Chapter 26

Madison and Kathy met in the hallway outside their rooms at 5:00 A.M. "You look sharp, Kathy," Bill said as he eyed his copilot. "Ready to go see the mooses or meeses, or whatever they're called?" he teased.

"I think the plural is moose. But I once heard an English instructor argue that it had to be meese. But saying something like, "there's a herd of meese, reminds me of a flock of geese. But I like your version better," Kathy laughed, feeling relaxed, refreshed and in a great mood. After all, I'm going to be with the man I love today, again, and we don't have to fly a plane or be with other people. Of course, I can't kiss him, or do anything else I want to with him because he's married, but...

Looking down at herself, she said, "Shorts — not new — a blouse I've had for years, and sneakers, but I appreciate the complement. You don't look bad yourself, Captain."

Smiling, they turned down the hallway, then realized there was a foldout sign usually used to warn of a wet floor sitting in front of them. This one had a note attached that said:

Kathy and Bill. Stop by the kitchen before you leave.

Kathy took the note off while Bill folded the sign and set it against the wall.

"What do you suppose?" Kathy said.

"Hah. With this bunch, it could be anything. They didn't sign it. If Mr. Wainwright had wanted us, he would just have dialed our rooms. It must be something from the Matthews."

Curiosity bothering them, they hurried to the kitchen. In the center of the smaller of the kitchen tables were two chests with a note on top of one that read simply:

Enjoy

When Bill opened the ice chest, he said, "It's full of ice and a whole variety of soft drinks. And the ice hasn't been in the cooler long."

Kathy opened the other chest. "Oh, my," she said. "There's a lot of food in here. There's fried chicken that's still warm, and about anything else you could think of to go with it on a picnic."

Madison picked up the Escalade's keys lying by the cooler.

Looking at Madison, Kathy said, "Oh, Bill, it's only five now. Someone had to get up early to do all this."

"It was probably, Diana," Bill said pulling out a drumstick.

"Wait. What are you doing? We were going to stop for breakfast. This is for a picnic lunch. And it could have been any of them. Even any, or all of those girls, for that matter. They work in this kitchen just like Diana and Laura. Then again, it could have been Margaret. She made a big deal out of us hurrying to take the Matthews to Georgia."

Bill laughed, taking another big bite. When he could talk again, he said, "Well, let's not leave anybody out. It could have been Evie. She's sweet as she can be, and she's always teasing. It would be a great joke to do this and to not tell anybody."

"Boy. Great detectives we make," Kathy said, taking out a piece of chicken and closing the lid. "We could always ask Fred. He could probably figure it out instantly," she teased.

"Not a chance," Madison joked. "He'd want to eat too much of the chicken to check it out." Eyeing the piece of chicken in her hand, he continued, "I thought you said we were going to eat out," he mumbled trying to swallow and laugh at the same time.

Kathy picked up the pen the Matthews kept on the counter to make out the grocery list. Holding the piece of chicken in her mouth, she turned the note over and wrote:

THANKS!

on the back, leaving it in the middle of the table.

Bill tossed his bone in the garbage, and as Kathy reached for the case, he brushed her hand aside, "Here, take the keys and open the doors for me. That's too heavy for you," he finished picking up a case in each hand.

Laughing at him being macho, she pushed the kitchen door with her back while eating her chicken, grinning at him as he mock glared at her when he walked by.

In the lot, they put their food in back of the Escalade. As Bill started the vehicle, he said, "Well, I'll be damned. I think they are playing with us. The gas tank is pegged. They must have a tank up here and topped the truck up for us."

Kathy smiled and touched her boss on the shoulder. "Playing with us or not, I really, really like these people. Fixing this food for us was a very nice and thoughtful thing to do. They are nice people, and they don't 'put on' to do it either. They just are."

"Well, I can't deny that," Madison said, fastening his belt and glancing at Kathy to see that she had as well. "I don't remember when I've felt so relaxed and... at ease, I guess you could say. Hey, that isn't even logical with all that going on in my life. But, you know, I wish that Linda were here with us. She would love this place, and the Matthews girls... Uhmmm, well maybe not. They're about her age but they're in a multiple marriage."

"And, do you think they would corrupt her?" Kathy asked, looking at him strangely, he thought, as they backed out, turned and head for the switchbacks.

"Well, I..."

"Is she sexually active?" Kathy asked, as if it were the most natural question in the universe.

Bill looked at her.

"Look at the drive," Kathy hissed, but Bill was still in the center of the road where he should be.

"Well, is she?"

