Chapter 12

Haley’s turn:

So I’m supposed to meet Carlita at Starbucks. That’s a laugh. It’s convenient to the campus, usually filled with students, but we can usually get a little table to talk. What we talk about is the clientele, quite often.

Wanna get hit on? Show up at that Starbucks and sit there with your MacBook open. If you’re with your sister or your female friend, that’s no impediment.

I get there first, so I grab a table. I’ve got my computer open when I hear “There she is” in that lilt of an accent, and I look up to see Carlita wending her way to me, accompanied by a blonde girl about five and half feet tall. Blues eyes, dammit. No dark roots, so it’s probably natural, dammit again. Dressed conservatively – jeans, nice blouse. Carrying a backpack over her shoulder.

I stand up and wave, and the two of them meet me. Carlita gets a hug, naturally, and I make a motion to ... Oh, she’s a hugger, too.

Carlita said, “Haley, this is Sandy Gleason. Sandy, Haley Simon.”

“Hi,” we both said simultaneously.

“We’re gonna leave our stuff here and get something to drink.”

Sandy’s eyes twinkled as she looked around, then she said rather loudly, “So we don’t sit in a place of business leeching spaces and not buying anything...”

I saw a couple of guys look up, annoyed. ‘Truth shouldn’t hurt unless it oughta’ is my motto. I snickered, went back to my MacBook, at least that’s the appearance I wanted to give. I watched Sandy and Carlita at the counter, then each of them returned with an iced coffee.

Sandy sat down.

“So what’s your major?” I asked.

“I wish I had a dollar for every time a guy asked me that,” she giggled.

“But I’m not tryin’ to pick you up,” I smiled. “So seriously...”

“Electrical engineering. It’s genetic, I guess. My dad. My step-mom...”

“I guess we just crossed paths,” I said. “I’m in it, too.”

“I’ve seen you. Wondered what you were doing. You look young...”

“Sixteen,” I said. “I kinda side-stepped a lot of classroom work. I show up if the professor points out something that I might find interesting...”

“Carlita explained that path to me. I didn’t know it was possible,” Sandy said.

“It is possible,” Carlita said with her lilt. “I have encouraged Sandy to push a bit.”

“Sandy,” I said, “we got a weird thing going in college. “Work, too...”

“Lita was explaining. Your husband and her husband? Same company?”

“That’s it,” I said. “Engineering. Project management. Field services. You said your step-mom and your dad...”

“Dad’s a plant engineer.” She named his employer. “They’ve been through two buy-outs and restructurings and he’s not particularly happy with it.”

“And her step-mom works at an engineering house.”

“Junior staff engineer,” Sandy said. “More paperwork than real engineering. I’m beginning to question my own path.”

“You gotta make that decision for yourself.”

“I did. I saw Dad happy. I saw how excited Nina was ... Now...”

I sighed. “I guess I understand, but Bill says even the best position has a certain amount of drudgery. He complains.”

“So does Dave,” Carlita reinforced. “Part of the recipe. Fillers.”

“Tell ‘em to give us a call...” I said.

“Us?” Sandy questioned.

“Oh, well, me ‘n’ Carlita aren’t actually on the payroll, but this 3Sigma thing’s not your standard company, either.”

“Sounds like it.”

“Worse’n that,” I continued. “Did Carlita tell you why we won’t be here tomorrow?”

Carlita smiled. Sandy said, “Something about a wedding in Alabama? Company plane ride?”

“Yep,” I said. “That kind of people. And it’s NOT just the business thing. It’s a ‘people’ thing, and we’re family, me ‘n’ Lita, and this is what they do. Education is what they do.”

“I’m talking with Dad and Nina,” Sandy said.

“Y’know, we could all get together for dinner. Like maybe Friday?”

Carlita smiled. “Restaurant? Or do Brindy and I cook?”

“I’m HURT!” I feigned. “I can cook, too...”

“Look, you two. Dad can cook. Move this to Saturday, make it at MY house, and we’ll have barbecue...”

I laughed. “You’re tossing your dad under the bus...”

“Oh, he LIKES it,” Sandy laughed. “And he does GOOD barbecue...”

“Uh, 3Sigma’s talking about a gumbo cookoff for next Christmas break,” I said. “Maybe we need a barbecue contest.”

“Just decide what you wanna lose. Dad’s gonna win.” She smirked. “Dad’s serious about his cooking.”

“So you got a good home life, then?”

“Idyllic,” she said. “At least as far as Dad and Nina. She sorta scooped me into ‘little sister’ status. It worked well for us.”

‘Apparently it does, given the right participants,” I said. “Lita, how much have you told her about the Auburn bunch?”

“As much as I know,” Lita said.

“The Munchkins? Tina ‘n’ Terri? Kim ‘n’ Vicki? They fall right into that ‘big sister/stepmom’ frame.”

“Actually a bit closer in age, I think,” Carlita said. “But it’s working for them.”

