Flying High

by Gwynne Forster

  “Thank you. And you are sweet. You really are.”

  “Don’t rub it in. Sweetness is not an attribute that I ever tried to acquire. Mind if I call you this evening?”

  “Uh...no. I don’t mind. Have a good day.”

  “You, too.”

  She threw the cold coffee into the sink, refilled her cup from the coffeemaker and drank it while she dressed. She had better watch herself with Nelson Wainwright. He didn’t want to get involved, and neither did she. But neither of them was acting like it.

  She got to her office on time to find her ten o’clock appointment waiting for her. By then, the woman should know that arriving an hour early only meant that instead of spending forty-five minutes at the clinic, she stayed there for an hour and forty-five minutes.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Blanchard,” she said, and waved as she passed the waiting room. None of that Ms. Stuff for Mrs. Blanchard; she wanted the world to know she was married.

  A little after ten when she had begun to feel more like herself, the voice on her intercom advised her of an urgent call from her Aunt Lena. Fearing that something might have happened to Ricky, she left Mrs. Blanchard in the therapy room and hurried to her office to take the call.

  “What is it, Aunt Lena? What’s the matter?”

  “Who said anything was the matter? Honey, I need to be off Saturday, and I was wondering if you could keep little Ricky for me.”

  “Aunt Lena—”

  “Hear me out. Little Ricky fell in love with you, and love is not something he’s had a lot of, and the Colonel’s got things to do. So if you could—”

  For the next forty-five minutes, with her head the size of a watermelon, she had to deal with the back, neck and shoulder pains as well as the imaginary aches that plagued Mrs. Blanchard, and she was not in the mood for her aunt’s shenanigans. Further, Mrs. Blanchard would not take kindly to having been abandoned during her treatment.

  “Aunt Lena, nothing you can ever do is going to get me tied up with Nelson Wainwright or any other man, and if you knew what I went through with that last one, you’d back off. Get Pamela or Wendy to do it. They’re teachers, they should love children, and Wendy is single. Please excuse me now. I have a patient in there on that table who is probably freezing to death and mad as the devil.”

  And the less I see of Nelson Wainwright, the less likely I’ll wind up in his bed.

  * * *

  In that respect, at least, she and Nelson were of one mind. At about the same time, he sat at the conference table, one officer removed from the Commandant—more an indication of his status than of his rank—and forced his attention on the prospective meeting of the Marine Expeditionary Unit (MEU). Audrey Powers spent too much time in his thoughts, and he had to do something about it.

  “I want you to go to the strategy meeting, Wainwright,” he heard the Commandant say. “You’ve got plenty of time to prepare for it. See me in my office after this.”

  “Yes, sir.” He didn’t want to go to that meeting, but sending him was the Commandant’s way of letting him know he was in for a promotion.

  He left the Commandant’s office feeling as if his hard work had begun to pay off. He had the man’s confidence, which meant that unless he faltered, he was on his way to becoming a four-star general. Better get this star first, he thought as he headed for home that afternoon.

  He had prepared himself to spend the evening immersing his mind in MEU matters, but Ricky met him at the door squeezing his Audie rabbit, as he called it, and opening his little arms for a hug and a toss in the air. Nelson went through the ritual, greeted Lena, and got into his room as quickly as possible. Inside, he looked around the room...at his king-size walnut sleigh bed, the huge desk facing the picture window, the Isfahan carpet that had cost him a fortune, and all the little things sitting around that spelled his personality. And he thought of Ricky and his loving greeting, of Lena and the efforts she made to make him comfortable.

  “Is being married so different?’ he wondered aloud. “I have a woman and a child who depend on me for protection, well-being, and care. But I don’t have the joy that this life is supposed to give.”

  He sat down at his desk and tried to work. He didn’t remember a time when work hadn’t been the drug that pacified him when nothing else would, but instead of opening the bulky confidential file, he stared out the window, not knowing what he saw.

  The patter of Ricky’s feet in the hall outside his room brought him to the present and the duty that lay before him. The door opened, and he swung around in the swivel chair.

