The Top Gun's Return

by Kathleen Creighton

  Sammi June said dryly, "I got a message saying you'd been in a motorcycle accident, Dad."

  "Sorry." He made a face, a wry grimace. "That was your mother. As you can see, it's no big deal."

  She tilted her head to one side and studied him, and all the time she was intensely aware of the third person in the room. She could feel his eyes touching her. Really touching her. "You look like you tried to break up a cat fight," she said. "What'd you do, land in a patch of kudzu?"

  He made that face again. "Worse-blackberries."

  "Ouch. You must not've been wearing a helmet. Shame on you." She touched a cut on his forehead, and at the same time had a self-conscious sense that she was playing a part-concerned daughter, poised and completely adult-for an audience of one.

  She was mildly surprised when her dad seemed to accept her in the role. He made that wry face yet again and said, "Yeah…that was stupid." Then, with a softening smile, he was back in the daddy mode. "Honey, as you can see, I'm gonna live. You might as well go on back to school. Hey-you didn't skip any classes, I hope."

  "Just finished my last final," she said, with a little toss of her head-and again, intensely aware of the second listener just outside the range of her peripheral vision. "I'm all packed, actually. I was getting ready to load up my stuff when I got Mom's message. So…guess I'll be home in a little while."

  "Great," her dad said, and added, as if it had just occurred to him, "Hey, do you have any plans for this weekend? It's Memorial Day weekend, right? I've got the use of a lake house, ski boat included, over on Lake Russell. I was thinking we could all go. In fact-Cory, why don't you stay on, join us?"

  It seemed to Sammi June that there was a long, shimmering silence between the question and its answer. I won't look at him. I don't want him to think I care. And…why do I? He's Dad's friend, not mine.

  "Let's see…what's today, Thursday? I still have some loose ends to tie up in Atlanta, but I guess I can do that tomorrow morning, be back by early tomorrow evening. Will that be okay?"

  "Sounds good," said her dad. "Then we can all head over to the lake together Saturday morning. How 'bout you, Sammi June?"

  She shrugged and said, "Sure. I guess. Why not?"

  Cory Pearson looked at his watch. "Well-I'd better be heading on back to Atlanta." He stepped forward and took her dad's hand in a two-handed, buddy-type handshake. "Take care of yourself, Lieutenant." From behind the lenses of his glasses, blue eyes touched hers briefly, and Sammi June felt a sensation something like a shiver. "So-I guess I'll be seeing both of you tomorrow." And then he was gone.

  And now, alone with her dad and without the audience she'd been playing to, Sammi June found that she didn't know what to say. Her audience had left, but so had the distraction he'd provided, and without it she was once more forced to cope with the feelings she'd brought into the room with her. Feelings she didn't want to express because they made her feel much too vulnerable, too much like the child she was trying so hard not to be: Daddy, don't you dare leave me again! Please…I don't know what to do with you in my life, but I don't know what I'd do without you, either.

  "Okay," she said, all brisk and light and perky, leaning to kiss his cheek, "if you're sure you're all right, I'm gonna be going, too. Gotta get packed. See you at home-later, okay?"

  It was only when she got outside of the cubicle that she realized her heart was racing. As she strode through the E.R., she fluffed her hair with her fingers and gave herself little settling-down shakes, the way she did when she was taking her position on the soccer field, just before play began, to rid herself of nervous jitters and butterflies, and by the time she burst through the automatic sliding door and into the warm, muggy afternoon, she was feeling calmer. Until she saw that Cory Pearson was standing beside her bike, obviously waiting for her.

  "Hey," she said, by way of a greeting, giving no sign of the sudden jolt she'd just felt under her ribs.

  He smiled, squinting a little in the bright sunshine. "Thought this might be yours." He tilted his head toward the bike leaning drunkenly against the handicapped signpost. "Figured I'd better get directions to your place, if I'm going to be going there tomorrow."

  "Sure," said Sammi June. "No problem." She bent over to unlock her bike, and was way too aware of the way her top separated from her jeans when she did that-only a couple inches of skin, probably, but she felt almost naked. She straightened, glad to have an excuse for her red face. "Got a piece of paper? You're gonna probably want to write this down-it's kind of in the middle of nowhere."

  "In the car." She started walking, and he walked along beside her, the bicycle between them. He glanced at it, then at her and said, "Can I give you a lift back to your dorm?"