"She's only fifteen," he said, but there wasn't any conviction in his voice to indicate that was a convincing reason for not being sexually active. After a moment, "Shit, Kathy. I don't know. And I don't want to know."

As they turned onto the country road and started down the mountain, Kathy continued, "She's only a little younger than these girls, and very little younger than Arlene. They giggle and cut up like teenagers, but... Diana and Laura do too. Heck, Margaret has been, too. And we've seen the girls on the plane several times for long hours, plus here. They act as adult as anyone else, and just as responsible."

Kathy sighed. "I wasn't sexually active until I fell in love with that prick I told you about that I got engaged to, but many young women are responsible enough at fifteen. Only in the last century did we make laws and set an age of consent. Before that, sixteen for a girl was considered old to get married."

"So you're telling me that my daughter is sexually active. Are you sure? You've been around her a lot, but..."

Kathy grinned at him. "I have absolutely no idea. I was just trying to prepare you after I saw the look on your face. With the right person, I'm told it's a wonderful thing. It's for darn sure that I don't know. The only experience I had was with him, and he dropped me like a hot rock when we got ready to graduate. But it sure doesn't look like it has done any of those four girls any harm. I've never been around a more balanced family. They beat the heck out of what I grew up in."

They drove in silence for a while. Seeing Bill's death grip on the steering wheel and the look on his face, Kathy reached over and touched his arm. "Bill, no father wants to learn that his daughter is a sexual person. The only things you can do are to love her, and guide her as best you can. Linda is smart and very responsible. She won't mess up when she decides it's time. And if it will make you feel any better, I doubt very seriously if that time has come for her."

Looking out the window for a moment, she glanced back at the captain. "If you want, I'll ask her if she's on the pill. Her mother may have already started her. When she decides to become active, she needs to be protected. You can't always rely on the boy to use a condom. And although I hate to bring this up, there's always the possibility of rape, or date rape. With her on the pill, at least you and she won't have to worry about a pregnancy."

"I should be discussing this with that bitch I'm married to. Should already have discussed it. I don't know where my head's been."

Looking at the strain on his face, Kathy sighed, "I shouldn't have brought it up. You were in such a good mood. Now, I've spoiled it."

"No, you haven't. I'm still in an excellent mood, and you've brought up something that should already have happened between my wife and myself. And considering what she has been doing and the way she has been treating Linda, I seriously doubt that she has her on the pill, or gives a shit what happens to our daughter."

They drove for a while in silence, then, "I guess it's up to me. What you say makes sense, and I've heard too many fathers berating themselves over the years because their daughters were pregnant. We've always been able to talk, but boy... not about this."

Madison suddenly swerved the big vehicle hard to the right, then back left, rocking the truck, but not losing control in the slightest as a coyote ran across the road in the headlights, almost too late to miss. "Shit, that was close," he said. "I hate hitting an animal, not to say anything about maybe breaking a headlight out of this nice vehicle that they've loaned us."

He might gripe about being old, but his reflexes are darn sure excellent. I'd just about bet that would have been a dead coyote if I had been driving. I probably would have hit the brakes when it would have done no good at all; he just flicked the wheel right and left, and missed it.

Why can't I find a man like him? I've never seen him when he wasn't in complete control. Even finding out what his wife has been doing, he hasn't missed a day from work, and I never even guessed. Well, at least I didn't marry that dipshit from college. The only thing worse than him dumping me would have been to marry me. Then I would have been stuck with the person he turned out to be, for life.

Oh, Bill, even if your wife does divorce you, it won't do me any good. You think you're too old for me. I don't stand a chance. And with the way I'm working, I'll never meet anybody — not that I want to — I have the man sitting beside me that I want to marry, and he doesn't even know I exist. But I did get his attention when I kissed him in the office. And, he kissed me back. But he hasn't mentioned it or anything since then. But, boy, was it nice.

Aloud, Kathy asked, "Would you like for me to talk to her, Bill?"

"Kathy, I can't ask you to do that. It's her mother's job..."

"But, you doubt that she has done it. And you don't have to ask me. I'll be glad to do it. I like Linda, and I she likes me. We get along fine, and enjoy talking to each other. I'll just tell her that you're concerned, and are afraid that Jill hasn't talked to her, or gotten her on the pill. I'll explain that you're worried about date rape, and the like. She'll just grin, knowing that you're embarrassed, but she'll love you for caring."

"I don't know. It's a little like I'm just giving her permission..."

