Chapter 19

Dana’s turn:

Gramma’s old, you know. She’s in great health for her years, but some of her contemporaries are less so.

So I get a phone call. “Hi, Gramma. What’s up?”

“Not good things, Dana,” she said. “Lettie Svendsen passed away last night back home.”

“Oh, gosh. I’m so sorry...”

“Not so much a surprise, baby,” she said. “Eighty-two, all manner of issues. Her family was at her bedside. I just got a call ... We taught in the same school for twenty years. Kept in touch, played bridge...”

“You need to go to the service,” I said, knowing what she needed.

“I don’t know how such a thing...”

“Oh, c’mon, Gramma. We got wings. I can fly you myself ... Me ‘n’ Ed ... Choices. Just pack your bag, let me work out details.”

“Is there a way I can extend the stay a couple of days? I’ve been meaning to visit a few people.”

“Uh-huh. And Nikki wants to visit the Louisiana bunch. So, me, you, Ed, Nikki, baby, and maybe Dan 2.0. We passed up our Cessna 185. Let me start looking at Pilatus...”

“Oh, those are too expensive,” Gramma blurted.

“Cindy doesn’t think so. Let me see what’s available, and who can be the pilot.”

“Thank you, dear.”

“I’ll be there standing beside you, Gramma,” I said. “I’ll call you back.”

Next call – Cindy. Life’s approaching normal for her again after her accident. She was in her Stearman the day her cast came off. I know she’s been up in her Cessna getting currency requirements met for her instrument rating’s requirements.

“Hello, Dana,” was the first thing she said. “Tell me something good.”

“Well, kinda sad, actually, but we need some help.”

“Spillit, sister!”

I related the story.

“Yeah, Nikki said she wanted to go,” Cindy said. “Stoney or Jo could fly, but if Jo flies, little Stoney’s gonna be there.”

“If Nikki goes with us, it’s her and Dan and the baby. Me and Gramma. Ed. That’s six. A pilot...”

“And her spouse,” Cindy added. “Lemme talk with Dan. I assume tomorrow?”

“Yes.”

“Make sure everybody’s bags are packed.”

That’s part of the magic of this place. There’re lots of parts. Several of us have roots in South Louisiana, Gramma being one, Cindy’s Dan is another, as are Nikki and her Dan, so a trip back there is never a bad thing. Add to that the office and airfield we have there, and you get the excuse to fly a bunch of us down there in a company plane.

‘Company plane’? Yeah, that’s the public face of it. We all know that they’re really Cindy’s toys, okay. Happily, she lets all of us play with ‘em. If you go to our corporate website and click on “Extracurricular Activities” you get pictures of our aviation-related activities, among other things.

And I’m co-pilot on the trip there. Nikki’s going to take that seat on the way back, Cindy being an instructor and working on Nikki’s currency requirements for flying.

By the time we’re at the airfield in mid-afternoon, Gramma’s got a window to meet with a couple of her former students, one being a lawyer, the other being the judge that signed the waivers and married Dan 2.0 and Nikki, who was underage at the time. Sounds like fun.

Cindy’s got her schedule blocked in to work with all the college students at our Louisiana office. Let’s see, there’s Deena and Haley and Carlita and Brindy and Camila and so I’m told, a new one, Abby, product of the recent turmoil in Deena’s life. Cindy’s tracking progress towards degrees. I think there’ll be a bunch before the end of this year.

It’s a lovely two hours from wheels up in Auburn to wheels down in southwest Louisiana. I really did pay attention to the flying. Cindy’s after me to get ALL the ratings. That’s a commercial license and instrument rating. We don’t own a multi-engine aircraft, unless you count the Bizjets in the charter hangar up in Birmingham.

“You might wanna think about the multi rating, though,” Cindy told me. “Just never know...”

It’s funny. I’m seventeen, married over two years, possessor of a baccalaureate degree in engineering, a private pilot’s license, and here’s Cindy pushing me into more challenges.

So we figured out how to spread out for the night. Dan 1.0 and Cindy elected to stay with Dave and Carlita (and Brindy and Mila).

“You DO know...” I’d started with Cindy when I found out.

“Yeah, I do know. They get to decide what a family is, what a marriage is, for them. I’m sure that decorum and propriety will be observed.”

“I guess,” I said. “I know that if Ed tried...”

“Honey,” Cindy laughed at me, “Ed walks around with his eyes glazed over half the time.”

“Yeah, okay,” I said. “Like Dan doesn’t...”

“Not since a long time ago in a trailer park far, far away...”

