Pinups and Puppies

by R. L. Merrill

  “Well, not exactly. I mean, I’m out, but I just don’t know how long I’m here—”

  “And I’m not the girl in port who waits for her soldier to come back to town for a brief fling. I’ve been that girl before.”

  Her breasts brushed against my biceps as she turned to walk past me.

  “Hold on. Dinah?”

  She turned around and her smile was gone.

  “Look, I had a great time. I’ll see you around. Oh, and I’ll let you know about Prudence.”

  “Dinah—”

  “Goodnight, Marianne.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  I replayed my epic fail with Dinah during downtime the next couple of days. I helped Zack and Matt at the gallery as they readied for a showing of Matt’s latest photography and another local artist’s sculptures. The physical work was good to keep my mind off of Dinah.

  I would have been pissed off except for two reasons.

  One, it was true. I’d told Dinah when we’d first met that I wasn’t sure what I was doing or whether I was even going to stay in the area. It was obvious we had chemistry, and I really wanted to pursue her, but then what?

  And two, it wasn’t fair for me to drag someone else into my world of indecision. I needed to get my shit together before I even considered dating anyone, much less a goddess like Dinah. That thought was motivation enough.

  “Earth to Marianne!”

  Zack’s voice startled me, and I dropped the box of nails I was holding for him. I crouched down with a grunt and I started scooping up the nails. Zack climbed down from the ladder to help me.

  “Where did you go?”

  I laughed and plopped down on my butt. “I don’t know. My date-ish non-date the other night did not end well. It seems as though my inability to decide what the hell I’m doing with my life means I can’t even—”

  “Get laid?” Matt said as he walked over. “Close the deal? What else are you gals calling it these days?”

  I socked him in the arm as he sat down next to me.

  “Well, you totally nailed this scenario.”

  “Enough, asshole brother!” But I couldn’t help laughing at his cheesiness.

  “Seriously, though, Marianne. If you could do anything at this point in your life, what would you do?”

  I rolled my eyes and leaned back on my hands. “I can tell you what I won’t do. I won’t work for assholes or people I can’t trust.”

  “I guess I’m out then,” Matt said.

  “You already have a manager, remember?”

  He raised an eyebrow at his husband and sighed. “Yeah. My husband the slave driver.”

  Zack flicked his tongue at him. “You love every minute of it.”

  “Can I add ‘not watch you two make obscene gestures at each other’ to my list?”

  “Sorry. We got off topic. So no assholes or untrustworthy douchebags.”

  “Right. And I really don’t want to fly people anymore. That leaves the FedEx job, which could be cool, I guess, but I might have to move if they need me elsewhere. I don’t know. As much as I tell myself I like not having a schedule, I know that not having a schedule is making me crazy.” I exhaled harshly and rolled my head around on my shoulders. Matt scooted behind me and massaged my shoulders.

  “You have all day to stop that,” I said on a moan.

  “So we’re clear on what you don’t want to do. What do you like about your new normal?”

  “Siouxsie. Being with you guys and Nell. Seeing Mom and Dad. Having time for my art.” I dropped my head forward and sighed. “Dinah. Or at least the idea of Dinah, the idea of having a little romance, maybe?”

  Zack leaned forward and squeezed my hand. “I can understand why that’s a hard thing to want. After everything you went through...”

  “Yeah. It’s still hard. I guess I was pretty naïve to think Michael was going to let it go. I totally should have known that I couldn’t speak out without repercussions.”

  Matt’s arms wrapped me in a hug. He and Zack knew the whole story. Had been there for me when I came home; sent Nell to our parents so they could sit with me on the couch as I drowned my sorrows in whisky. Matt held my heavy bag as I beat the shit out of it, each punch angrier than the last. Zack took long runs with me through the hills, my feet pounding the ground in time to the angry music on my iPod. So much anger. Helplessness. Something I hadn’t felt before. It sucked.

  “Babe, you can take all the time you need to decide—”

  “But that’s just it! The longer I don’t know what I’m doing, the longer until I can have a fucking life!”

