Chapter 46

Later in the spring, I got a call from Mary Beth McBride, Fred Hodges’s executive secretary at Executive Aviation. It seemed like it was time for the company’s annual spring bash, and we were all invited to attend.

While I had her on the phone, I asked about the laser treatment on her eyes and about the Female Fitness machine.

“The eye thing worked perfectly,” she said. Then her voice dropped to a confidential tone as she added, “I see what you meant when you asked about my virtue. That machine is ... something else! And it really works.”

“Which means... ?”

“Which means that the picnic is going to be the great unveiling of Mary Beth McBride ... In more ways than one.”

“And what does that mean?”

“That means a couple of things: I’m still five feet eight, of course, but now I weigh 123. And even though my eyes have been fixed, I got a new set of clear lenses for my old glasses and I’m still wearing them.” She paused and added, “You sent me the very latest and greatest unit Female Fitness makes, didn’t you?”

“Well, my mother is the regional distributor for them, and I certainly didn’t want you to have an old model. But why do you ask?”

“Because my model apparently is so new it doesn’t even have the correct instructions.” Then she giggled — what a merry little sound that was! — and added, “My instructions have a whole section about what to do about the white mark on your bottom from exercising with the UV lights on while sitting on the saddle. But my saddle is apparently transparent to UV. I’m as tanned there as everywhere else.” Another giggle. “I just wonder how far up the tanning goes?

“Oh! One more thing: Have the sales of those machines taken off like a big-assed bird over the last couple of weeks?”

I didn’t know the answer to that one, and said so. “What brought up that question?”

“The first issue of Mrs. hit the newsstands is why I asked. Aside from being almost totally devoted to Kimberly Kramer, to say the very least it prominently features the Female Fitness machines. I don’t know how many pages of advertising they have in it, but it’s a bunch.

“And the juxtaposition of Kim and her incredible body along with ten children ... Unbelievable! And she designed all the machines herself.”

Hmm ... Very interesting.

I told her we would all plan to attend and then checked with Mom. When I asked her about the machines, she just laughed. Just the day before, she had received a call from Kim grumbling about all of the overtime required to get the damned things out the door. Furthermore, we learned, Kimberly had extended the use of Tami Baker’s marvelous plastic and was then fabricating the machines substituting her plastic for steel. It was then I learned that over time, what had originally been four machines had been combined into a single unit.

“Yes,” Mother replied, “sales have really taken off. And, my dear son, so has the stock of Aerospace Technologies. Since the company and individuals own all the stock of Female Fitness, the only way one can get a piece of it is to buy AT. And heaven knows, there’s very little of that traded either.

“And those new materials... ? Incredible!”

Anyway, it was quite a crowd that ended up going over to the state park in New Jersey where Executive Aviation was having its gathering. There were Kris and me along with Billy, as well as Little Bit and Ann. I wasn’t sure, but as things turned out they were representing Female Fitness.

When we reached the area where Executive Aviation people were gathered, I was surprised to see a woman in a rather strange get-up. Aside from a scarf over her head, she was wearing what appeared to be a garment from the earliest days of the automobile called a duster. It came well below her knees. Furthermore, it was a very warm late-spring day, so she must have been hot as hell. But we went over to her when I realized she was talking to Fred Hodges, the CEO.

We came up to him and he first noticed Kris. (That was no surprise.) “Jean Dawson! What brings you out here? But welcome! I’m so glad you could come. But where’s Jim?”

Kris just grinned and replied, “I’m Kristin, Jean’s baby sister.” She grimaced and added, “Yeah, sure ... I’m six stinking minutes younger than she is, but she never lets me forget it.”

Before anything more could be said, a pair of hands circled around Kris’s face and a female voice whispered, “Boo!”

“Speak of the devil!” Kris exclaimed. “With those dishpan hands on my face, it could only be my sister, Jeannie.”

And it was.

For a few minutes, it was really old home week. Jean was there along with Jim and baby Jamey. The girls, Sandy and Susan, were staying at home with the Callaways. We learned that Roy Neill, the vice-president-sales, had sent a plane out to pick up Bill and Janice Page, the couple who had piloted Jean, Jim and the girls on their selling trip for Tiffany’s, along with their infant son, Billy. And since they were being flown back to Chicago the next day, they invited the Dawsons to come out with them.

