Chapter Seventeen



We were scheduled to meet again for dinner before the concert. Tina had her blue dress.  Navy blue.  Her hair fairly glowed with that color.  Makeup?  A touch of perfume.  This was a healthy young girl.  I guess some misguided 'consultant' might've wanted to tone down her freckles and highlight something or emphasize something else, but what I saw standing before me when it was time to leave the room, that was perfection.

Me?  A guy in a suit.

We met Cindy and Dan in the lobby. Cindy was wearing some sort of forest green dress that did for her hair what navy blue did for my Tina.  She was a stunning little thing.  Tina pulled her camera out of her purse.

"Pictures," she said.  "Take pictures of me and Cindy!"

I did.  And then we roped the desk clerk into taking pictures of the four of us.

Reservations got us into the restaurant without a hitch, and we ate a pleasant meal, not too filling.  We enjoyed our conversation, with an eye on the clock.

We arrived at the auditorium and as I'd scouted out before, a decent parking spot.  I think Dan and I looked acceptable.  I mean, nobody pointed and giggled.  Actually, I did 'respectable engineer in a social venue' pretty well, part of the politics of the jobs I'd been on.  But that was just us guys.  

We walked in with Tina and Cindy.  And heads actually turned.  It didn't take hours of primping and thousand-dollar dresses and three-hundred dollar coiffures.  It took two young girls of natural beauty, dressed tastefully, carrying themselves with poise and grace.  Even though Dan's little darling looked like she was on the verge of skipping.

We escorted our wives to prime seats, twelve rows back from center stage.  Tina looked at me when we sat down, then at Cindy seated on the other side of her.  "This is more than I ever expected in life."

Cindy tittered softly, answering, "Me, too, Tina."

We talked softly among ourselves until the curtain rose on the orchestra.  I held my breath as the conductor raised his baton, only exhaling when the first notes sounded.  I actually shook with the emotion of the music.  

In the midst of the performance, I looked over at Tina.  She was smiling, her eyes closed.  Her hand reached for mine and I closed it in my own.  She gave me a little shake.  I looked at her again, this time meeting her eyes, knowing that she was not feigning an interest.  Not one bit.  I glanced past Tina to Cindy's face.  Dan's little darling had a tear sliding down her cheek.

The concert ended to roaring applause and we made our way out of the building with the crowd.  I could feel the dampness on the breeze, now coming from the south, presaging the coming front.

Dan was walking hand in hand with Cindy, and I had Tina's arm in mine.  "Rain.  Tomorrow.  We won't be flying," he said.

We loaded into the car, the girls chattering excitedly about the concert.

"I cried.  I ACTUALLY cried," Cindy said.  "It MOVES me…"

Tina retorted, "It's gonna be hard going back to hearing it off the iPod now."  She playfully punched my shoulder.  "You just ruint ANOTHER thing for me, Alan!"

"Sorry," I said.  "I feel that way, too.  Y'know what it means to bring YOU to a concert and see YOU enjoy it, for real, not just putting up with my weird tastes?"

Tina giggled.  "I'm PART of your weird tastes, baby doll!"

Dan was laughing with Cindy.  "Just like US," Cindy said.

We pulled into the pancake joint a bit after ten and walked in.  Late nights in places like this don't usually see the likes of people dressed like our two girls.  We were seated in a booth.  The waitress passed her eye on our group and said, "Lawd, don't you look GRAND!"

The girls happily replied "Thank you!" at the same time, then giggled at each other.

Dan said, "She could've been talkin' about me an Alan."

The waitress laughed.  "Wasn't though." She smiled broadly.  "Might've just blown my tip, though."

Cindy said, "We'll make sure you're covered."

Tina was bobbing her head in agreement.

The girls chatted happily about the concert.  Dan and I talked about work.   I knew Dan, and I knew that look.  One part of his mind was on the conversation and the other part was running down lists of possibilities opened up by the idea that our WIVES had apparently connected in a special way.  

