Chapter 9

Haley’s turn:

I wouldn’t trade this past weekend for the world, but I am also very glad to be back home. When we pulled into the driveway, I got out, went over and said ‘hi’ to Mom and Steve and little Stevie.

Deenan did a similar move, calling her mom, announcing that she’d cheated death at the hands of a general aviation pilot.

“Mom, I never imagined that I’d get to travel like we just travelled,” I heard her say. “And I got to FLY an ultralight airplane all by myself. Mom, it was GLORIOUS!”

And I’m thinking that Bill’s gonna get hate mail from his ex.

There’s a package of tortillas in the fridge along with a couple of blocks of cheese and I’m thinking that quesadillas are the easy painless meal option that will keep us in the house for the evening. Deena’s looking over my shoulder.

“That’ll work fine,” she said. “Dad! Quesadillas okay?”

“Works for me,” Bill hollered back.

I started the kitchenry going while Deena and Bill took care of breaking down the luggage, stacking things for the laundry, putting things away.

After dinner, it’s shower time. THREE of us in the shower. I missed that.

Being naked together, it’s not about sex ... well, okay ... Deena and I have the task of washing our husband and a soapy hand on his balls and he gets hard and ... yes, sex is definitely part of it. I get the contrast – Bill’s hairy body, lathered up, versus Deena’s sleek skin ... sensory overload, especially if they sandwich me in. I like being sandwiched. It’s like a hug on steroids.

Stepped out of the shower, though...

“Tara’s getting married...”

“Tara?” Bill asked.

“Yeah. In Alabama. Marrying that Air Force major. Jewish wedding. Next Tuesday ... Kara said we need to experience a Community wedding...”

“When?”

“Next Tuesday.”

“Who gets married on a Tuesday?” Bill asked.

Deena darted her eyes at me. She knows part of the story.

“Tara and Aaron are Jewish. Tuesday is an auspicious day and March is an auspicious month, and this is the first Jewish wedding they’ve had. Kara is Jewish, but Bert’s not, so they were kind of ecumenical.”

“Auburn’s an eight hour drive,” Bill said.

“Or a two hour flight. I know somebody who’s got an airplane...”

“Dan says that thing’s six hundred bucks an hour to fly. Four hours’ air time, round trip...”

“We could leave right after work, spend the next day there for the wedding, then fly back the next morning.”

“That takes me out of the office for a day and a half.”

“Carlita and Brindy will want to go, too. You’re connected, honey ... We can get a break. Besides, YOU are the boss. You get to say...”

“Sweetie,” he sighed, “the reason I’m the boss is that I have the good sense NOT to say things like that...”

“Team. Family. Think of it as team-building,” I said. “You call Alan. I’ll call Cindy...”

He looked at me. “You’re serious.”

“Deena, am I serious?”

“She’s serious, baby.”

“I’ll call Alan.”

Ten minutes later we compared notes, mine and Deena’s from a phone call with Cindy, Bill’s with Alan.

“Well? Did he threaten to fire you? Chew you out for lack of dedication?”

“No, he said he totally understood and he also understood the pressures being brought to bear on me. What’d Cindy say?”

“Cindy says she’s calling Carlita and Brindy, and if they’re coming she’s bringing the Pilatus.”

“And we really need to poke Dave a little bit. They need to learn to fly, too.”

“I noticed that. He asked,” Bill said. “I explained costs. The procedures ... Told ‘im that Cindy was the corporate flight instructor.”

Let’s see. Dinner’s over. Showers are over. Expecting nothing on email of any critical nature.

Bedtime. Playtime. Loving and squealing and growling and humming time.

I love my mates and I love being in my own home where we’re safe and secure and can love each other in every way.

A good night’s sleep, interrupted by the music of the alarm signaling the beginning of a new day. We’re up and active. Deena and I fix breakfast because Bill’s due at his office by eight and he likes to show up earlier than that.

Deena and I have the kitchen straight when it’s time to go terrorize our way around campus. I’m actually sitting in a class – history – because I want to sit in it. Deena’s doing the same with an English class. Seems like if you actually TAKE a class from a professor, they’re more receptive when you start talking about testing out of some of the others in his department.

Of course, regarding the subject matter as something you really are interested in, that makes a difference, too. History’s entertainment to me, especially since I don’t ‘need’ the credits.

