Chapter 2

Bill’s turn:

“Carl, the email beat you back here.”

“It was a good catch. Nothing special, if you’ve got your head in the game. Sunny saw it, too,” he stated. “She’s a seriously good tech, and I’m only a tiny bit prejudiced.”

I had to smile. The boy’s in love, and with good reason. She’s a cutie. I pictured myself with Haley and Deena on a project.

“Tell you what, we haven’t talked with Haley and the bunch about this. How about putting together a slide-show and let’s do a little class...”

“I think that’s a good idea. And not just because you’re the boss, either.”

I laughed. Carl’s a good one. This is evidence, as is the phone call. “You send me back those two for the next one...”

“I might let her do the presentation.”

“Careful, buddy. If she sees what you’re getting ready to do, you might be hard put to stop ‘er.”

“Oh, it’s not like that,” he smirked. “She’s one of those submissive Oriental women you hear about.”

I could hear her laughing with the girls. “Yeah, right...” I said. “If I have my data right, you were bopping along thinking ‘cutie’ and ‘it’d be nice’ and she’d already run the calculations, assembled the data, identified the target and...”

“Or we were both ‘wouldn’t it be nice’ until Shiva blew up her alternator.”

“I’ve heard rumors about Shiva...” I said. “Seriously, though? She didn’t come off as the bashful type.”

“Not as a technician. But on a personal level...”

“I’m glad for you both,” I said.

“Thank you.”

Let’s see. Dan 3.0’s out, Nina with him, looking at upgrades to the protection of a forty year old substation in southeast Texas. It’s an easy drive, they’ll be back this evening. I think Sandy’s got a date anyway. Matt’s days off don’t coincide with weekends very often, so when he has an evening free, Sandy jumps. Or doesn’t jump, maybe, but definitely doesn’t miss an opportunity.

Nor does he. The same chopped up days off mean he’s liable to show up at our airfield for a visit if the weather looks flyable. I know. He’s getting me into the regimen to pursue my instrument rating, quite the feat when our ‘instrument platform’ is the old Cessna 152 with round ‘steam gage’ instruments and a single nav-comm radio.

“Here’s the panel for the 185s we’ll be getting,” I said.

He looked over the screen. “Not bad. A step up. Dual nav-comms. ADF. GPS. Glide slope. We can get you there a little faster with one of these.”

“By the end of January, I’ve been guaranteed. Maybe sooner.”

“Uh, get Cindy to fly one down here and sign me off for tail-draggers...”

“Sandy’s got one up on you, huh?”

“Sandy’s ... Well...”

“This ain’t one of those weird ‘teacher-student’ things, is it?”

“Better NOT be...” Nina’s voice. She’s standing in the door.

“Noooo, not nearly,” Matt defended.

“Come in and sit down,” I said.

“I don’t wanna interrupt...”

“Not interrupting.”

“So what are you doing with my daughter?” Nina asked.

“I’m being perfectly honorable,” Matt said. “She’s pretty, she’s smart, well-mannered, despite the questionable influence of her home life...”

“Touché’!” I said.

“We tried to raise her awareness of predatory males,” Nina replied, not flinching one iota.

“You two play nice,” I refereed. I noted that Nina’s eyes spoke a different message than her snarky mouth.

“I’m trying very hard to be acceptable, Nina,” Matt said. “My pants fit, I know more multi-syllable words than motherf ... I have a vocabulary. I have multiple career options, one of which I’m working now. So if I formally request to date Sandy...”

She smirked. “Dazzling credentials, Matt. And since you already dated Sandy, you’re a bit late.”

“Just sorta grew,” he retorted. “And since she’s eighteen...”

“Approval of the parents, in many circles, is a death knell for a relationship.”

“Sandy’s not one of those,” he said.

“Are you serious?” Nina questioned.

“Serious enough to hang around a nice girl and find out if SHE’S serious...”

“You need to tell her dad that...”

Matt smiled. “I’m sure that you will, and I suspect that Sandy already has...”

“You’re right. Just remember, Sandy’s my little sister, my daughter, and my friend, so you hurt ‘er, I have to take three times as long, killing you...”

“Ouch!”

“Right...”

I’m watching this, knowing that both these people are my friends, and they’re merging a couple of households together, or at least stepping in that direction.

“You know you’re welcome at the house any time. It’s easier since we moved out here.”

“Thank you,” Matt said. “I appreciate that. Sandy’s a good one...”