  Zack reached over and grabbed my ankle, giving it a squeeze.

  “You know we love having you here, but I don’t want us to be one more thing you feel obligated to do. All I know is, if you know what you don’t want to do, that narrows it down.”

  “So I should tell Dad no consulting or airline connections, huh?”

  I laughed. We all knew Dad would huff and puff, but in the end would acquiesce to whatever I wanted to do. He’d been furious over my treatment by my superiors and felt helpless that he couldn’t do anything for me. If it weren’t for him, though, I likely would have been court-martialed and not allowed to retire instead.

  “I wasn’t kidding when I told you I’d love to do a show with your paintings. What if I officially commissioned your work? How long would you need?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. I haven’t done a show since high school. How many pieces you thinking?”

  Matt grinned. “Usual six-to-eight at the minimum. I’d love that or whatever you can come up with. I know they’ll be phenomenal. You’ve got plenty of money to get you by, you don’t have to work.”

  By the time we got home and ate dinner, they had me talked into doing a show in four months. That bought me some time. I had a task, a purpose, and I could set my own schedule.

  That left me in the position to pursue other things I wanted...

  Chapter Seven

  Everyone and their brother were out on this Saturday morning. The rain had let up, the sun was out, I’d already taken my run for the day, and now it was time for...pursuit.

  I pulled into the parking garage off of Mission and after twenty minutes of waiting for people to park, to back in and out five times to get it right, for drivers to stop blocking the aisles, or for families of ten to stop walking down of the middle of the aisle, I parked my truck on the third floor. It was a dangerous walk trying to get out of there, as well. The same people who were in my way as I’d attempted to park were now determined to run me over as I walked out.

  By the time I reached the street, my blood pressure had to have been up ten points.

  The Downtown Hayward Farmers’ Market had more stands than I would have thought for February, but then the winters were usually mild enough here that produce grew plentifully.

  I passed by tables of strawberry baskets, mounds of grapes and citrus, along with different varieties of green leafy things. I stopped and picked up some salad fixings so I’d look like a legitimate shopper. It didn’t matter, really. I intended to be clear with Dinah that I was there to see her.

  Down about halfway, I noticed a booth that looked a little different than the produce tables under canopies. This one had wooden crates on top displaying jars of local honey, decorative soaps in wild colors, all kinds of body care products, eggs, and goat cheese. I recognized Martha from the band standing with a blonde woman, but I didn’t see Dinah. I almost turned around to leave but Martha spotted me.

  “Hey, Marianne! Come to check out our wares?”

  I chuckled nervously, feeling the fight-or-flight instinct revving up.

  “Absolutely. I was told you have some great stuff. Is, uh, Dinah around?”

  Martha’s eyes flared. “She is. She went to grab us some food. You’re welcome to wait.”

  I came this far. I intended to continue my mission.

  “Cool. Seems like quite the bustling marketplace here. You have good sales to
day?”

  Making small talk was foreign to me, but I’d do it if it meant getting to talk to Dinah.

  “Yeah. We sold out of our most popular soaps and lotions, I sold about half of my honey inventory...Cecily, how did we do on eggs?”

  The blonde woman turned to face me and smiled. “I’ve only got two dozen left, actually.”

  “I’ll take them,” I said, reaching for my wallet. “I’m sure they’ll get eaten at our house.”

  Cecily gave Martha a knowing smile and pulled out two cartons. She flipped them open to show me there were no cracked ones. “They’re from our cage-free, organically fed chickens. If you bring the cartons back next time, we give a ten-percent discount.”

  “That’s a great idea. Yeah, sure, I’ll bring them back. Cuts down on waste.”

  “That’s so cool that you flew Prudence up here,” Martha said. “She’s adorable. I’m trying to talk myself out of scooping up one of her puppies when they’re ready.”

  “Why would you not? They’re so cute,” Cecily said.

  “I can’t have a dog until I move out of my parents’ place. I’ve got the money saved up, just looking for a roommate.”