Between classes, it’s time to call Cindy.

“Hey,” she says brightly. I can picture the face, smile and all. I envy her the red hair, but then my Bill always nuzzled my head and said, “Rich, wonderful, lovely brown. Like chocolate.”

“Hey yourself,” I said. “Thinking about the wedding...”

“EVERYBODY’S thinking about the wedding,” she laughed. “It’s gonna be an event.”

“We wanna be there...”

“Funny. I just got a call from Carlita saying the same thing.”

“Seriously? I hadn’t talked with her yet today.”

“Yeah, she called half an hour ago.”

“If only there was a way, like, pick us up after work Monday, bring us back on Wednesday morning...”

“Yeah,” she giggled. “If only someone had access to some contrivance with that capability. Any ideas?”

“Can you swing that? We talked about how much it costs,” I said.

She giggled. “Carlita said the same thing. I’ll make it happen. Neat thing about Lotte is that she’ll go, rain or shine. I’m instrument rated and I’ve got the perfect platform and I’m up for it. We got six seats. Big argument is who’s gonna be in front. I’m thinking that Dan needs it.”

“We’re trying to be responsible, but everybody said that weddings are THE thing there...”

“We’ve had a few,” Cindy said. “Every one’s been memorable. This one’s gonna be a bit different. The couple’s Jewish and we thought it good to get their synagogue involved.”

“What do we wear?”

“I feel safe in telling you to dress for a wedding.”

“I’ll wear MY wedding dress. It’s identical to the one Deena wore to our wedding. We swear we didn’t compare notes. Just turned out that way.”

“That’ll work,” Cindy said. “I guess y’all will make hotel reservations?”

“Yep. We’ll do that.”

“Unless Deena decides to do a slumber party thing with the Munchkins – minus Derek, that is...”

“Yeah, Derek,” I said. “Thirteen and spoken for...”

“Can you IMAGINE?!?” Cindy tittered. “Soooo young...”

“Yeah, I knowwww...”

She laughed. “Darn! I wish you lived here...”

“I’d love that,” I said, “But my Bill’s here and Deena’s mom is NOT going to okay her daughter moving out of state...”

“Are they that close?”

“Yeah ... Really. Deena loves her mom. Wasn’t that hot on her stepdad, but she wants to stay close to her mom.”

“All kinds of variations on that theme,” Cindy said. “People’re messy...”

“They really are. Deena’s stable, though. She’s very happy here. We make a great little family group.”

“I wondered. We have Tina and Terri and Kim and Vicki, but they have a few more years between them, so it’s not too weird that big sister to Terri is sleeping with Alan or big sister to Vicki is sleeping with Tim. You two, though, two years?”

“A little less, actually.”

“But it works?”

“When I turned sixteen and announced my marriage, she got the word through the grapevine before I could call her. When I called, she said she heard I was getting married and she told me that if it wasn’t to her dad, she would be very mad. We were best friends by then, you know...”

“One size doesn’t fit all,” Cindy said. “Not when it comes to relationships. I think of how Carlita and Dave reacted to Brindy and his sister...”

“You know about that?”

“Some of it. Carlita came out and told me that she and Dave were married but it wasn’t that simple, that the only reason that Brindy’s name wasn’t on the marriage license with them was that there’s no legal avenue for that. Little thing practically came out and said that’s just the way they are and if we had a problem...”

“And nobody has a problem?” I asked. This is an interesting line of conversation.

“Not that I’ve heard. I certainly don’t. Nobody’s getting abused. Everybody’s getting loved and cared for...”

“Girl-girl,” I said. “Squicked a lot of people out.”

“Part of that ‘people are messy’ spectrum. Funny how girl-girl squicks out fewer people than guy-guy...”

“‘Guy-guy’ squicks ME out,” I admitted.

“It’s on the edge of my spectrum, too, but I know a few guys ... one couple, the rest are like butterflies...”

“Bumblebees,” I said. “Flying around pollinating anything they can stick the proboscis into...”

“Ewwwww!!” she squealed. “Now I’ll never be able to look at bumblebees again without THAT image, Haley...”

I giggled. “It’s just a service I provide.”

“Evil.” Giggle.

“My family loves me,” I tittered back.

“I’m sure they do,” she laughed.

“I’m sure you have YOUR own moments...”