“I’d prefer that, after a bit of getting to know each other, she is THE one. If it’s right for her and right for you. People aren’t toys.”

“And I never treated Sandy like one,” Matt said. “I’m just as vulnerable here as she is, being as how I’ve got an actual conscience and all...”

“Okay, kids, play nice,” I said again. Actually, I think they’re just jousting.

She looked at me, then Matt. “Y’all want some coffee? I got some good stuff. Making a fresh pot.”

“Sure,” I said, echoed by Matt’s “if you please”.

She got up and left.

“She’s something,” Matt said. “And so’s her daughter.”

“You and me, we’re friends, Matt,” I said, “but do wrong to that woman’s daughter, well...”

“Never will. Kinda ... uh ... guys don’t say things like ‘love the girl’. And I like what she’s into with this bunch.”

“And Sandy knows this?”

“Sandy knows this.”

“Buddy, you’re in for a ride.”

“I mentally accept that premise,” he answered, “although I have no experience with the terminal experience.”

“Seriously?”

“Oh, yeah,” he said. “Good girl. As in ‘the goodies are off the table until marriage, just like my step-mom’, so I had a choice. Future rewards and all that...”

“Coffee’s up,” came a disembodied voice up the hall.

“C’mon, almost son-in-law,” I said. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

Haley’s turn:

Happened that me and Deena both were home this afternoon. Deena’s on her period, so THAT’s off the table, at least until the three of us get into the shower. That’s Deena’s limit, no sex during menstruation, except that in the shower she will submit to fingering.

Me? No such limit, ever since the first time I jumped poor Bill. Hey, it washes off, okay?

We’re talking about relationships around us. Some people would say ‘gossip’, but we’re not trying to put anybody down. It’s just that...

“Vicki’s the next one,” Deena said.

“Bill Hardesty...” I started.

“Bill 3.0,” Deena giggled. “Cindy’s step-dad is 1.0, OUR Bill is 2.0. 3.0’s a hunk...”

“You’re...”

“Oh, no way, dear,” she said. “Like art appreciation, that’s all. He’s – they – have a bigger size discrepancy than you ‘n Dad.”

“I’ve always accommodated your dad quite well,” I said.

“Mmmmmm. Yeah, I’m a perv. I like seeing him inside you. Hot...”

I giggled. “YOU just like seein’ it do anything.”

“And you DON’T?”

“Oh, I definitely DO,” I mused.

“Dammit, Haley! You’re making me...”

“Sorry. We were talking about Vicki.”

“You know what this means,” she said.

“No, what?”

“It means, if Vicki gets married, that I will be the only single one...”

“That’s true,” I said. “So...”

“So people will question. You know – ‘when’s Deena going to find... ‘“

“And we can’t just pop up and say ‘Deena found hers two years ago’, can we?”

“No, because then it’s ‘Who?’ and when you say ‘him’ and point at Bill, it’s a big unknown with a good chance of negative outcome.”

“C’mere,” I said. “You need a cuddle...” WE ARE sisters, after all. “We’ll survive this. We’re going to be too entrenched, for all the GOOD reasons.”

“I dunno, Haley. If people think Dad’s fucking his daughter, if they think I’m fucking my dad, that’s a pretty big hurdle.”

I held her in my arms. Yeah, okay, she’s bigger than me, so it looks strange, but a cuddle is a cuddle.

“Nobody’s FUCKING anybody. We mate. We make love. We share physical pleasures. We add a dimension to the other kinds of love we already have.”

“I know ... But others won’t understand ... We’re all married...”

“I know that, sis.” Even as I said the words I recognized the absurdities in our lives – the change from lover to wife, from friend to half-sister, from half-sister to lover, and yes, we did have a marriage. I’d fight for it.

“C’mon,” I said. “Dress warm. Let’s go for a ride.”

“Why not?” she said.

Twenty minutes later we had the Stearman out in the sun, preflighting her, pulling the prop through a couple of revolutions, then...

I love the way she sounds when she starts.

A little north breeze means we taxi down the length of the runway to the south end, do our run-up, then track to the centerline.

“You or me?” I ask over the intercom.

“Me.”

“Call the neighbors.”

“‘Kay.” Heard the click in my headset, then “Regional Tower, Stearman eight six five four tango at Dukes, taking off north, headed to the practice area.”

“Stearman five four tango, roger. No known traffic.”

“Five four tango, roger, g’day.”

She fed the throttle forward, let the tail come up on its own, and seven hundred feet down the runway the bumps stopped when the wheels left the ground.