  “You should come out and join us at the farm! We’ve got room.”

  Martha wrinkled her nose. “Would I be on goat duty? Those things freak me out. They eat everything!”

  Cecily rolled her eyes. “Goats are life. They make everything better!”

  Dinah walked up behind her friends, looking into a bag. “Alright, who has the egg salad and who wanted the— Oh.”

  Dinah stopped short with wide eyes when she saw me, and then she gave a shy smile, tinged with discomfort. She wore understated clothes today and no makeup, and she was just as beautiful in her natural state. The thing that concerned me was, she wasn’t as bubbly as she’d been previously.

  Cecily grabbed the bag from her, and she and Martha moved to the back of the booth, where they stood giggling over their lunch options.

  “Hey.” I smiled, hoping she might relax.

  “Hi.” She looked at my bag. “Get what you needed?”

  I shook my head. “Can we take a walk?”

  Cecily and Martha both nodded with their mouths full of sandwich. Dinah started to say no, until Cecily stepped forward and elbowed her.

  Dinah shook her head. “I see you’ve met my sister,” she said, patting the blonde on the head.

  Cecily grinned wide, keeping her lips closed.

  “Nice to meet you.”

  Martha shooed us away. “We’ve got this. Market’s nearly over. We don’t have much to take back. I’ll load up with your sister and you kids go have a good time.”

  Dinah started to protest and Cecily gave her a little wave. She turned to look me over, and I smiled boldly. I intended to at least have her hear me out. The decision was ultimately up to her.

  We walked back towards the parking garage. “Mind if I take this up to my truck?”

  She shook her head, remaining quiet.

  “I wanted to thank you,” I said to her as we climbed the parking garage ramp.

  “For what?”

  “For reminding me that I had decisions to make—and that those decisions are mine to make now. I get to decide what I do, who I see, where I go.”

  Dinah smiled. “Guess that’s a change of pace from the military.”

  We reached my truck and I turned to face her. “It is that.” I unlocked the door and slid my bags carefully into the king cab. “I had some say, but not totally...not in the end.” I sighed. “Will you come with me? I’d like to show you something.”

  She hesitated. “I don’t know if this is such a good idea.”

  I resisted the temptation to touch her, hold her hand, show her how well we’d fit together if she gave me a chance.

  “I just want to show you something, and then I can take you home. We’re on your timeline. You can even send your girls my number, license plate, whatever, so you’ll feel safe.”

  Dinah laughed and played with her ponytail, tugging on it and wrapping it around her finger. “That’s not what I’m worried about. Alright. Let’s go.”

  We climbed into my truck, and I turned on my iPod with the little Bluetooth speaker that fit into the cup holder.

  “Hi-tech operation you’ve got here,” she said.

  “See, it’s all about compromise. They don’t make these trucks anymore, which is stupid because they were Ford’s bestselling truck for a long time and they’re perfect, especially if you live in a city with no parking. I refuse to give it up, so I make do. I used to have a cassette adapter for satellite radio, but it didn’t work very well and the contraption kept falling off the dash, so I went with option b.”

  Dinah looked at my setup with the charger cords neatly attached to the side of the console and plugged into the dash cigarette lighter. I’d even installed my own sub-dash compartment for extra storage.

  “Are you the secret female twin of MacGyver? Looks to me like you could fix just about anything.”

  I shrugged. “I’ve had this baby for a long time.”

  “Does she have a name?”

  Oh boy. “Yeah, um, Chrissie...as in Hynde, from The Pretenders.”

  Dinah laughed. “You sure had your share of musical crushes.”

  We took A Street and then turned left toward the airport’s entrance, and I turned into the parking lot. Dinah sat up straighter. “Are you taking me to meet Siouxsie?”

  I entered the code and the gate opened for us. “Secondly. But first, I have something else at my hangar to show you.”

  She folded her hands in her lap, but I could see she was vibrating with excitement. She whipped her head around as we navigated the airport tarmac, driving past the terminal to the rows of hangars beyond. I pulled up outside mine and turned off the engine.

