Chapter 28

Thursday I ended up working late. Wasn't MY fault. We closed breakers the size of washing machines to squirt electricity into a part of the system that powered a couple of big electric motors. I knew my electrical equipment was good, but as happens all too often, when the commissioning team started the first of my little (smaller than a pickup truck. Twenty-five hundred horsepower) motors, it spun a couple of times and tripped.

AND as is usually the case, that meant that a mechanical engineer in charge of test-running some pumps comes screaming into my substation hollering that there must be some sort of electrical problem. I routed him to my computer, set up for JUST this event, because heaven knows, this is NOT Dan's first rodeo.

I pointed out the record of the start attempt and said, "There's where it tripped. Notice the flag, Randy. It says 'external device trip'. Since you guys insist on protecting YOUR equipment by tripping MY motor, you oughtta make sure everything is right before you ask ME to start up." Yeah. Just a wee bit of sarcasm. But I was smiling when I said it.

At least Randy was smiling when he said, "asshole!"

"Of course," I continued, rubbing a little salt in his open wounds, "you guys DID set up your field trips to latch and tag the event record so we can find out exactly what tripped from out there, right? My stuff does that!"

"Mine better do that," he said. Off he stalked.

He didn't return immediately, so I had to hunt him down. "So what'd you find, Randy?" At least I didn't ask him that in front of the boss.

His face spoke volumes. "Dammit, Dan! We hired these people to program that system, and it's just like you said: the trip inputs don't latch. They're fixing that right now."

"So what tripped us, then?"

He said, "We had to go line by line through the event log, but somebody forgot to open a valve to a sensor. It didn't see oil pressure. We're going to be ready to try another start at a quarter to four, after the guy finishes updating the logic."

I saw myself leaving late, then. "I'll be here. But as soon as my motor's up to speed and you guys load that compressor up, I'm gone."

Randy laughed. "If I had a cutie like Cindy waiting on me, I'd be gone, too!"

I grinned. Every time somebody mentioned Cindy out here, I couldn't help but smile. Randy was one of the bunch that started the 'Apprentice Engineer' tag. I flipped my cellphone open and did a quick text to Cindy: "I'll be a little late this evening. Call me when you get out of school."

I walked into a couple of my other substations and talked with my electrical crew and technicians, killing time, short-stopping a few issues, then retired to my office and worked though signing off some test reports. I watched the clock dragging toward four o'clock.

Cindy called and I told her the situation. "Just come home when you can, sweetie. If it's after five or so, I'll eat here."

Randy's bunch is running late. I was just getting out of my chair to go see what was slowing things down when I heard his voice on the radio.

"Come in, Dan Richards." Randy's voice.

"Go ahead, Randy." I said, putting my jacket on.

"We'll be ready for a run when you get here."

"On the way, dude," I said.

This time things worked exactly as we expected. They ran all the way up to full load with not a single adverse electrical indication. Randy walked into the substation.

"See what happens when mechanical gets their shit together?" I teased.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah..." Randy laughed. "We'll do Number 2 Pump first thing in the morning."

"Wanna bet it runs okay?" I jibed, heading for the door. I looked at my lead technician. "Jason?"

"Piece a'cake," He laughed.

I called Cindy when I got in the truck. "Hi, baby! I'm on the road."

"I thought you might be. I'm being all domestic an' stuff..."

Domestic? Cindy was neat around our little domicile. She did her share of dishes and sweeping and such, and as far as we both could fit in the kitchenette area, she helped out, but never had she announced herself as domestic. So... "Oh yeah?" I asked.

"Uh-huh. I'm getting all the stuff ready to make pasta alla carbonara. I was gonna wait until you called to start heating the pan."

"Heat the pan, princess," I said.

I walked into the trailer to find the smell of garlic and onion and bacon. She was doing it. Our biggest pot was boiling on the back burner with the pasta. I saw a little bowl with freshly grated Parmesan cheese. And with that smile and those eyes, she could've served me a plate of wood chips and I'd've been happy, but she knew that I favored a carbonara every now and then, quick, filling, and she was sure trying...

"Boiling the pasta heats the trailer, too. The air gets so dry in here."

Cindy in an apron. I was astounded. I said so.

"Just tryin' to be a good little wifey," she giggled. I kissed her on the top of her head. She laughed. "It's about time I actually cooked us a meal that didn't include "Peel the plastic film off the tater tots."

I laughed. "You can't be EVERYTHING. Except maybe to me ... and you don't need to cook for that..."

A few minutes later we were sitting at the table. She was twirling her pasta onto her fork. "Well, husband, how's the meal?" her eyes twinkled.

"Perfect!" I admitted.

"I put more pepper in it than I thought it needed." She had little beads of perspiration on her forehead.

"I think it's perfect, baby. But you don't have to make yourself uncomfortable. I can add pepper to mine."

"Maybe I'll cut back just a little next time. But that red pepper sure smelled good in the oil. And I took the eggs out when I got in the trailer so they'd be at room temperature, like you said."