As a matter of fact, Cindy kept using the word 'sisters'.

Tina said, "We're not letting this thing drop, are we, babe?" she asked, fixing me in the gaze of those blue eyes.

Cindy backed her up.  "Yeah, you two didn't do a good job, last time."

"I know," I admitted.  "We sort of let things slide."  I looked at Tina.  "You're a civilizing influence.  We'll keep track."

Following our late evening snack, we returned to the hotel.  Drips and drizzles of rain speckled the windshield.  Flying out on Sunday was getting pretty unlikely. In the lobby, the girls agreed to breakfast together and then some sort of touristy museum day.

Tina and I walked into our room.

"So, baby, what do you think NOW?" she asked, a little smile on her lips.

"What do **I** think?" I asked.  "I think you and Cindy are sisters.  Apparently Dan and I broke into some parallel universe to get to you."

Giggle.  She was reaching to undress.

"No.  I get to do that.  You look so beautiful.  I saw heads turn everywhere we walked, baby."

She came to my waiting arms.  "Thank you, Alan.  Doesn't matter what anybody else thinks.  If YOU think I'm beautiful, if YOU love me, I have what I need."

"Still, little one," I countered, "You're pretty.  You were stunning to other people."

She wrapped her arms around my neck and we kissed.  Her lips next to my ear whispered, "Undress me."

As beautiful as she was in her dark blue dress, she became MORE beautiful as her clothes were removed.  "The music was beautiful, sweet one," I said.  "But you exceed that."

She smiled.  "Sweet words, sir, will get you…  ME!"  Grinning, she tugged at my trousers. 

Another session of epic joy that was our love-making, then a quiet few moments resting in each other's arms.  Finally, we got out of bed, showered, and ended up in bed again, this time the session more relaxed, my lover more giggly and less urgent, and sleep overcame us as we were in sexual exhaustion.

Yes, there was a wet spot.

We got up at eight and showered together, teasing, laughing, and at five minute to nine the phone rang.  Tina answered it.  "Hi, Sis!"  Pause.  "No, not this morning!  You?"  Giggle.  "Okay!  We'll see you in the lobby!"  Tina turned to me, smiling.  "My sister!  And her husband!"

We met our friends in the lobby for a run to breakfast.  We were loading up into the car to go and Dan looked at me and said, "Us sad puppy dogs have to stick together."  I had no earthly idea as to the meaning of that comment, but it caused two young girls to laugh.

We sat down for breakfast.  I looked out the window at the low clouds.  Wasn't a day to fly, not with a range of mountains between us and the destination.  After breakfast we returned to the hotel.  Dan and I stayed in the lobby watching the news while the girls went to our room to put together an itinerary. 

They had it planned out.  A museum.  A German restaurant, per Cindy, because "Dan was in Germany.  Said he liked the food."  A movie.  Dinner.

At the end of the day we simply went back to our respective rooms and enjoyed the full-sized surroundings, knowing that tomorrow would have us back into eight feet wide and thirty-something feet long and a shower for one.

We were up and checked out before heading to breakfast together, this time in two separate cars.  After breakfast, our two-car convoy headed to the airport as the cloud cover broke and slid off to the east.

We turned in our rental cars and did a little turn at looking at each other's airplanes, and then we loaded up.

I saw Cindy doing her pre-flight under Dan's eye, and as soon as she finished checking fuel levels, Dan brought me the ladder so Tina could finish our own checks.

"Who's flying home?" Dan asked.

"Me!" Tina chirped.  "Alan flew us here!"

Cindy giggled.  "I'm flyin' us, too!"

Our wheels rolled before Dan and Cindy's.  They trailed us by a safe distance to the run-up ramp.  As Tina taxied onto the runway and lined up, she turned to see Cindy's head barely above the instrument panel of her plane.  Tina waved, mouthing, "Bye, Sis!" and then pushed the throttle forward.  We lifted off and departed, turning to the northwest and home.