  “This is so cool! I’ve always loved the vintage planes. When I first discovered pinup girls in the calendars, I fell in love with the style, then I saw the military connection and fell in love with the girls on the planes.”

  “Well, then hopefully you’re going to like this.”

  I unlocked the door and slid it open for us to walk in, closing it behind us. Dinah immediately walked over to Siouxsie and ran her hand lovingly along the wing.

  “She’s gorgeous! So tiny and cute!” She peeked in the window. “Where did you fit Prudence?”

  I opened the door and showed her my little compartment behind the seat.

  “It’s not ideal. It would be better to have a bigger plane down the road. I figured I could eventually move up to a Cessna 182. The weight limit is closer to a thousand pounds and with a bigger tank, my range would be more like seven to eight hundred miles. I’d have plenty of room and ability to carry a couple of bigger dogs even.”

  Dinah turned to face me. “So you’re thinking about doing Pawsitive Flight on a regular basis?”

  “Yeah. It combines the things I love, flying and dogs. And it introduces me to beautiful women.”

  Yeah, I was being a shameless flirt, but I’d brought her into my private sanctum to be honest with her, and I intended to be transparent.

  Dinah smiled nervously, and then her gaze shifted past me to my art corner—and she gasped.

  “Oh my God!” She hurried over to my easel and placed her hand on her chest. “Did you do this? It’s...it’s...”

  “I found the program in my dad’s stuff and, well, I was inspired.”

  “I’ll say! I didn’t know you were an artist, too!”

  “It’s been a long time since I’ve done something like this, but yeah. I’ve loved drawing and painting since junior high. Matt—my brother—and I were major art geeks. He mostly does photography, but he paints a helluva lot better than I do.”

  Dinah placed a hand on my shoulder but couldn’t seem to tear her eyes away from her likeness. “Marianne...I don’t know what to say. It’s so beautiful.”

  “Thank you. I’m going to do a gallery show with Matt in a few months. I
feel pretty positive about finding the inspiration for more of these.”

  She finally turned to face me, her eyes wide. “Is that how you see me?”

  I turned to look at the 11x14 canvas. I’d chosen to make her more prominent in the picture, big surprise. I’d taken a few liberties with the image; instead of the polka dot top underneath, the jumpsuit was open enough to see the curves of her breasts and one of her shoulders. I didn’t attempt to put the tattoos on her, however, and she seemed to have more now than when the picture was taken about ten years ago.

  “It barely comes close to how I see you.”

  I turned to look at her, my cheeks hot from the admission. My skin heated under her lingering touch and I felt her warm breath on my cheek. I cradled her jaw and ran my thumb over her bottom lip, hoping she wanted the same thing I did, asking for permission.

  She closed her eyes and brought a hand up to hold mine. Then she kissed my thumb.

  Her eyes opened, and she smiled wickedly before nibbling the pad of my thumb.

  I took that as an invitation.

  Our bodies met in the middle as I took her face in my hands and pressed my hopeful lips to hers.

  Dinah moaned and melted against me with her arms around my shoulders. She opened her stance a bit to lessen the height difference, and then opened her mouth to me. My tongue eagerly sought hers as my hands explored what I’d so lovingly used my brush to worship on canvas. As I’d painted her, I wondered what her skin would feel like, how warm she would feel if we were skin to skin. Would the height difference be weird? Would she care?

  The answers were:

  Soft.

  Hot.

  No.

  And apparently not.

  She pulled away to walk backward toward the couch, tugging my hand to follow her.

  “I had no ulterior motives in bringing you here, I swear,” I said as we lowered to the couch next to each other. “I merely planned to show you the painting.”

  She turned to face me and played with my fingers against my leg, exploring every crease, every angle of them, with her own fingertips. “Wednesday night...I let old hurts get to me and didn’t give you a chance to explain.”

  She paused, and I waited to see if she would continue. As much as I wanted to keep kissing her, it seemed she had something to get off her chest.