"Bill, you don't have to give her permission. She can do it any time she pleases. Think about how much she has been alone. And she isn't going to take it like that. You'll probably have to go to the doctor's with us though, since I'm not her mother. Of course, the school might give the pills to her. I know some schools do, some with permission from the parents, some without."

Bill pulled into the restaurant they came to, still on the county road just before they got to the intersection of the state road. After shutting off the car, he turned to her. "That SOB almost date-raped you, but it wasn't a pill that saved you. It was your training."

Smiling at him, she solemnly said, "No, it was you that saved me from a very stupid mistake. If you hadn't called when you did, I would have let him screw me, and that son-of-a-bitch had pulled the condom off. There's a good chance that he would have gotten me pregnant."

"Maybe you need to heed some of your own warnings. That pill could save you, just as it could my daughter."

Kathy opened her door, then turned and grinned at him. "Well, maybe there will be two of us getting a prescription pretty soon." Laughing, again in a super mood, she bounced out of the Escalade and met Bill in front to walk beside him into the country restaurant that had just opened for breakfast. Two older men that certainly didn't look like tourists were just receiving their first cups of coffee.

The sign over the door just said:

MARTHA'S

This place is the epitome of a country restaurant, but it smells heavenly in here, Kathy thought as they walked in and picked a booth. She listened to the two in the next booth talking about getting in a last crop of hay. I love this area. There's everything out here. There's the country, shops in Winter Park, the mountain we just came from, Denver and Boulder, the Rockies. I hope the Matthews and Mr. Wainwright let us come out here more. I could really fall in love with this place.

A lady, a little on the heavy side, with dark brunette hair starting to gray, wearing a white dress and an apron came up and placed their menus on the table.

"Good morning. Coffee?"

"Yes, thanks," Bill answered after a nod from Kathy. "Plenty of creamer and Splenda, if you have it."

"Okay, be right back," she said as she left.

They chatted until the lady came back with their coffee. When they had placed their orders, the lady said, "My waitress has a kid sick this morning, and won't be in for a while, so I'm doing double duty. I'm Martha," she said sticking out her hand to Bill, then Kathy. "Are you two from around here? I haven't seen you before, and somehow you don't look like tourists."

Bill chuckled. "Well, I guess you could call us tourists, though. We were visiting some friends that live on the mountain behind us, and they loaned us their car to see the park today. That's the reason for the local plates."

Martha snapped her fingers. I knew I had seen that vehicle before. That's the reason I though you were from around her. There are usually a lot of women in the SUV when they come by here, but I don't think they're ever stopped in. If you like your meal, you'll have to tell them to stop by sometime.

"Neither of you ordered any grits?" she said, stepping back and putting her hands on her hips, mock shock.

"Uh, I've heard of them," Kathy laughed, "but I though that was a southern dish."

"Well, it is. But, I'll make you a deal. I'll give you each a side order just to try. But put a big dollop of butter in them, and if you still don't like them, sprinkle a spoon of sugar over them. I'm from Alabama. A lot of restaurants in the south serve grits with breakfast as a standard. Folks out here are rare that eat them, so I decided to serve them like I used to in the south. After two years, over half of my breakfast customers won't have their meal without them. So anyway," she laughed, "give that southern breakfast a chance, and try them. Can't ever tell, you might be another conversion."

They joked for a moment, and she left to get their order. "Don't bet on it," Bill said, laughing.

"I don't know," Kathy said, looking after the woman. "A lot of restaurants have a stale grease smell in the morning. This place really spells good. Maybe it's just clean, but to have just opened up, it surely smells good in here. If she's proud of her cooking and restaurant, maybe the food will be good."

Bill eyed the high-gloss wooden decor. "The place is spotless. I'll say that for it. If her kitchen looks anything like the dining room, the food should be clean, at least. Now what are we going to do at the park?"

Kathy opened a folder she had brought with her and pulled out a couple of sheets. "I got on the website last night and printed out a map. I looked at some of the places in the park that we might want to see. We should stop at the visitor center, I guess, and get a bigger map and see what else they have. Helen says this is the time of the year to see a lot of the animals. She says she is going to bring the girls for a tour soon, as a school day-trip."

Their meal arrived and Bill dug into his scrambled eggs. He stopped after the first mouthful. "Damn, these are good. So many of the chain restaurants just stir the eggs up in a dish, throw them on the grill until they look like an omelet, then put them on your plate. Look at these," he said motioning with his fork. "These are scrambled eggs. I hate to say this, especially after what I was thinking after she started talking about the grits, but these might just be the best scrambled eggs I've ever eaten. If not, they'll rival the ones we've been eating at the Matthews at least. These might even be better."