After a leisurely climb to altitude, we set up for cruise.  "Right into the wind," Tina said.  "Gonna add an hour to the trip."

"We have plenty of time, baby," I said.

"Uh-huh.  So what do you think about my new little sister?"

"Second-biggest surprise I've had in the last year," I answered.

"Second?" she questioned.

"You are the first," I countered.  "Dan, him I figured I'd run into sooner or later, somewhere.  Guy's good.  And he does these things like I do.  But Cindy caught me by surprise."

"She's young, huh?" Tina said, glancing at me for my reaction.

"We talked about that already," I said.  "He could've been in jail over her."

"Like a certain husband of mine who was consorting with an under-age girl, huh…"

"Yeah, but that was just in the state we were living.  Fourteen is illegal everywhere."

Tina smiled.  "They love each other, Alan.  You didn't catch the way she looked at him?  And he obviously adores her."

"Like I adore you," I said.

"Yeah, like that," she said, doing 'smug' with a smile.  "D'ya think me an' her could go to the same college?  I think that'd be neat."

"I can see where it would be, baby doll,' I said.  "But the 'work' angle.  That's gonna take some thought."

"Baby," she said, "Cindy said a community, you know, me an' you an' her an' Dan.  I can imagine Dan didn't want to travel if it meant pulling Cindy out of school, and didn't want to leave her alone, and I know you'd be the same way about me.  But if we were all together, then if you an' him were out of town for a bit, working, then me an' Cindy would have each other to lean on."

"That's a good point, Tina."

"And the whole idea of the TWO of us both studying the same courses…"

"You start out with your own study group."

"And a couple of interested males who've already done it."  She reached over and touched my sleeve.  "You ARE giving it serious thought, aren't you?"

"Yes, I am, sugar. I have some ideas."

"Good!  You know your business.  I think Dan does, too.  You two should be compatible.  I mean, look at your choice in wives…"  another sassy smirk.

For the remainder of the flight we talked about a wide range of subjects, as was normally the case.  

Snow.  Little girls from south Louisiana don't know about snow.  We flew over miles of it, result of the cold front that provided us with the clear skies – good, and the headwind – not so good.  The bare trees of winter stood in stark contrast to the white blanket on the ground.  The winter up to this point had been a revelation to her.

We landed in early afternoon, topped off the fuel tanks and put the plane away.  She had the car idling , warming up as we closed the hangar up.

When I got in, she flipped open her cellphone.  "Callin' my sister to tell her we made it home okay."  She held it to her ear.  "Hi, Sis!  We're home, too."  Pause.  "Yeah, it was a good flight."  Pause.  "Okay!  Email.  Phone.  Keep in touch, 'kay?" Pause.  "Yeah, Love ya, sis!  Bye!"

Leaving me to parse the 'Love ya, Sis' comment.  The girls just MIGHT be serious.

Her car.  She drove us home.  Mizz Lillian was at the office.  We stopped in.

She smiled when she saw us.  "You got stuck from the weather, I guess," she said.

"Couldn't fly home yesterday.  Little plane doesn't do rain an' ice."  Tina smiled.  "You gotta know it killed us to stay an extra night."  She gave Lillian the short version of the story of our unexpected meeting.

"That's really somethin'," Lillian said.

We retired to our little trailer and unloaded our bags., making the needed effort to put things away in their proper place.  Her dress and my suit, those went into the hanging closet with the promise of hauling them off to the dry cleaner's early in the week.  The heater finally brought our little trailer up to living temperature and we sat on the sofa.

"How about some coffee?" she asked.

"Wonderful.  Then we can decide about dinner?"

She was puttering around, making kitchen noises, making coffee.  "Do you mind if we do dinner at that catfish place tonight?  I don't feel like cooking…"

"Neither do I," I said.  "that sounds like a good idea."