Everybody knows about the ‘marriage’ in Carlita’s home. Somebody mentioned open marriages. Discussion followed, deciding that it might be expanded, but it certainly wasn’t ‘open’. They just love each other, that’s all.

I’m sure that the idea would’ve really gotten to some people, but if Cindy’s okay with it, then that’s good enough for me. I know more than enough about unhealthy relationships after watching Mom’s lifestyle, and that’s definitely NOT happening with Carlita’s bunch.

Gramma and I and Ed got a two-bedroom suite at a really nice hotel in town. She went to work immediately after settling in, calling old friends, and making arrangements.

“I’m going to do my own thing, Dana,” she said. “You and Ed, you two may have the evening to yourselves.”

Which made it easy. Back to the airfield and the office, where a fete was being assembled on short notice, food, socializing, that sort of thing. Attendance wasn’t mandatory, but seriously, where else would we want to be?

The funeral of Gramma’s friend was to be the following afternoon. The next morning, she went with me and Nikki to see one of her former students, now a judge.

“Of course this is a social call,” she told me. “I remember him as a student. In that class I had two students who left high school to study law. I correspond with both of them on occasion, as I do with some of my other students.”

“Gramma, I always said that you are making a difference in people’s lives. I want to do that.”

“You will, dear, in your own way.”

Gathering up Nikki and Dan 2.0, we visited Judge Lanford. The guy’s a gentleman, as befits one of Gramma’s students. She was a young teacher when he was in her class, and it pleased me to hear him recount stories of their time. He praised Nikki for her doctorate.

“I knew there was an edge to you, young lady,” he said. “When Ernie told me about you, he said there was something intangible.”

“Dana’s another one, sir,” Nikki replied. I blushed.

Small talk was interrupted when the door of his office was filled by another man.

“Mizz Leland Sommers,” he said. “It pleases me to see you.”

Gramma arched an eyebrow. “I don’t remember you ever saying that in high school, Andre’,” she stated. “Dana, this is Andre’ Thibodeaux. Andre’, my great-granddaughter Dana. Her husband Ed, Doctor Nikki Granger and her husband Dan.”

“You’re part of that bunch at the little airfield,” Andre’ stated. “Quite a bunch.”

“We try,” Dana said.

“I’m gonna have to pay attention to all y’all,” Andre’ said.

More conversation. Apparently Andre’ was somewhat of the class clown.

“I knew he was bored,” Gramma said. “I tolerated most of it, because he was also brilliant.”

“Iconoclastic,” the judge said. “Back then. Still is.”

We left the judge with his promise to visit the airfield, counterbalanced with OUR promise to be there when he did.

We went back to our hotel and changed clothes. I will accompany my Gramma for this. We arrived at the funeral home, both clad appropriately. I stayed by Gramma’s side as she met with one old friend after another.

By late afternoon it was over. Yes, I accompanied her to a small tea with her friends. She’s my Gramma, a bright star in my life, and she deserves attention and respect.

Conversation did get around to husbands – mine and Gramma’s, both. My baccalaureate in engineering tempered a lot of ‘you’re so young’ comments. Gramma’s “He’s in Chicago at a symposium for prosecuting attorneys” told the story of why he wasn’t here. Talk of errant children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren among the group got me a soft pat on the shoulder.

In the evening we ended up with Ed, meeting with a bunch of the gang at a popular (and good!) restaurant. Tomorrow’s a travel day.

I did get a chance to see Deena. The community is still aghast at what happened to her, but she’s a survivor and her assailant is nursing a torn scrotum and has criminal charges coming down. She’s mostly positive, but “I have some moments, you know,” she told me. “You just don’t expect people to act like that in a civilized society. We’re not talking about inner city or trailer trash, Dana. The guy’s parents are upper-echelon.”

“Spoilt little rich kid,” I sighed.

“Wasn’t little, though. He coulda had me pinned if he wasn’t so cocky.” She exhaled. “Every now and then it gets to me and I have to get hugs and good words from Haley and Dad.”

“Are you okay?”

She touched her nose. “Still bruised...”

“I mean...”

“Thank you. I am, mostly. But it shakes me, Dana. I mean, I didn’t DO anything to bring that on, at least I think I didn’t. But I’ve replayed it a thousand times and I can’t come up with anything at all, but still...”

“Gosh, Deena ... I’m sorry, but I don’t know what to tell you. I mean, have you talked with Susan? Or Johanna? Both of them went through something like it...”

“I didn’t know that...”