Chapter 14

Haley’s turn:

I was almost looking forward to sparring with Lance about testing through a mid-level engineering course but Deena got to ‘im first. As in, I walked into his office, he threw his hands up, said, “Thursday, one PM. You and that evil blonde thing you run around with...”

“It’s that easy?”

“Ain’t supposed to be, but Deena says you two...”

“Seriously, Lance, we read the book. We quizzed each other...”

The guy actually SIGHED. “I stand in front of a class for a semester, lecturing, quizzing, asking questions, answering questions, and at the end I’ve lost half the students I had on the first day and some of those I have left won’t pass. And you and Deena sit at home and quiz each other?”

“It works for us. ‘Sides, my husband’s an engineer, and I can call or Skype a dozen others, including a couple of PhDs. You don’t have to spend time worrying about us. You got a full plate with the others.”

“I appreciate you caring for my stresses, Haley. I just need to convince myself that you’re not scamming me...”

I smiled. Dude’s ego needs stroking. Egos, I can do. Ain’t stroking anything else, though. “We’re working with some of your students that ask for help,” I said. “You got yourself a reputation as being tough. We got a reputation for being able to help people survive you.”

“I heard about you helping. Tell me, what’s the big hurdles?”

“Other than some people REALLY should be studying Chaucer instead?”

He snickered. “Dammit, Haley! You’re doin’ it again.”

“Whaa-aat?” I said, switching to my ‘little girl’ voice.

“Making me laugh in the face of reality.”

“Sometimes it’s the best we can do,” I said.

“Go on with your bad self,” he laughed. “You’re not one I’m losing sleep over.”

“I shall retire to my study,” I said in stilted tones. “Thanks!”

Outside the office I texted Deena a single question mark.

Got a reply. “Oak grove. Carlita’s tamales.”

That’s a perk of our vibrant diversity, at least our version of it. Carlita’s tamales are a worthy prize for an on-campus lunch, and of course the food is but a tiny part of the three or four of us in the shade of a live oak, talking about living.

“Okay, this weekend we have Saturday at Sandy’s,” Brindy said. “If the weather’s nice, then next weekend is a boat weekend for us.”

“Boat weekend?”

Carlita smiled. “I guess I failed. Dave’s boat...”

“Dave has a boat?” Deena asked.

“Yes, but...” Carlita started.

“It’s a sailboat. If you’re wanting to charge about the lake and up the river, this is not the boat to do it.”

“How big?” I asked. “I mean, SIX of us...”

“Nine if we invite Sandy and her family...”

“That is something we should do,” Carlita said. “I think that we should add Sandy to our group. And we’re all about family, so her dad and her step-mom...”

“Where IS Sandy?” Deana asked.

Sandy’s voice. “Looking for MY tamale, y’all.”

“Boat weekend,” Brindy said.

“What kind of boat? We do kayaks...”

“Really?” Brindy said.

“We do. Ever since we were a family. What kind of boat?”

“We have a Nonsuch 38. Big ol’ sailboat. Big ol’ SLOW...” Brindy started.

“ ... Sedate. Stately,” Carlita inserted.

Sandy laughed, “As long as I don’t have to paddle it. Where’s my tamale?”

Carlita passed her a green, banana-leaf-wrapped tamale. “Hope you like it. It’s not your regular tamale.”

Sandy giggled. “I don’t see anybody on the ground writhing in pain...”

“It’s a slowwww poison,” Brindy smiled. “First, your waistline expands...”

“Stop that,” Carlita said. “You’re beautiful and these are GOOD tamales.”

“I’m thinking that maybe we need to paddle the boat...”

“You cannot paddle Tracy,” Carlita said.

“We could. I read...” Brindy asserted.

“Would it be easier just to bring kayaks?” Sandy said. “Carry ‘em. Pull ‘em behind. Something...”

“I’m intrigued. Boats. Sailboats. And flying. Deena, you got something on interstellar travel?”

I realized when I said it that if SHE popped out with a discussion we’d had in the middle of satiated, sticky aftermath a few weeks ago, she’d reveal something about our relationship that I didn’t think was ready to be exposed to Sandy.

“Not yet,” Deena said. Her eyes cut towards me, so I KNOW what she’s thinking. “The five of us. That’s our goal, right?”

“It’s the FIVE of us?” Sandy said.

“Of course it is,” I replied. “A few words in the right ears, you get to stop slogging along with the herd, you break free, and you SOAR...”

“I dunno if I’m READY to soar,” Sandy said. “You people have real wings...”

“But they’re gentle wings,” I said. “Almost like a butterfly’s...”

“Uh-huh,” Deena inserted. “That guy flew that old biplane into OUR new field. Cindy can’t WAIT to see it. That’s not a butterfly. That thing’s so ugly that the ground hates it, that’s why it flies...”

“It’s a beautiful piece of aeronautical history,” I retorted.

“It’s an ugly ol’ piece of farm equipment,” Deena stated.

“It flies,” I returned. “So ... Butterfly.”

