Chapter 4

Haley’s turn:

Bill’s at work. Deena’s inside the FBO office with her laptop. Me? I’m walking around this airplane, getting ready for a flying lesson.

The instructor’s NOT watching me do this part. He’s seen me do it, asked a lot of questions. Knows I’m good with this part. I’m wrapping up the exercise when he’s walking up.

“Ready to go?” he asked.

“Looks good now. Dunno about after the lesson.”

Matt’s been pretty good at this. We’re flying a Cessna 172. It’s about as simple a four-seater as you can get. I’ve got the manual for it, I’ve got the student pilot study guide. And I’ve got Cindy on speed dial.

Yes, Bill’s way ahead of me, thirty-something hours to my seven, but I’m getting there. I’ve learned a lot about moving in three dimensions. A lot of people don’t realize that when your wheels leave the ground, you become part of the air, and the air moves. Everybody knows about wind. I become part of the wind. It’s neat. We’re going ninety knots. Knots? If you must, multiply knots times one point one five and you get miles per hour, but the little airplane’s airspeed indicator is in knots, so it’s easier just to think in knots.

So I’m going ninety knots and I’m headed parallel to a road that runs east and west, and I’m going west at a thousand feet. Easy, right? It is. But remember, I’m in the air, and we have a wind from the south at ten knots. That means that in addition to me going ninety knots in the direction my nose is pointing, I’m also going ten knots sideways to the north. That road I was parallel with? It’s getting further and further away.

“Vectors,” Cindy says. “They’re theoretical in math and geometry and trig. Now you’re seeing them at work in real life.”

Matt’s a little more straightforward. “Crab angle. You point your nose just a little bit into the wind and counteract the direction it’s pushing you.”

“Calculable values,” I said.

“Yeah, you can think of it that way, but honestly, what we’re doing right here a thousand feet above ground is getting you used to dealing with this for your operations in the traffic pattern. Closer to the ground, the wind tends to be a bit more variable in speed. Changes a bit. So eyeball and work with it.”

“Gotcha,” I said.

So that’s a dynamic, ever-changing environment. I’m flying down the road, my nose pointed a few degrees south of due west, and that road stays the same distance away. That was Step One.

Then he has me flying a rectangle. The roads out here in the country are arranged in a one-mile grid, so I can fly a mile west, a mile south, a mile east, then a mile north, and that pesky wind’s stayed in the same place, so with each change of direction, I have to sort of arrive at a new angle to account for it.

We flew out to the practice area today and he watched as I flew a couple of those rectangles.

“You seem to have a handle on this,” he said.

“I think so,” I said.

“Good! Now get us to four thousand feet.”

I pushed the throttle forward, running us up to full power, applied back pressure to the control yoke, and kept the nose up, holding seventy-five knots, watching the altimeter wind up. Four thousand feet. I levelled off, pulling back the throttle to get that ninety knots we used. Yes, we can go much faster, but ninety is a good number for training.

“Okay, let’s run through the stalls again, shall we?”

“Sure,” I said. “Which do you want first?”

“Plain ol’ power-off stall...”

And we went through the list.

“Now let’s go teach you how to land this thing.”

I think I squealed a little. Yes, I’d been following along each time that we’d landed after each lesson, and yes, I’d inquired of Cindy, but here I was, getting ready to LEARN.

Okay, when we finally tied the plane down on the flight line, I was a bit shaken.

“Not as easy as it looks,” I said.

“Oh, it is. You’re like a baby. Everybody you see is walking, so it’s gotta be easy, right? And right now your knees wobble and your butt’s sore from hitting the floor. So what? Wednesday?”

‘Yeah. Sounds good.”

I walked into the FBO office, signed the ticket for today’s abuse, collected Deena.

“You don’t look quite as excited as normal.”

“Yeah ... Landings. Sort of the aviation version of ‘put up or shut up’. Easy to see when your expectations don’t meet your abilities.”

She giggled. “Didn’t Dad say that?”

“And Cindy. And everybody else. Dunno why I thought I was different.”

“Optimism,” Deena laughed. “If you’re REALLY stressed, maybe I could help...”

Now, there’s a part of me that says “Haley, you’re kinda cheating Bill.” Another part of me says, “Gosh, Deena’s such a great lover ... she could really make me come good...” and there’s that part that argues with the first part and says, “Bill and Deena take advantage of some ‘alone time’ if I’m doing something and they’re home together” and we really ARE a family in three different directions and the thought of naked Deena and naked Haley does certainly appeal to me.