  “Unca Nelson, Miss Lena said Audie isn’t coming to see me Saturday. Can I call her, Unca Nelson?”

  He picked the child up and sat him on his knee. “Audie is a doctor, and she may have to take care of patients. She’s very busy.”

  “If I hurt my finger, she’ll come. Won’t she?”

  If there was ever a mixture of guilelessness and deviltry, Ricky possessed it in good measure. Nelson didn’t want to encourage that kind of devious plotting, but he couldn’t keep the smile off his face.

  “If she was taking care of another bad little boy, she couldn’t fix your finger, so see that it doesn’t get hurt.”

  “But she said she was coming to see me.”

  “And she will. I’m sure of it. We can’t call her now, but if I talk with her, I’ll tell her you want to know when she’s coming to see you. All right?”

  “I guess. I gotta go help Miss Lena shell the beans.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “You know how to shell beans?”

  “Yes, sir, and I can pull the ends off the string beans, too. Idle hands are the devil’s workers.”

  He stared at the child. “Run that past me again? Oh, well. You’re smart, and I’m proud of you.”

  He was about to turn around and attack the work on his desk when Ricky suddenly ran to him and hugged him, smiled and ran off before Nelson could react. In his mind’s eye, he saw Audrey reach up and kiss his cheek.

  “Oh, hell,” he said, and reached for the telephone.

  “Hello, Audrey,” he said when she answered. “This is Nelson.”

  “Hi, I remembered that you said you’d call me this evening, but I thought you’d call later. How are you?”

  “Work is staring me in the face, and Ricky just laid out a devious plan to get you over here. Plus, I’m dealing with something I’m not familiar with.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Well, two things actually. This woman who keeps fooling around in my head, and this sudden procrastination. I suspect there’s a connection.”

  “At least it’s your head.”

  “Still got the effects of that champagne? Maybe if you hadn’t drunk it after you had that Virginia Blush wine—two glasses, I think—it wouldn’t have done you in so thoroughly.”

  “Whatever, Nelson. You witnessed a first and a last.”

  “I believe that. Ricky will be five the day after tomorrow. Think you could pop by and say hi to him? That would make his day perfect.”

  She didn’t answer immediately, and he wondered at her silence. “Thanks for telling me. Of course I’ll come. But didn’t you think I’d like a chance to get him a present and wrap it nicely?”

  “You just bought him a present. He doesn’t need...”

  “You said it’s his birthday, and I’m not going to visit a five-year-old on his birthday without bringing him a present.”

  “All right. All right. Don’t get uptight. I just remembered it a few minutes ago.”

  “Isn’t he having a party?”

  “I guess I should have planned one, but Lena takes him to preschool, and I don’t know the children or their parents.”

  “Never mind. We’ll give him a party. I’ll be over around four-thirty.”

  “I�
��ll be waiting to see you.” It was the truth, but he could have kicked himself for telling her.

  “Uh...me too.”

  He didn’t care for the grudging way she said it, but if he mentioned that, he’d give away his feelings. He said, “See you in a couple of days,” and hung up.

  To his amazement, the Commandant’s words came back to him and, when he opened the file and began to read, what he saw there piqued his interest. Immediately, solutions to the problems presented to him began to swim around in his mind. He couldn’t write fast enough, got his mini-recorder and made notes. Nearly two hours later, he heard Lena banging on his room door.

  “I declare, Colonel, Ricky has to eat his supper, and it’s been done I don’t know how long. You all right in there, sir?”

  Reluctantly, he stored the tape recorder in its case, locked the file in his desk, opened the door and gazed down at the distraught woman. “Sorry, but I didn’t hear you knock earlier. I was working.”

  Her face, open and reflecting the caring that she never expressed in words, made his heart race. How had he been so lucky as to have this woman in his home, lightening his burdens and loving Ricky as if he were her own child? Money couldn’t pay for that.