At that point, someone blew a whistle and announced the beginning of the athletic events. While attention was focused on the new arrivals, I was standing beside Mary Beth McBride. She whispered to me, “I mentioned that today was the great unveiling? Well, here goes!”

With that she whipped off her scarf, dropped the duster and the Coke-bottle glasses and ran off toward the gathering contestants. She was incredible! Earlier I had asked why the duster and she said it was because of her Irish heritage; she claimed to have very fair skin and burned easily. But that was not the case at all! Rather, she was deeply tanned all over, and since she was only wearing Levi’s short shorts and a shirt with the sleeves torn off and with the tails tied under her tits, there was a vast amount of beautiful body exposed. And her figure was perfect: really in Kris’s class. Furthermore, her brown hair was sun-streaked, too. It almost duplicated Kimberly Kane’s since, like hers, it was in an urchin cut.

I guess Mary Beth’s running off attracted Fred’s attention. “Good grief! Who was that?”

As casually as I could, I replied, “Oh ... That’s your secretary, Mary Beth McBride. Good grief, man! Don’t tell me you don’t even recognize your own executive secretary!”

At that point, Kris was behind him. She grinned at me, winked, and made a thumbs-up sign. Then she and her sister, Jean, went off in the direction of the athletic competitions.

Surprise, surprise! My nursing wife took everything in sight. The surprise, though, was the intense competition between Mary Beth McBride and Jean Dawson. In spite of being Kris’s sister and an outstanding swimmer — the Dawsons shared a 50-meter pool with the Callaways — she didn’t have the varied athletic experience her twin did.

I mostly sat, watched, and heckled.

When the competitions ended, the three came back and joined us. All three were sweat-soaked, but all three were utterly beautiful. Fred Hodges couldn’t take his eyes off Mary Beth; the woman was a knock-out. And with her sopping-wet shirt — or what passed for one — it was clear that she wasn’t wearing a bra. Notwithstanding, her tits were up-thrusting and self-supporting.

I asked her about her athletic ability.

Mary Beth laughed and said, “When you grow up as the youngest in a family of five, and the older four are boys, if you want to live, you become athletic.” She giggled and added, “You know, I guess I was almost ten before my brothers realized that I was different from them. I was just one of the guys.”

“So you have four older brothers?”

“Only three, now,” she said sadly as tears came to her eyes. “My youngest brother, Tommy, was a captain in the New York Fire Department. He was in the World Trade Center when it came down.”

I couldn’t think of a single thing to say. Finally, I asked, “Your other brothers?”

“They’re all overseas. Two are in the Army and one in the Navy.”

I filed that information away in my newly-developed mental information retrieval system.

Then it was time for the Miss Executive Aviation contest. To this day, I don’t really understand how the damned thing was run. I do know it was restricted to single female employees of the company. (Mary Beth very cutely stuck out the tip of her tongue when she told Kris and Jeannie that they weren’t eligible to compete, nor were Little Bit and Ann.) At any rate, somehow or other, there had been an elimination so only eight girls were on the elevated stage for the final judging.

At that point, I really got a shock. I had previously confirmed what I had suspected: Mary Beth was a very private person. But then I saw her conferring with the other seven contestants and used my new long-range hearing ability. She was asking the others if they would be willing to be topless for the judging ... if the spectators could raise $5,000. She told the others that she would like to contribute it to a Fireman’s Relief fund to benefit the widows and orphans of firefighters killed on September 11.

It was fascinating to observe and monitor. Several of the girls enthusiastically agreed — the ones with an exhibitionist streak, I supposed — while a couple were obviously scared.

“Do you really think these cheapies will come up with five grand?” one of the enthusiastic ones asked. “No money, no stripping. What do you say?”

The holdouts agreed.

Mary Beth went to the microphone. “Folks,” she began, “if you really want to see what we’ve got, you can. But it will cost you.” She went on to announce that all the contestants would compete topless ... if $5,000 could be immediately raised. She added that the money would be going to the families of firefighters who had been killed in the World Trade Center.

I had been a bit skeptical, but then I realized that we had scores of aircrews, and they’re not low paid. I don’t know if it was the prospect of seeing some young lovelies topless, the prospect of aiding deserving families, or both, but the money was quickly raised. People were literally standing in line with money in their hands.