“If that thing’s a butterfly, then a sledgehammer’s a surgical instrument,” Deena countered.

“Guys,” Carlita said. “It’s an airplane...”

“And we’re gonna get another airplane,” Brindy said. “They’re looking at a trainer. We can ALL use a trainer.”

“‘Cept me,” Sandy said.

“I’ll get you the books,” I giggled. “You just as well give up...”

“Yeah, YOU should talk,” I told Brindy and Carlita. Neither of you have had your FIRST lesson.”

“Waiting on Cindy,” Brindy said. “Cindy, Queen of the Skies.”

“Okay,” I conceded, “but don’t put it off too long.”

And I’m thinking, after THAT flurry of conversation, exactly HOW did Haley Buckley Simon become an aviation person?

Five girls sitting in a circle under a shade tree on a college campus, that’s sure to attract – predators...

Happily, the first guy who showed up is a known quantity, a fellow engineering student.

“Ladies,” he said to get our attention.

“Bradley,” Brindy acknowledged him.

“What’s the topic of conversation?”

“We’re taking a break from academics,” Deena said.

“Understand. Wisht I could,” he replied. “That 314 course is eatin’ me up...”

“PLCs,” Deena said. “We’re gonna test out of it next week.”

“Oh, sure...” he sighed, verging on a whine. “Fourteen year old girl’s gonna test out of a course that’s eating my lunch...”

“You’re working too hard,” Deena said. “You’re getting all worried about hardware. It’s really SOFTWARE. Get past what goes in and what goes out. It’s JUST Boolean. This AND that OR this other thing equals an output.”

“I wish somebody’d SHOW me.”

Deena giggled. “As long as this ain’t some cheesy ‘college guy’ pickup line...”

“Oh, come on, Deena. I’m a college guy. I need HELP.”

“For what? Picking up chicks?”

He sighed. “That, too. But I need ACADEMIC help...”

“That, we can do,” I told him. “We need to get you to our lab one day when we’re not in class. Bring your thinking cap.”

“And be advised,” Deena said, “My dad works there and he’s ever so protective ... Not to mention that I’m only fourteen...”

He laughed. “Worth going to jail over...”

“Why thank you!” Deena giggled. “Seriously. We have equipment for you to play with, we have some extra course material from outside. You can get over this one...”

“Have a tamale,” Carlita said. “Life is better...”

He eyed the green packet offered to him.

“It’s a Guatemalan tamale. Banana leaf wrapper.”

“Won’t poison you,” Brindy helped. “We don’t offer ‘em to just anybody...”

I need to tell you that Dan Gleason is one HELL of a barbecue guy. He said ‘pitmaster’ but he doesn’t have a pit. He distilled the essence of open-pit barbecue to a stainless steel enclosure with an industrial temperature control system. I looked at the thing.

“Work in progress,” he explained. “I analyzed the factors that go into some of that stuff you get in Texas, tried to replicate it in this environment. I’m getting there.”

“You’re THERE,” Bill said. “At least until I get enough Texas stuff to argue otherwise.”

Brisket – beef brisket – is the quintessential Texas barbecue meat, and that Dan – I guess if he comes on board, he’ll be Dan 3.0 – does it GOOD. He tossed some ribs into the mix, just for fun. And flavor. Bill has this thing he does with ribs in the oven. They’re good. I love my Bill, but God help me, Dan Gleason beats his ribs.

“Sandy’s happy she ran into y’all,” Nina said. “I know she’s rolling right through the coursework, but if she can accelerate...”

“Accelerate,” Dan 3.0 (Okay, we’ll just do it THAT way. Cindy’s Dan is 1.0, Nikki’s Dan is 2.0, and I’m wondering why we have so darned many Dans) said. “I took FOUR years. Fought. Kicked. Screamed...”

Nina giggled. Oh, god, SHE’S a giggler, too. I never had to resort to a giggle to tag my Bill, but some of these girls, that giggle just drops every defense a guy might have.

“You would’ve had an easier time if you hadn’t wasted so much time chasing women.”

“Girls,” Dan retorted. “I chased college girls...”

“And expended much intellectual energy in the effort,” Nina laughed. And you caught one...”

Sandy’s turn. “I’m glad he did, you know. Otherwise I’d be this set of thoughts floating somewhere out in the universe, looking for a place to land.”

“There is that,” Nina conceded. “Still...”

“You’re right,” Dan said.

“Don’t let ‘em get to you,” Bill offered. “It’s part of a lot of people’s college experience.”

I snickered. “Yeah, and Deena’s the result of YOUR college experience, right?”

“I love you, Daddy,” Deena simpered for effect. “I’m glad you let your hormones override good sense.”

“Seemed like good sense at the time,” Bill replied. “Like nobody’s ever said THAT before.”

I parroted Bill’s statement from early in our relationship. “Our history makes us what we are today.” I eyed him. “What do you want to change now? We’re a family, you, me, Deena.”

“See, Dad,” Sandy said. “Family.”

“Extended family,” Brindy said. “That bunch in Alabama is one big family that sort of grew together.”