“One of those ‘lay back and let me do this’ sessions?”

She giggled. “We keep trying that. Only works on Dad.”

“Yeah,” I sighed. “Why’d you have to taste so good...”

Giggling and laughing, we drove home, and by the time we got there, my major stress was gone. We decided to save the exercises for stress relief until Bill got home to join us.

“Just feels better that way,” Deena said.

“Agreed.”

I think it’s a good idea. This ‘three-way marriage’ is too darned odd as it is, and it’s not exactly something you can sit down and talk to people about. I don’t think Mom would understand, for instance.

Come to think of it, I was surprised that Johanna didn’t puke and call us names. Brindy and Carlita and Dave, they come close to understanding, at least that three-cornered part.

I think that Deena’s long-term relationship with Bill kind of throws them a curve, though. Genetically speaking, we’re on firm ground, at least concerning the genetics of her and Bill, but then genetically speaking, Deena and I are half-sisters, so that’s a twist. The thing that twists hard, though, is that for fourteen years, Bill’s been ‘Daddy’ to Deena, and forgive me for pointing it out, that’s STILL what she calls him.

Even in bed.

“Habit,” she tells me. “I can’t break the habit.”

“It’s kinda kinky, don’t’cha think?”

She giggles. “I guess so ... But it comes so naturally ... He’s always been my daddy. He’s always wanted me to be happy, even when I was a bratty kid. And I wanted him to be happy with me. So...”

“Soooo ... Nothing...”

“Yeah, I know,” Deena said. “But Haley, I tried calling him ‘Bill’ and I just can’t ... sounds wrong...”

“Yeah, well, I’m getting used to it...”

“Dad doesn’t mind,” Deena said.

“Gosh, I know that,” I said. I saw it with my own eyes, the way his dick jumps when he’s in her and she moans ‘Daddy’. My Bill. Got a kink, he does.

Of course, my sister’s not stupid about it. One evening I had Bill deep inside me. Deena was gently playing with the junction of the two of us with one hand, whispering, kissing, encouraging. She whispered “Make my Haley come, Daddy...”

We BOTH smacked together in orgasmic bliss. Deena kissed each of us. “This is what makes us married,” she said softly. “It’ll forever be the three of us.”

I really DO want it like that, but for instance, THIS is Deena’s weekend to stay at her mom’s. that’s an ‘every other week’ thing, just like when she was living at her mom’s and ‘every other week’ she was MY friend.

I guess it’s my time to be a little bit selfish. I know her mom’s going all out to make the weekend special the same way Bill used to do when it was the other way around. That makes another situation. Me and Bill, we’ll have the place to ourselves. Me and Bill. Nobody but each other, as it was from my fourteenth birthday until Deena moved in.

Sometimes I really miss those times. I guess it’s my selfish streak. But it’s all very confusing, because those nights that Bill has to be gone, I really enjoy having Deena all to myself, too.

Brindy says that it would all be so neat if we could just put living and loving into these neat little boxes.

“I get those feelings, too, you know,” she told me. “When me and Pat and Lita were together talking about it, I imagined never again getting to have MY lover to myself.”

“I get ‘im to myself. I get her to myself,” I admitted. We were in an off-campus eatery, sipping coffee. “So why ain’t I happy?”

“You ARE happy. ‘Happy’ is when you’re getting your needs met and you’re meeting others’ needs. It’s NEVER gonna be perfect.”

“Just very good, I guess...”

“Yeah. Haley, I told you that having two partners in your marriage was gonna be kinda strange.”

“I remember you saying that.”

She stared at me. “Marriage is a mature thing, little sister. So many people aren’t ready for it. Mom never was. You have to make the determination that it’s something YOU want and you’re willing to work for. And sometimes ‘working’ means you’re going to have to suborn your feelings just a little bit. Sometimes it’s about giving, not taking...”

“How’d you get so mature?” I asked.

“I’ve had feelings too, you know. So’s everybody in MY family. We’ve even talked about it together.”

“That really is being open about it,” I said.

“Just remember, Haley – ‘one size fits all’ is a big lie, especially when it comes to feelings. You say you relish time by yourself with each of your partners. Did it occur that they may have the same feelings?”

“I know they do...”

“It’s something you can understand. Can you LIVE with this uneasiness you get?”

“I sorta have to, don’t I?” I said.

“People walk away from things all the time, Haley.”

“I can’t do that. I love ‘em both. I really do.”

“I’ve heard some tragic stories – people break up great relationships over stupid stuff.”