“I gotta meet these people,” Sandy said.

I grinned. “Have I got a deal for YOU. How adventurous are you?”

“Uh ... depends on the nature of the adventure...”

“Five hundred mile round trip in a light airplane, two nights in glorious Auburn, Alabama, a Jewish wedding...”

Carlita’s eyes flashed. “Cindy’s plane has eight seats. There are seven of us, plus Cindy. You’re correct. Sandy?”

“A wedding?”

“Yep. Need a nice dress. What’re your dad and Nina gonna say?”

“They trust me.”

“Call ‘em.”

Sandy’s iPhone hit the table, on speaker. “Dad...”

“Hey, sweetie. Middle of the day. Gotta be important.”

“It is, Dad. You love me, huh?”

“You’re still my precious little girl...”

“Awwww...” I said.

He caught it. “On speaker?”

“Yes, Daddy ... My friends Haley and Carlita. Between classes. You trust my judgment, don’t you, Daddy?”

“Uhhh ... never had a reason to question, so where’s this heading?”

“Dad,” she said, her voice’s timbre shifting noticeably. “I have an opportunity to take a two-night trip to Alabama and meet some people. 3Sigma Engineering people.”

“I know the name,” he said.

“Our husbands have the local office,” Carlita inserted.

“You have a LOCAL office?”

“Couple of months now,” I said. “And we’re flying to Auburn, Alabama for a social event. We wanna bring Sandy, if it’s okay...”

“Sandy’s eighteen...”

“Daddy,” she said, reverting back to ‘little girl’ mode, “I don’t do ANYTHING without your approval...”

“You’re sure this is a good idea?”

“It’s a good idea. And Dad?”

“Yes?”

“Lay on the fixin’s for a barbecue Saturday. Us and six guests.”

“I’m sure you’ll explain this to me in detail when I get off work, right?”

“Yeah, and I’ll call Nina and tell ‘er. Text ‘er and let her call me back...”

He sighed. “Okay, Sandy. Remember your upbringing.”

“Always, Dad. I love you.”

“I love you too, sweetness.”

The call dropped. “There!” she said. “I guess I need to go pack.”

“Yeah,” I said. “I can follow you ... Deena’s got us all ready to go.”

“Deena?” Sandy asked.

“Haley’s stepdaughter. The other student I spoke about,” Carlita said.

“Oh, okay. Yeah, here’s the address. I’m parked in the north student lot.”

“Me, too,” I said.

“What about Deena?”

“By the time you get your stuff, she’ll be ready to meet us on campus for a ride home.”

“So I get to see YOUR house, too,” Sandy said.

“And we ALL meet at the airport, then,” Carlita finished.

I was a bit taken aback. “Just like that, they’re okay with you taking off like this – drop of a hat?”

Sandy smiled. “I know it sounds weird, but I DON’T do stuff like this but once in a great while. I’m almost nineteen, I’ve never been in trouble, never let them down. They think I’m a good bet.”

“Still, you tell ‘em you’re flying off for two nights...”

“Haley,” she said, almost like she was explaining things to a child, “We’re college girls. Our contemporaries take off for Spring Break for a week of drugs and debauchery on a beach somewhere. Me, taking off with Carlita, who they’ve met, NOT the same.”

“I guess, when you put it THAT way...”

We scattered. I followed Sandy to her house, a nice comfortable looking home in an older neighborhood, solidly middle-class. Followed her inside.

“This is IT. The family edifice,” she said. “Not too shabby at all.”

“Looks like people care about how they live.”

“We do. I can bring friends over. Dad and Nina have company here often. Lemme get my stuff together...”

Her bedroom was neat in the same fashion as the rest of the house. She tossed clothing into a hard suitcase, carefully putting a nice dress atop a divider to keep it from wrinkling, packed a pair of matching shoes and a little makeup bag.

“Neat little bag...”

“Travel supplies. Hairbrush. My favorite shampoo and conditioner. Some perfume. That’s it. I don’t do makeup.”

“You don’t NEED makeup,” I told her.

“Thank you. You don’t either. Natural...”

“Got a husband that hates makeup, too. Never said he needed bigger eyes or redder lips or what-not.”

“Dad’s got a picture of Nina with the tips of her hair bleached blonde. Her foray into rebellion, she says. First time I met ‘er, she was normal.”

I laughed. “Sandy, look around campus. Blonde tips hardly edge into abnormal any more.”

“Yeah, and that was when Nina was just about to turn eighteen. I think that when she zeroed in on Dad, she sort of changed to fit the image she wanted to portray.”

We ended up at our house, waiting for Bill. Deena and I gave Sandy the tour. I’m glad that we have a habit of making the bed before we leave in the morning. Three body prints in that king-sized bed would’ve given our marriage away.

As soon as Bill showed up, we were on the road to the airport.

“Dad says he knows you,” Sandy told Bill.