"We can go back to bein' all frugal tomorrow," she said.  "I can put some beans on to soak tonight, and put 'em in the slow cooker tomorrow before I leave for school."

"That'll work," I said.  "How're we sitting on that good sausage we brought back with us?"

"I think we have a couple of links left.  We may have to fly back and import some more."

"Two hundred dollars' worth of gas for ten pounds of sausage."  I laughed at the thought.

"My guy deserves his luxuries."

"You are my luxury, little one," I laughed.

To kill the hour or so before we could go to dinner, we dressed up for the twenty-degree air and the wind chill and made a couple of laps, walking around the park.  This time there were no denizens outside to greet us.

"We need to do a couple of nights at the gym, sweetie," she said.  "We sort of indulged this weekend.  You don't want a fat little wife."

"I could stand a fat little wife a lot better'n you could stand a middle-aged engineer with a heart attack," I said.  "Yeah, let's plan on that tomorrow, before dinner.  An hour, then come back home and eat beans and rice."

"Exercise kills my appetite," she said.

"Just for food, I hope," I said, exaggerating a leer.

"Just for food. That other THING…" she giggled, "I NEVER stop wanting YOU."

Finishing two laps, we went into the trailer, warmed back up, stretched out on the sofa together for a while, then it was time to hit the road for dinner.

"Let's take the truck," I said.  "I need to drive it."

"'Kay, baby doll," she said.

"Okay," I said.  "Lemme go get it warming up."  I ducked outside, started the truck up, then came back in. We sat for a few more minutes, talking, then got in the truck for the drive to the restaurant.

Tuesday evening wasn't a big crowd night.  Half the dining area was empty, the staff trying to concentrate their attentions on the few tables in the other half.  We were frequent clients and ordered quickly, then conversed with the half-busy waitress during the course of our meal.

I kept turning my attention to the noise coming from another table.  The occupants were three males, the oldest maybe early twenties, a big guy, the next one younger, obviously a relative, judging from the hair and face, probably a brother, and the third was about the same age as the second, slighter build.  And they were loud. 

I could see a pretty good reason for them getting loud.  The oldest one kept producing a pint bottle of clear liquid, dumping it liberally into their glasses.  And they kept getting louder and rowdier and the language became a little bit too coarse for a family restaurant.

"That loud one's in school with me," Tina said.  "Real trash.  Always in trouble."

That was the middle one .  He turned to our waitress.  "Where's our gahdamned food?"  He looked at his partners and added, only slightly lower, "bitch!"

That was all it took.  The manager came out.  "You boys need to leave.  You disturbin' my other customers actin' all loud like that!"

"Ain't got our GAHDAMNED FOOD!" the middle one said, obviously the most inebriated of the trio.

The manager stood his ground, though.  "You boys need to leave.  Just go.  Don't make me have to call the law!"  Behind his back he wiggled a finger.  The waitress caught the signal and stepped behind the partition and picked up the phone.

I passed my hand around my waistband under my jacket and felt the grip of my little carry pistol.  If…

The older of the three looked at the manager and saw enough resolve to make a decision.  "Len," he said, "Let's just git outta dis chickenshit place."  He stood.  The third guy got up, then finally, the middle one.

I was tensed.  Tina saw it.  Her hand touched my arm, her eyes watching mine.  I shook my head imperceptibly.  She caught the tiny movement.

The loud guy stood up and jerked the tablecloth off the table, bringing the settings to a crash on the floor.  "Assholes!" he spat.  "Le's git outta here!"  His walk out the door was erratic.

We gave them a few minutes, then paid our own check and got up to leave.  I should've waited longer.

When we walked out into the parking lot, the trio were standing by a jacked up pickup truck, passing the glass bottle around.  My truck was on the opposite side of the lane through the parking lot.  I thought that we were safe, but I still motioned Tina to walk on my left, putting me between her and them.

They saw us.  The mouthy one waved and elbowed the big guy.  "See thet?!?!?  Thet's thet Loosey-anna gal!  She's too damn' good to talk to me at school."  He started walking in our direction.  I turned to face him.