  “You’re a blessing, Lena,” he said, careful not to sound emotional. “You’re just what this house needed.”

  Her smiles were his thanks. “You’re a good man, sir, and you deserve the best I can do.”

  He walked with her down the stairs and on to the breakfast room where Ricky jumped from his chair and went to meet him.

  “We’re not having beans, Unca Nelson, ’cause I only shelled three.” He held up three fingers. “I was in Miss Lena’s way, so I drew this for Audie.”

  He looked at what he supposed was a tree with a bird in it. Ricky always drew birds. He’d have to take the child to a bird sanctuary. The thought that came to him brought a smile to his face; if he had to draw something for Audrey, it would probably make her blush. How did you draw a kiss? He brushed his fingers over Ricky’s hair.

  “You did good. Never let a woman forget that you think she’s precious.” And never forget where that leads, a niggling voice reminded him.

  * * *

  Audrey had looked forward to Nelson’s call, but she had anticipated talking with him after she had finished her dinner, enjoyed a long, delicious bath and could lounge in comfort while they spoke. There I go, wishing for trouble. It’s better this way.

  After dinner, she called her younger sister. “Wendy, did Aunt Lena call you today?”

  “Yes, and I’m suspicious. Aunt Lena thinks something’s wrong with you if you don’t have a man in your life.”

  “You telling me? I’ll bet she was a femme fatale in her day.”

  “I’m sure of it. She painted such an idyllic picture of Nelson Wainwright, his home, and his little nephew that before I knew what she was doing, she’d inveigled me into spending all day Saturday with a five-year-old. Not a five-year-old ready to turn six, mind you, but one who’s having his fifth birthday between now and then. I can hardly handle those ten-year-olds I have to deal with every day much less a five-year-old.”

  “Not to worry, sis, five minutes after you meet Ricky, he’ll have you eating out of his little hand.”

  “Girl, you’re fantasizing. Why’d you refuse to do it? Don’t tell me she didn’t ask you first, ’cause I know she did. There’s an eligible man over there. Pam’s married, and you’re next. What happened? Did he lay an egg with you?”

  She stifled a laugh. “I’d be surprised if Nelson Wainwright had any experience with eggs other than what he found on his plate. That man does not inspire disrespect, and mentioning him and eggs in the same breath is tantamount to exactly that.”

  “Whew! He must be some brother if he made that kind of an impression on you! I gotta see this one. Aunt Lena can definitely count on me. Be over there Saturday morning on time.”

  “You do that. If you’re smart, you’ll leave your heart in your car.”

  “I’ll leave my... What do you mean? Do you have a stake there, or is he bad new for a gal who wants a family?”

  She pondered that for a moment and decided to let it pass. If she answered truthfully, she would say yes to both, but she’d keep her thoughts to herself. In any case, she knew she could depend on Nelson to steer her sister in the right direction.

  “You’re on your own, and you be sweet to Ricky. You hear?”

  “Of course I will, and I’ll give you all the details, including what I think of the Colonel.”

  For reasons she couldn’t fathom, after hanging up she wanted to call Nelson. Wanted it badly. She cleaned and polished the bathroom mirrors, dusted the Venetian blinds, washed the lingerie and stockings she’d worn that day and wrote out a check for her credit-card bill. As she wrote, she had a sudden understanding about her desire to phone Nelson. Proprietary as sure as her name was Audrey. That call would be an act of possessiveness, of establishing her right to phone him, detain him and talk with him. And why? Because another woman, a very good-looking woman, would ring his doorbell Saturday morning at eight o’clock.

  I’d laugh if I thought it was funny. And I’m getting off this merry-go-round before the thing starts turning.

  As if she’d never made that pledge, she got in bed with a copy of Thomas E. Ricks’s study of Marine Corps life, Making The Corps, and fell asleep reading it.

  * * *

  Two afternoons later, when Nelson reached home after his day in the office, he parked in the garage in order to get Ricky’s birthday present into the house without his seeing it. He’d have to maneuver that when Ricky’s attention was centered on something. Audrey. That would do it. He’d bring it inside when she came.

