front of the hangar with a bevy of redheads – Cindy, Johanna, Bridgette, little Stoney and Cindy’s little sister, Elise.

“Where’re we going with this, Cindy?” I asked.

Dan’s pixie grinned. “We’re operating on the assumption that if ONE redhead is good, then a covey of them is even better.”

The killer phone call took place in one of our little conference rooms with Bjorn Olafsen on one end, me, Dan 1.0, Johanna, Cindy and Stoney on the other.

“I am looking at your email, Alan,” Bjorn said. “Niece Johanna, you wish ANOTHER?”

“I love the one we have, but, well, let Cindy tell you...” She looked at me, perhaps thinking I might toy with the idea of protest. Not me. This is not the battlefield Alan Addison will die on.

“Mister Bjorn,” Cindy said, “we’re selling our Cessna 402C. It’s not going to be economical with us needing to comply with an airworthiness directive, and frankly, it is almost as expensive to operate as we determine the PC-12. We want another. Johanna and her family will naturally have use of either of them for their personal transport, but in order for us to support our business requirements, we need another.”

“I can push the Pilatus organization for a plane that is nearing completion,” Bjorn said. “I have already posed the question hypotetisk, uh, hy-po-thet-ick-ally to them. We need two million US dollars to do this. The balance to be remitted upon delivery.”

Giggling, Cindy said, “Delivery to be taken at the factory in Switzerland...”

I saw Dan blanch. Apparently this is an unexpected move. You’d think that after being around this little thing for five years, he’d be used to this. She saw it, too, smiled sweetly. Okay, he’s done. Titanic has struck the iceberg.

Now let’s see how Bjorn reacts. “That is not needed. They are flown to Colorado...”

Now we see that Johanna’s already on board with Cindy. Must be something to do with red hair. Johanna spoke. “Cindy and I are both rated. Cindy has a commercial license, IFR qualification, over a thousand hours total time, and, Cindy?”

“Sixty-one in the Pilatus, real hours, not counting simulator time.” She smiled. “And that number’s going up every week.”

“But transatlantic...” Bjorn said.

Me? I am watching the tussle.

“Somebody flies them here,” Cindy asserted. “Why not us? Longest leg of the trip is, uh, 676 nautical miles. I’ve done that and then some in a Citation jet, at night, with weather at both ends.”

“It is over water,” Bjorn said.

“We won’t get our feet wet,” Johanna told him.

“You two ladies intrigue me. I offer to fly with you on the first over-water leg, Scotland to Iceland...”

Poor Bjorn. Taken down by two redheads.

“Wick to Keflavik. Or Reykjavik. We’ll talk...” Cindy said. “You fly with us.”

“Precisely,” Bjorn said, salvaging a bit of status. “As an instructor pilot.”

“We would welcome you, sir,” Cindy said soothingly.

“Mister Bjorn, we would like to include our husbands...” Johanna inserted.

Another twitch from Dan, mirrored by Stoney. TWO torpedoed ships.

Bjorn sighed. “And that redheaded son of yours? Uncle Jan’s heir?”

“Naturally, sir,” Johanna told him. “We’re thinking of the group flying into Norway, spending time with Uncle Jan, meeting you...”

“Of course,” Cindy said. “And then flying down to Switzerland...”

“Let me make some telephone calls,” Bjorn said.

Finally I got a word in. “Bjorn, I will email you our legal arrangements for the fund transfer.” I was lucky to get that part in.

“Yes, Alan. And Cindy, you said that the new aircraft registration number is to be...

Cindy smirked at me. “Zero seven tango sierra.”

“So it shall be, if possible,” Bjorn told her. “My friends, is there anything further?”

“I don’t think so, sir,” I said.

“Then good day. We shall be in touch soon.” And the phone clicked.

“When was I supposed to find out that my wife is flying across the Atlantic?” Dan managed to say.

“Yeah,” mirrored Stoney. He looked at the two redheads. “I suspect collusion.”

“Baby,” Cindy said, “you said we needed passports. I think this is a good enough time to use them, okay?” And a little sad, wistful look in those green eyes.

The guy has ZERO defense against that. Of course, I’m one to talk ... Tina’s done that to me, and so has Terri, and I swear that Kathy’s working on it, like she needs any help manipulating me, as it is.

“Besides,” she continued, “I have exactly TWO commercial airline trips. This will be an adventure in both directions.”

“And, baby,” Johanna said to HER slave, “we get to present our friends to Uncle Jan.”

“I give up,” I said.

“Oh, welcome to the Dark Side,” Stoney said.

“Yeah,” Cindy giggled. “We got cookies!”

Due to time zone differences, that exchange took place early in the day, leaving me the remainder to go about the business of 3Sigma’s engineering division. I realize that one of the bullet points on my wish list is to actually DO some engineering. Still, if you’re gonna double as a bean counter, then it’s really nice to have a LOT of beans to count.

End of the day, it’s a ‘dinner at the pavilion’ day.

We were seated, me, Tina, Dan 1.0, Cindy, at a table. Jason had just gotten up, following Susan who was chasing an increasingly mobile JW through the room.

Tina giggled, broaching the subject. “Another Pilatus. I guess I need to step my game up, Cindy.”

“Any time you’re ready,” Cindy said. “If you can get Kathy to sit still.”

“Maybe I can leave ‘er with Mimi for a lesson.”

“I’d really recommend that school in Orlando,” Cindy said. Her eyes flashed, then, “And ask your husband to buy YOU a new one.”

I almost choked. “Dammit, Dan, you just HAD to show up in Charlotte. Look at all the trouble you caused.”

“Alan, it went back a little earlier. Honestly, I was just looking for a cool dip in the pool. Alabama heat, after all.”

“Do you think we should put in a pool, here?”

“Hell, no. Look at all the trouble the first one caused.”

“Oh, lighten up. We said we were putting a pool in when we designed the place,” Tina pointed out. “It’s time. It’d be ready for late spring, and as far as trouble, Dan’s not the ONLY one to get in trouble around a pool. Ask Tim. Besides, Cindy’ll let me fly hers any time I want...”