"Friend," I said, "Why don't you go back over with your buddies."

"Naw, mannnn," he said, slurring his speech.  "I wanna just talk wit' dat Loosey-anna gal!"

"She's with me, and she doesn't want to talk," I said, trying to defuse the situation.  I let him get too close.

He reached out, grabbing the front of my jacket. He was my height, my weight.  Younger.  And pretty darned drunk.  When he reached, he spread his legs for a bit of stability.  He had his right hand on my jacket.  And his legs were spread.  I stepped back, slapping his arm away and picking up my right leg vigorously. The toe of my boot connected with his crotch.

The sneer on his face disappeared as he folded double.  I did a second kick, connecting with the side of his head, laying him out on the pavement.

His big (same height, carrying another thirty pounds of flab) buddy came my way, fast.  I could imagine that these two never had much resistance from their bullying, because he came at my with his arms spread, intent on some sort of wrestling, bear hug, sort of move.  Arms spread.  My right arm extended, the knuckles of my hand fitting neatly beneath his chin, striking solidly on his larynx.  His shout of "Motherfu…" dissolved into strangled gurgling noises and he was down. 

The third guy was standing with his back against their pickup, his hands raised.  "Ain't done NOTHIN', mister!"

And the blue flashing lights entered the parking lot.

"Back away from me, baby," I hissed at Tina.

As the second police car pulled into the lot, I stood VERY still, my own hands up.

The officer in the first car was out, his pistol drawn.  "What's going on here?" he yelled.

Tina took that one. "These three guys attacked us in the parking lot!"

The second officer was out now.  Doofus number one was still writhing on the ground, holding his groin, groaning.  Doofus number two was another story.  He was gasping, his hands scrabbling at his throat.

"Better get him an ambulance," I said.  "He got punched in the throat."

"Brad, cover those guys." The first officer spoke into his radio mike, calling for an ambulance and emergency services.

Brad stayed vigilant at a distance.

The officer approached me, gun still drawn, a fact that made me VERY nervous.  "Who're YOU?"

"Alan Dean Addison.  And I'm carrying.  It's in my waistband on my left side."

The officer's eyes got wide.  "Brad, cover this guy.  He's packin'."  He approached me very cautiously.  "Hands behind your back, sir." As he worked around behind me.

I complied.  Felt the cold steel as he cuffed me.  Then he reached under my jacket and pulled my pistol.

"Round in the chamber.  Safety's on," I said.

He dropped the magazine and ejected the chambered round, picking it up off the pavement.  He looked at me. "ID?"

"In my wallet.  Right back pocket.  Louisiana driver's license and concealed carry permit."

"Ma'am," he said to Tina, "You with this guy?"

"Yessir," Tina said.  She was standing there, shaking, her arms wrapped around herself.  The crowd was filling the parking lot.  Alan and Tina had emptied another restaurant.

Emergency services arrived, two guys in turnout gear piling out of a rescue truck.  "Big guy got puched in the throat.  He's gonna need help quick," I said.

"Mister, you should've let 'im strangle.  That's Quincy Hossle.  An' his brother, Len."

"So these two…"

He looked at the blonde guy by the truck.  "Don't go away, Sammy.  You gonna get some a'this, too, yaknow…"

Sammy looked sad.

By this time, the ambulance had arrived, too. Now there was a crew working on ol' Quincy.  I always wondered how pleasant it was to get one of those airways inserted while you were conscious.  I guess I could ask ol' Quincy.  He had one.

Len was cuffed, sitting on the pavement in a puddle of his own aromatic puke.  I didn't know how much of that was from too much drink, and how much was from a vigorous tap in the cods.  I hoped it was more of the latter.

Sammy got a pair of plastic tie cuffs for his trouble.  He was sitting in the back of one of the patrol units.