  As usual, Ricky greeted him as if he were the most special person on earth. It gave him a feeling of relevance that neither flying that Super Cobra AH-1W copter nor crippling or destroying enemy targets gave him. Nurturing and caring for his nephew for only four short months, receiving and returning the child’s love, had sustained him as rain nourished plants, and had made his life meaningful. Somehow, responsibility for Ricky validated him.

  He picked up the boy, tossed him in the air, caught him and delighted in his happy giggles. “You stay down here with Miss Lena while I change my clothes.”

  “Will I have a birthday tomorrow, too, Unca Nelson?”

  “Sorry, no. We get one birthday a year. Your next one comes when you get to be six years old. Stay where Miss Lena can see you.”

  “Okay. I could help her, but she said I have to get a little bit bigger before I can make biscuits.”

  The seriousness of Ricky’s expression made him suppress what would have been a laugh. He ruffled the child’s hair. “That’s a fact.” He dashed up the stairs.

  “And Unca Nelson,” Ricky called up after him, “she said I don’t have any business downstairs in the family room. I stayed up here.”

  “Good boy. I want you to obey her.”

  “I do, Unca Nelson. Just sometimes she talks so much I can’t remember everything I’m supposed to do.”

  “As you get older, you’ll manage,” he said, and ducked into his room as laughter finally escaped him. When she put herself to it, Lena could really talk. He’d have to tell her that giving a five-year-old ten different instructions in five minutes confused the child and guaranteed his disobedience.

  He changed into a collared yellow T-shirt, khaki trousers and a pair of Reeboks, and got downstairs just as the doorbell pealed. As he opened it, he worked at settling his pounding heart. He wanted the caller to be Audrey.

  “Eeeow,” Ricky squealed when he glimpsed Audrey. “Eeeow! Audie! Audie!”

  “Ricky, darling!” She knelt and gathered him into her arms, stroking and hugging Ricky as he plastered her face with kisses.

  Nelso
n gazed down at them, his heart constricting in his chest. Steeling his willpower, he shoved his hands in the pockets of his trousers and shifted his gaze to the carpet on which he stood. “I wonder how long I’ll manage to stay out her?” he asked himself, knowing he couldn’t count on her, that she lost herself in him whenever they came together. “It’s hooked both of us.”

  “Hi.” She smiled up at him. He couldn’t bear it and, in self-defense, looked toward the door where he saw two girls and a boy about Ricky’s age edge into the half-open door, evidently having tired of waiting for their cue to enter. Behind them, a red-nosed clown followed. Audrey released Ricky so that he could see who she’d brought with her. Obviously curious, but pleased as well, Ricky gazed up at the clown, a twelve-year-old boy who lived next door to Audrey’s sister Pam. When the children introduced themselves to Ricky, joyous noise signaled the beginning of the party.

  As he observed Ricky’s self-assurance and his ease with the other children, he thought of the child he’d brought to his home a mere four months earlier: solemn, sad, withdrawn and fearful. He knew then the miracle of love. Only the love and caring Ricky had received from Lena and himself could have changed the boy in so short a time.

  “I love you, Audie,” he heard Ricky say. “I love you a lot.”

  “Y’all, let’s go downstairs now,” Lena said to them.

  Ricky stared up at her, his face mirroring his confusion. “But Miss Lena, you said I couldn’t go down there.”

  “You can now.”

  “When did you do all this?” Nelson asked Lena as he looked at the balloons floating from the ceiling and rising—on strings—like trees from buckets of red, green and yellow sand.

  “Audrey helped me this afternoon while Ricky was taking his nap.” She gave each child a paper hat and a noisemaker.

  He figured Ricky’s sense of awe matched his own, as the child stared in wonder at his surroundings. Nelson went to the baby grand piano, the material possession he cherished most, and played the first two bars of “Happy Birthday.” Lena, Audrey and the children joined him in singing it. If he had ever been happier, he didn’t recall it.