As soon as all the money had been counted, the girls took off their tops. A couple of the girls — the shy ones, I think — were wearing bras, but Mary Beth told them that when they were supposed to take off their tops, it meant everything on top.

But that wasn’t the end of the surprises. With all of the girls topless, they took turns walking along the front of the platform and posing for the spectators. When that was finished, one of the shy girls went to Mary Beth and whispered.

You know something? That hearing function is really something else! I could hear the girl as clearly as if she had been whispering in my ear. And what she was whispering came as a real shock. “How about if we go all the way? Maybe for $10,000? It could be equally divided among the Army, Navy, Air Force and Marine Relief funds.” Then she continued, “They’re really great, too. They have no administrative or fund-raising expenses; 100 cents out of every dollar goes to needy families. What do you think, Mary Beth?”

“I think it sounds great, Jan. But where did the idea come from?”

The girl paused and then said softly, “My brother is over in Kuwait right now. And I thought...”

Mary Beth McBride kissed the girl and told her, “I have three brothers in the general vicinity, too.” Then she moved away from the girl and said, “But are you sure you could stand being completely bare?” She paused and then continued, “Honestly, just a few months ago I just flat out could not have done it. But I’ve been working out naked for months now and have become accustomed to it. But what about you?”

“I ... I ... I’m pretty sure I can do it,” Jan replied. “After all, what am I risking? It’s not cold or anything. My life isn’t going to be on the line like those guys are, so...”

Mary Beth went to the front of the platform and made an announcement after first having talked with all of the other contestants. The fact that Jan had suggested being naked had eliminated any dissent.

“Folks, a few years ago on TV there were shows called T&As. For those benighted souls who may not be aware, T&A stands for tits and ass,” Mary Beth began. “Well, you all have gotten a good look at our tits, but what about our asses? And other private parts? If you folks can come up with another $10,000, we’ll compete in the beauty contest stark naked! Any interest?”

You know what? That might have been the fastest fund-raising in history. I was prepared to cover any shortfall, but there was none. Rather, with a great deal of currency still on the table uncounted, they had soared over $15,000.

At that point the girls on the platform withdrew “backstage,” i.e., they went down the steps on the back of it and conferred. While they were doing that, I took the opportunity to use my satellite cellphone to make a couple of calls. What I was doing was arranging for Henry and Penny Watts Hall to fly out to New York on Tuesday and stay for the balance of the week. And after talking with Penny, I called a spa in New York that was so damned exclusive it didn’t even have a listed telephone number.

That was sort of funny, too, I guess. It seems that just being able to call them — knowing their telephone number — was a sufficient recommendation. But when I mentioned Penny’s name, that put the icing on the cake. And with charges for their deluxe treatment running about $5,000 per person for a day, they were delighted to schedule for Tuesday.

Kristin had been with her sister, Jean, all that time. But when I disconnected, she held up her hand and formed a circle with her thumb and forefinger signifying agreement with what I had done. Only later did I learn that we had apparently received a “software upgrade” from wherever. What we had picked up was something similar to the “mommy filter” only it worked between husband and wife. Each knew exactly what the other was doing all the time. Hmm...

By then, though, the girls had started to come back on the platform, one at a time. It was on the platform that the girls took off the rest of their clothing and then paraded back and forth in front of the group to provide them with the best possible look. I was intrigued to see the girl, Jan, who earlier had been so concerned, proudly take off her clothes and really strut her stuff. She was a real beauty, too. At the end of each girl’s appearance, there was applause that was measured by a borrowed applause meter. What was fascinating was that’s all there was, just applause. There were no screams, catcalls, nor — particularly — any obscene remarks.

Fred Hodges was standing beside me, and as the fifth girl appeared — the first four had formed a line at the back of the platform — something finally registered. “Fred,” I asked, “it’s pretty warm today — as forecast — and there’s a beauty contest. How come none of the girls is wearing a bathing suit?”

He just shook his head. “I guess the simple answer is that the beauty contest today is an all-time first. We never had one before. I can only conclude that it’s just something Mary Beth dreamed up today.”

“Mary Beth? Does she have the authority to do a thing like that?”

Fred just laughed. “Cam, that’s really funny. (Believe it or not, I had finally browbeaten Fred into calling me by my first name!) Mary Beth McBride, without any doubt, is the most powerful person in the company. What she says, goes! And that’s the end of it.”