Chapter 5

Summer didn’t simmer. It seemed more like a mild Spring. Daddy took his insurance settlement and had the sunroom mirrored and localized air installed. There was no reason to use the detachable awning slash umbrella for the patio table. Since the watch so happily ticking away in the post hole was never a problem ... it wasn’t found as immediately as it would have been had the pocket been blocked.

“Daddy, I want to fly. My friends at the airport have recreational licenses. Do you care if I take lessons?”

“Go ahead ... I think the family plane might need an overhaul, though.”

“We have a plane?”

“Yes, Wendy. Your mother was a pilot for the Air Transport Auxiliary flying out of White Waltham in Berkshire. Due to the shortsightedness of the Army Air Corps command she left the US and flew ferry missions during the War.”

“I know she died during my birth.”

“I resented you for years.” Daddy said... “but medicine advances in the mid sixties showed me it wasn’t your fault. After three miscarriages, the doctors Had warned us ... NO Children. It had something to do with the way she flew ... upside down and very high. She never received credit for her six encounters with the Luftwaffe ... none of her fellow pilots did. “Women ... girls even Never flew combat” ... so saith the High Command, they said it ... it must be so. After June 1944, the ladies delivered aircraft across the Channel to France. Dangerous times.”

“Fascinating, Daddy,” Wendy said. “Do you still miss her?”

“I did until you turned 16.” He smiled. “I remember you barged into my study and said, ‘I’m going to be a lawyer ... just like you. Dad.’ That opened my eyes.”

“How so?”

“You were as stubborn as she was,” he said. “When the doctors pronounced she was bound and determined to prove them wrong.” He chuckled, “They were right.”

By the time Daddy had graduated from wheelchair to a cane Wendy had her PPL (Private Pilots license) with an IFR tacked on. She didn’t learn on the family plane. She learned on a J-3 Cub while the family aircraft was being evaluated and rebuilt.

The family plane was a 5 seat Beechcraft G17S Staggerwing with the FS engine package.

While most Staggerwings plodded along on as little as 225 horsepower, the FS option was a Wright SR-1820 nine cylinder radial of 710 hp ... this baby could scoot. Supercharged, it’s altitude rating exceeded 26 thousand feet.

Wendy turned 25 while Daddy’s civil suit against the drunk driver was reaching a conclusion. Since she was a passenger she spent long hours on the stand while the drunks attorneys tried to refute her claims. David had to be subpoenaed and testified that not only was she in the car ... she had to be rescued.

The reunion was bittersweet.

David was a Daddy. Karen proved to be prolific. Three sets of twins in three years ... all girls. The three year olds were cute ... the babies were babies. The middle pair were in the terrible twos.

“Thanks for having me, Wendy.” David said. “I really needed to get out of the house.”

“Snip Snip?” asked Wendy.

“Next Wednesday ... I have nothing to prove,” David said. But he cringed and dropped his hand to a covering position anyway.

“Karen is in rehearsal, Bobby and the Silver Spur is going on tour next summer. I hope she hates it.

“But enough about me ... how about you?”

“Still single ... not looking. The firm is doing well, I think. Daddy does too. I’m buying a house.”

David’s eyebrows raised.

“I won the fucking lottery. I have to do something with it. A house seemed like the best option,” Wendy paused, “I can’t say for positive ... but it’s looking like I’m going to be awarded half of the suit. It was his fourth DUI and no license or insurance.

“Some peoples kids.”

“I know what you mean.”

He leaned over and whispered, “Do you know anything about a couple of pickups found in the burning mine?”

She blushed.