Kathy, having ordered hotcakes with cherries and whipped cream, reached over with her fork and took a bite of his eggs. "Hmmm, she cooked them in butter, but so do the Matthews, but there's something else. And you're right. They are excellent. Maybe we will tell the Matthews about this little place after all. My hotcakes surely didn't come out of a box. This woman can cook."

Bill took a couple of bites of his grits, put some more butter in them, but was still not overly impressed. "They're too bland for me," he said as he watched Kathy sprinkle some sugar over hers.

"I don't know. They have a nice taste to me. It isn't strong, but it has an appeal. The taste just seems to go with breakfast. I think I like them."

"The coffee isn't bad for a restaurant, but after drinking the Matthews coffee, I've been spoiled," Bill joked. "We're going to stock up on some of their brand for the plane."

They went on talking about the park and what they expected to see. When they went up to pay, Martha asked them if they liked the grits. "Bill didn't care much for them," Kathy said, "but I liked them. He was very impressed with the scrambled eggs, though."

"Well, no secret about those," Martha said, totaling their ticket. "I scramble them in butter and add a little half and half. And they're fresh. I buy from a small local farm just down the road. If they were any fresher, the hen would be fighting you for them," she laughed. "Fresh eggs make a difference. And I cook them in a small skillet continuously stirring them until they're put on your plate."

"Thanks," Kathy said, "I'll remember that. And you might have just gotten another convert about the grits."

"I've got a little secret about those, too," she said, handing Madison his change. "But, I'll save that for the next time you come in," she laughed. "Have a nice day, and tell that carload of pretty ladies to stop by, and bring that hunk in the driver's seat with them," she said over her shoulder as she hurried back to the kitchen.

As they got in the vehicle a couple of moments later, Bill pushed a toothpick out of its wrapper, then grinned over at Kathy, "Well, that was different," he laughed.

"Oh, you've just gotten used to eating in the ritzy restaurants that Mr. Wainwright treats us to. Her meal was a third the cost, and probably twice as good."

Madison started the Escalade and backed out. As he pulled back onto the road, he said, "Oh, I was just kidding. Actually I was wondering what that lady could do with a good steak. Sometime, if we're back here, we might just find out. Now we take a left when we hit 34; don't we... ?"

THE NORMAL BREAKFAST TABLE AFTER JEFF GOT BACK FROM HIS RUN

"Where are the captain and Kathy? Have they already gone?" Jeff asked.

Arlene, having seen the note of thanks, said, "Yeah, they're gone Dad. They got our lunch."

Jeff raised an eyebrow.

"We got up right after you went on your run and fixed a picnic lunch for them, then went back and got another nap."

"I thought you guys got up, but I was so sleepy, that I decided that you were just going to the bathroom, and went back to sleep. What did you fix them?" Diana asked.

"We fried them a whole bunch of chicken, and well, got carried away, I guess. We filled the case with everything we could think of."

"Good," Diana and Laura said in unison.

"We still haven't seen the park," Diana said. "I'd like for us to do that soon."

Jeff and the family agreed.

Everybody picked up on the subject, and the usual morning conversations started. A little later, as the laughter and kidding of the breakfast table momentarily quieted, Dave spoke up. "We're going to spend the day visiting our parents. Can we pick anything up for anyone while we're in Denver?"

When no one responded, Diana remarked, "We're going to have to make a grocery run within the next couple of days, but I can't think of anything that we need you to pick up. Just tell your parents that we said, hi."

"Do you want to shoot with us this morning, Fred?" Jeff asked while loading a biscuit with jelly.

Fred, not expecting to be part of the conversation, quickly swallowed and said, "If you don't mind, I'll wait until you take a break, and shoot plates. If you're still going to, that is."

Jeff grinned at him, "Sure, that sounds good to me. We haven't shot the tree in years."

Note: Jeff is referring to the IPSC tree, or dueling tree. Dueling trees come in several configurations, but generally consist of a vertical steel column with round steel plate targets at the end of rods which attach to the main mast of the tree. The configuration looks like an outline of a tree with the targets on the end of the branches. The target, and arm that it is mounted on, will swing back and lock when struck by a bullet. With an eight-configuration tree, there are four arms and targets on each side of the tree. Targets on each side are a different color. On the signal to fire, two shooters race against each other to hit the targets on their side of the tree. Jeff's dueling tree has an additional target on top to be shot by whoever gets there first. Most dueling trees have to be manually reset, but Dave bought so much, that he convinced the manufacturer to install an automatic reset that could be operated by a remote. After all, it was Jeff's money.