Chapter 12

Alan’s turn:

“Cindy, dammit! You and Don are killin’ me.”

“Just think of the fly-by for YOUR funeral,” I said. “FOUR PC-12’s and a PC-24.”

“Cin,” he sighed. “Four? We had a nebulous case for three...”

She sighed dramatically. “One, it’s a great deal. We’re helping out friends...”

“That you just juked out of seven hundred thousand dollars...”

“Haggling. He makes some, we get a deal. Second, if you and Anders and Beck think it’s that bad an idea, I’ll strip my own bank accounts. Third, and again, if it’s a bad idea, we can resell it for a solid profit. But right now, we’re flying Lenya back home because Haley and I want to spend a little cuddle time with our husbands, and if we had the plane AND the pilot, we’d leave ‘er here on the ramp and save a round trip.”

My turn to sigh. I looked at Dan 1.0. “Why didn’t you tie a cinder block on ‘er and dump ‘er back into that swimming pool?”

He laughed. “Huh? My brain shut down when she said ‘cuddle time’.”

“I quit,” I said. “We’re transferring the funds. That banker friend of Jack Haggarty’s been dying to get a piece of us. We’ll have the rest...”

She still squeals. Dammit! And then she giggles. Dan’s over there, smirking.

“Timeline, Cindy,” I said.

“Three weeks. A week after me ‘n’ Dan fly Heidi home.”

Dan had to ask. “What’s the name of this one?”

She giggled again. “Hanna. And guess who I’m talking to about getting qualified.”

“Greg’s gonna beat me to death.”

“He’ll have a partner,” she laughed. “Haley’s going for her commercial on her eighteenth birthday, and in a week or two, she’s gonna have a fresh instrument ticket.”

“Now my head hurts. Which plane’s moving to Louisiana?”

“Hanna, naturally.”

Now my head really hurts. I’m gonna need cuddle time myownself. I’ll get some from Kathy and the rest from Tina.

Terri’s turn:

I’m flattered, in a way. I’m the youngest married female in the group, married the day after my fourteenth birthday. And now I find myself in the position of matrons over the ages, giving marital advice to a soon-to-be bride.

“Yes, seriously,” Vicki affirmed. “I want YOUR side of the story.”

“Did you talk to Kim?”

“Of course. Kim was a little older, though. And a little bigger.”

“What about Cindy?”

“Her, too. But it’s been YEARS ago for Cindy. You have fresh data.”

“Uh, yeah, okay,” I said. “Tina says ‘Tab A – Slot B’. That pretty much sums it up.”

“Don’t get clinical on me, Terri.”

“Jerkin’ my sister’s chain, just a little bit,” I said. “Seriously, you love the guy, right?”

“I do.”

“And he loves you?”

“He does. He could be up to his eyebrows in college babes...”

“You ARE a college babe.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I had dreams about Jerry,” I said. “You?”

Smile, a demure one. “And fantasies...”

“Yeah, those, too.”

“But yet you worry...”

“I’ve never DONE anything like that, Terri.”

“Oh, and like I was a pre-teen slut?”

“You know that’s not what I mean...”

“Relax.”

“What if I do stuff wrong?”

“The guy loves you. I’ve been told by wives before me that love and enthusiasm will make up for lack of real skill in early encounters, and that you listen to each other and don’t be afraid to offer guidance, verbal, a little push, nudge, wiggle...”

“You did that?”

“Oh, yeah...” I closed my eyes, let a memory play for a bit, then “ ... believe me, HE is going to be thinking that same thing, and he wants YOU to be happy with it all. So tell ‘im. And listen to ‘im.”

“Saturday...”

“It was wonderful, Vic. I was scared, right until we closed the door behind us. After that ... remember, YOU are what HE dreams about, too...”

“I know ... Tab A -Slot B, though.”

“People have been having sex forever. There’s nothing to the basic mechanics. I’m sure you’ve already sort of tried a couple of likely positions, just perfect for power hugs, right?”

“I thought I was gonna lose my mind, Terri. I wanted to reach down there and grab that thing and rip the clothes off it...”

“And now you’re all bashful and apprehensive?”

“Yeah...”

“You’re not having sex, you’re making love, and you’re gonna have a guy who wants YOU to be as happy as he is.”

“But do you know ... things?”

“You want me to be graphic?!?” I squeaked.

She looked sideways at me.

“I will NOT. Kara said that God didn’t create man and woman and then draw dotted lines all over ‘em so they couldn’t do things. It’s ALL good. Oral? Good. Positions? Good. Cuddling. Good. Going to sleep in each other’s arms, all sticky from ... Good.” I smiled. “As graphic as I’m gonna get.”

