Chapter 43

09:35 Saturday, November 2^nd, 1991

Broadway Ford

2560 Webster St, Oakland, CA 94612

"Gunny, your junkheap is losing compression," Lenore reported as she dropped the newspaper on the table. "Damned thing is hard to start when it's cold."

"How do you know its losing compression?" he asked, reasonably.

"Well, it's got no power to speak of. When's the last time you drove it? I about had to get out and push it up the hill from Albertson's."

"Okay ... what do you want to do about it?"

"As much fun as rebuilding it sounds, I think it's time to trade it in."

He looked at her from over the front page he'd just tugged free of the folded paper. Damned if I don't think she's serious about rebuilding it being fun. Or about trading it in. "Okay. How much car do you think we can afford?"

"Did I ever tell you what my sister Mary's husband does for a living?"

"Well, Miss Collins, I've got to say it's not often I get A-plan members at my dealership. Between that, the Ford Credit and your military rebates, you're about getting this car for the cost of the materials." The salesman was a shorter, roly-poly sort of man, nearly completely bald, in his later fifties, Lenore judged. Reasonably natty in a sweater and slacks, he gave off an air of comfortable salesmanship, friendly and easy-going.

As he went off to find the paperwork the Finance office was putting together, the Gunny leaned in to whisper in her ear. "Are you sure about this?"

"Shut up, Gunny. You like the car."

"Yes, dear. I like the car," he parroted. "I even like the color you picked."

"Gunny," she said, a note of low warning.

"Okay, okay, I like the color I picked."

"You look like a cop in it," she laughed lightly, not quite a giggle. "You're not going to get any tickets while you drive it."

He snorted. "With the Oak Knoll sticker on the windshield, I'll look like a Federal agent." He stretched theatrically, and grinned at her. "You're taking the Beemer today?"

She nodded. "I've got to go collect my homework, and catch up with the girls," she said. It's not a lie, but it's not the whole truth either. I don't know what you have planned for certain today, Gunny, but I'm buying this car on my Petty Officer Second-Class salary, so you can have several thousand dollars' cash for a down payment on a ring. And if I know you, you're going to go ask my father, first; and I'll use the day to go shopping for a gown for the Marine Corps Ball.

"Deb," Lenore told her happily, "I made him get rid of the truck. Now he can drive up to my parent's and go ask my Dad for permission and not have to worry about the truck making it."

Deb's chuckle carried through the cell phone well. "You seem certain that that's what he's doing,"

Lenore nodded, though she knew Deb couldn't see it. "Yeah, and after my Daddy says 'yes', he'll go find your Jack and find a jeweler. He's probably already set it up with him, and so you'd better let the Chief have the afternoon free."

Deb laughed long and hard. "Okay, so what are you and I doing for the afternoon, Lenore?"

"I'm going to collect Denise and Lynne, and the four of us will go find some Bridal shop and get a dress for me for the Marine Corps Ball, where, in his Evening Dress, surrounded by all the elegance that the Misguided Children can arrange, he will, from bended knee, propose. I've got it all worked out, Deb, it'll be between the cake and the first dance."

Deb laughed hard enough to actually wheeze for air. "Okay, Lenore. One o'clock, okay?"

"Hi, Gunny. What's new?" Deb was hoping he'd tell her about the car.

"I wanted to be sure I could borrow Kostowe this afternoon, Deb. But I need two things from you – Kate and Dan's phone number, I'm on the cell phone in the car, and I need a phone number for Junior."

"Junior? You're going all out Gunny."

"Deb, I'm leaving nothing at all to chance. I got a pen, ready when you are."

"Stand by to copy," she said, mock-seriously, and then read him the two numbers.

"Kate, it's Gunny Hebert," he said when she'd answered.

"Gunny, good to hear your voice. Everything okay?"

"Everything's fine. Kate, I'm driving over to see you in the new Ford she just bought for us."

There was a moment's pause, and then Kate said, "Would you put her on the line?"

"She's not with me, Kate. She told me she was spending the afternoon with the girls, catching up, but I think they're going shopping for a gown for the Marine Corps Ball."

A second, longer pause, and then Kate said, "And you're coming over to see us?"

"To see Dan, Kate."

"Oh." And then, "Oh!" Another brief pause, and then, with a little emotion, "She's clever, Gunny. I bet you thought this was your own idea, huh? Dan's setting new trellises with Effy. I think he could use a little help, and I'll need Effy to ... I'll think of something by the time you get here. How soon?"

The Gunny considered. "I'm on the Eastshore freeway now, I'll be over the bridge and on the one-oh-one in maybe ten minutes? About twenty-five minutes."

"Okay, Gunny, I'll go get Effy now."

12:15 Saturday, November 2^nd, 1991

139 Meadow Ln

Novato, CA 94947

Dan was, the Gunny saw, digging holes with a post-hole digger. He'd laid out a neat string line, and every six feet had a white spray-painted dot where he would dig the holes. On the cart were dozens of pressure-treated 4x4 posts, several bags of concrete, and a large nylon water tank, about half-full. Dan had been digging the holes, the Gunny thought, while Effy mixed the concrete, and had propped the posts up and plumb with one-inch slat and a cordless drill and drywall screws.

They'd done one row of what looked to be sixty posts, and were about halfway through the second.

"Hello, Dan," the Gunny said.

The other looked up, and grunted. "You're not here to work, dressed like that."

The Gunny looked down at his tan chinos, pinpoint Oxford shirt, and brown shoes. "No, I guess I'm not. We went and bought a car to replace my truck this morning."

Dan squinted at him. "It's never good when a man gives up a truck and doesn't get another."

"Dan, you know why I'm here."

The older man took off his work gloves, and put them on one of the handles of the post-hole digger, then cupped his hands over each other and the gloves, resting his weight on the tool. "Yeah, I know."

He sighed, then, and straightened. "The Army did it to Ben, and he grew up when I wasn't looking. I was looking right at Lenore, and then this place," he jerked a thumb behind him, upslope, toward the vines on the trellises, "this place made me blink. And then she was grown up, and it was all so damned fast."