Brad walked up to my officer.  "Willie," he said, "We need to call somebody to go to the hospital with Quincy.  They think he may be there for a while."

They were loading Quincy into the back of the ambulance.

Uh, Willie, is it?" I asked.  "D'ya think you could get me out of these things?" I turned my back toward him.

"Oh, yeah, sorry!" he said.

A few seconds later I was massaging my wrists.  Tina pushed up next to me.

"So what's the story?" Willie asked.

I explained.  Tina added her version.  The restaurant manager was there too, and he knew all the parties  involved.

"We were on our way," Willie said.  "If we'd've got here a little faster…"

"I'm just happy they didn't start more crap in my restaurant," the manager said.  "Mister Alan might've done us a favor, though…"

"Mister Alan," Willie said, "can you come down to the station and give us a statement?  And you too, Miss, uh…"  Willie looked at Tina.

"Tina Addison.  Alan's wife."  She said.  Her arms were wrapped around my left arm.  "We'll be there.  Follow you?"

"Yes, ma'am, that'll do.  Ya'll excuse me while I get this stinky bastard in my car.  Gonna have to get a trustee to hose the damn thing out, now.  I hate the smell of puke."

I watched Willie 'encourage' Len into the back seat of his patrol car.  Len seemed to have a bit of trouble walking.

When Willie got into his car and killed the flashers, Tina and I turned to get into our truck.  I had to shake hands with the manager and the waitress.  Tina got a hug from the waitress.  I got a smile.

We followed the patrol car to the police station.  Inside, I collected the forms to fill out for statements, and happily retrieved my pistol from Willie.  He looked at me as he handed me the magazine and the single cartridge.  

"Wouldn't've hurt my feelings too bad if you'd'a shot 'im," he said.

"Oh, yeah?" I asked.

"Yeah.  Bully.  Troublemaker.  His brother…"

"I know 'im from high school," Tina interjected.

"No, not any more," Willie said.  "Got expelled last week.  I don't think he's goin' back.  Two years in the tenth grade, an' that makes 'im the scholar of 'is family."

"What about that third guy?" I asked.

"Sammy?" Willie said?  "You watch those nature shows?  What's that little fish that hangs around sharks?  Got a suction cup on 'is head?"

"Remora?" Tina said.

"Yeah, that's it.  Remora.  Hangs around for the scraps from the big fish.  Loser.  He'll be out in the morning.  Misdemeanor public intoxication."

"The Hossle brothers?" I asked.

"Your statement.  Miss Tina's statement.  Folks in the restaurant.  Public intoxication.  Aggravated assault.  An' I'm sure that when we get their truck over here in the lot, we'll find us a little weed, maybe some meth, that kinda thing.  Keep 'em off the street for a couple years, at least."

"I'm relieved," I said.  "Bozos like that sometimes decide to get even…"

"Know whatcha mean," Willie said.  "You know how to use that gun?"

"Yessir," I said.  "And others."

"What about you, Miss Tina?"

Tina looked at me.  "No.  Alan's been meanin' to teach me."

"Teach 'er, Alan.  Lemme tell you where our range is at."  Willie sketched me a map.  "Not that she's gotta worry about the Hossles.  But you never know."

"I'll do that," I said.  "Hey, thanks!  For everything!"  I shook his hand and we left.

We got in the truck.  The adrenaline rush was over and I was shaking a little.  Tina punched me in the arm.

"Alan!  What IS it with you and restaurants?"

"I dunno," I said.  "Maybe I should stop meeting you at 'em!"

She flopped back against the seat of the truck.  "You did that with your hands…"

"And my feet," I said.  "Don't forget my feet."

"I didn't know… I mean, you don't, like, take classes…" she said.

"Used to.  Army days.  Kept it up for a long time.  Decided there were other things to do with my time."

"Baby, that's the second time you've saved me."

"You saved me right back, Tina."

"Not the same thing, baby.  And as far as THAT, we saved each other.  Wait'll I tell my SISTER!"