“Oooo-kayyyyy”

“Where’s he at, anyway?”

“Doin’ a math worksheet.”

“You know, one of the reasons that the boy works so hard is that he wants to impress you.”

“He told me that.”

“Man’s gotta really love a girl to do math for ‘er.”

Vicki’s smile started back into place. “He’s so happy when he gets things right.”

“And that, dear little sister, is why he’ll be happy Saturday, okay?”

“Thank you, sister o’mine.”

“We ARE sisters. Thick and thin and all that.”

“We are.”

“We have this conversation every couple of weeks, Vic.”

“I know. Tiny little corner of my mind keeps worrying.”

“You’re our team worrier,” I said. “Part of us that makes us so good. Y’all’ll be fine.”

Kimberly’s turn:

I never gave much thought to what would go on at my daughter’s wedding. I mean, I got married at sixteen and that wasn’t that many years ago at all.

I always expected to be at Vicki’s wedding. Step-daughter is only a title. She’s as much ‘daughter’ as if I’d delivered her from my own body. She’s also my friend and my little sister. I expected that in her late teens and early twenties she’d get married and her dad and I would be there, smiling, with the appropriate amount of motherly tears on my part.

All that’s true except that ‘late teens and early twenties’ part. Nope. Fourteen and a couple of weeks. To a college student.

Freaky part? She’s AHEAD of him. She’s a grad.

And the hits just keep coming. That’s a ‘Tim’ saying. He says that at one time people listened to favorite radio stations for the music in their daily lives, and some stations played ‘Top 40’ hits. I have trouble imagining that world.

The next ‘hit’? Double wedding today. My Vicki’s marrying one William Hardesty – her ‘Billy’ – and his sister Teresa’s marrying Don Matzke, the chief pilot and manager of the charter flight services branch of 3S Transport.

So the place is full. Rented chairs. The whole Community. The Hardesty clan. Judge Charlie and Mizz Helen, because Judge Charlie wrought legal magic for a fourteen-year-old to get married.

Several of Matzke’s pilots were there, too, a couple with wives, a couple with companions.

Music has been a duet from Cindy and her mom with accompaniment from Johanna’s flute and violins of Kara and Bert.

Two good-looking guys there – Billy Hardesty’s broad in the shoulders as befits his former athletic prowess. Don’s got that air of confidence that military pilots are noted for.

They’re standing up there, waiting. Processional. Teresa and MY Vicki walk in together, Teresa escorted by Elise, Vicki escorted by Kathy, the four of them in matching simple linen, the brides’ bodices embroidered, the effect evocative of bygone ages in cooler climes than the middle of Alabama, but that’s as fake as we got.

The Baptist preacher from Teresa’s home church is doing the service. Her dad and mom look like something from a 1960s family show. Tim and I, well, it’s US.

Two brides given away, joining two grooms. I could see beads of sweat on Billy’s brow and I’m thinking that never in my life have I given up something as precious as Vicki.

Tim and I retired to our seats and watched vows and rings being exchanged and yes, I cried tears, but they’re joyous tears because I know in the depths of my heart that Vicki’s made a determination like the one I made, and I see Billy Hardesty as an exemplary young man.

I glance over at Ann Hardesty and she’s dabbing a linen handkerchief at her own cheeks.

It’s over. Done. The two new couples are presented to the assembly and the celebration begun. It’s the Community’s celebration of family and life and there’s music and there’s food and family and friends.

I watched my husband dance a waltz with our daughter. I took a turn with my new son-in-law.

“You do realize, Billy Hardesty, that Vicki’s the most precious of our lives...”

“I do, Kim. I really do.”

“You do what it takes to make you two a family and you’ll be doing what it takes to make us all happy.”

“I come from a good family, Kim, and I will build one just like that.”

“You’re in for a wild ride, with that mind...”

“I know.”

Billy Hardesty’s turn:

“You’re in for a wild ride,” Vicki’s step-mom told me in the middle of a waltz.

I know. First, Kim added a clause – “with that mind”. And I recognize that Vick’s a good fifteen or twenty points up on me in raw IQ. She’s scary smart. Sometimes when we’re together I feel as much pet as partner.

At least that’s a very much beloved pet.

I look over at my new wife, short little thing, dancing with her dad. Perfection in a curious package., Hair just as perfectly simple as can be, crowned on her wedding day by a wreath of flowers. It sways and swirls as she moves, free, just like her agile mind.