  She gave a little snort of laughter. "That'd be great, actually. It's all uphill going back-and I mean a long way uphill." She paused, then said ruefully, "I didn't exactly stop to think things through when I left. I just sort of…jumped on my bike and took off."

  "You were worried about your dad," Cory said with a shrug. "That's understandable."

  "Yeah," said Sammi June, "I was." There was a quivery mass of emotion in her chest all of a sudden-the same one that had been there a moment ago when she'd faced her dad alone in the E.R., and that she hadn't wanted him to know about. Now, to her very great surprise, she heard herself saying to Cory, "It's really weird, you know? I mean, it's so strange and awkward, having him suddenly back in my life. I don't really know how to talk to him…how to act with him. And then, when I think about losing him all over again, I just about…I can't even…" She swallowed and jerked her face away from the eyes she could feel watching her, studying her-keen, blue eyes, and much too intent.

  "Not strange at all," the owner of the eyes said gently, and she let go of an odd little gust of relieved laughter.

  Chapter 15

  They had stopped beside a nondescript tan-colored car. Cory took keys from his pocket and unlocked the trunk, then took hold of the bike by its handlebars. Sammi June took hold of the back wheel. They both lifted, then looked at each other.

  "Think…mine's gonna have to go in first," Sammi June said.

  "Okay," said Cory, "here we go. No, here…okay, this way-"

  After a couple of false starts they managed to get most of the bike wedged into the trunk. They ended up standing side by side, so close to each other that Cory's shirtsleeve was brushing Sammi June's bare arm. Then, instead of moving apart and going their separate ways, they both went on standing there, not moving…neither of them saying anything. And somehow, although neither of them appeared to move a muscle, she could feel the space between them growing smaller, until it wasn't just his sleeve that was touching her arm, but the warm, firm muscle under it, as well. She felt her heart stumble, and heat envelope her. Her breath seemed to catch on something sharp inside her chest.

  "I think that's got it," Cory finally said in an odd, strangled-sounding voice, and suddenly the warm place along the side of Sammi June's arm felt abandoned and cold.

  "It's not very far-just up at the top of the hill." She went around to the passenger side of the car and got in, while he did the same on the driver's side. Their doors made twin slams, and then they were both busy settling in, buckling up.

  Cory started the car and drove out of the hospital parking lot. He made a careful left and they headed up the long hill. Sammi June, her heart still thumping crazily, tried to think of something to say.

  "So," Cory said after they'd gone a few blocks, looking over at her while they waited at a traffic light, "your dad calls you Sammi June?"

  She made a disparaging sound. "Most people do."

  He nodded thoughtfully. "I like it. It's cute."

  She threw him a look. "Yeah, but I'm eighteen years old. 'Cute' isn't exactly the image I'm going for right now, okay?"

  He laughed. The light changed, and he drove on. They covered a few more blocks. At the next stoplight he turned to her and said, "How do you feel about Sam?"

  Behind the g
lasses, his eyes were that incredible, intense blue. As she gazed into them, Sammi June realized that what she felt was afraid. It reminded her of when she was a little girl and her parents had moved around so much. This was the way she'd felt standing in the doorway, about to go into a new classroom, a new school. On the brink of something scary and unknown. "I assume you mean, as a nickname?" she said, and then shrugged. "It's okay." A smile hovered. "I kind of like it, actually."

  "Okay, then. I'll call you Sam." The light changed. The eyes shifted away from her, and she could breathe again, but only in quivery, shallow breaths.

  After that, neither of them spoke again until they reached the dorms. Then Sammi June told Cory where to turn and where to park in the visitors' section of the parking lot. Since it was moving day, they were lucky to find one, happening along just as someone else was pulling out.

  Although she didn't really need him to, and certainly didn't expect him to, Cory turned off the motor and got out to help her wrestle her bike out of the trunk. When the bike was once more upright with both wheels on the ground, Sammi June flexed her fingers on the handlebars in a fidgety sort of way and thought about saying goodbye. The thought made her heart stumble and her breath grow shallow.

  Before she could make the words come out of her mouth, Cory smiled at her and said, "How 'bout those directions, now?"

  She flipped back her hair-casual, composed-and said, "Oh, sure. Got a pencil?"

  He opened the back driver's side door, took out a laptop computer and set it on the hood of the car. "Oh, cool," said Sammi June, as he opened it and booted it up. She told him her parents' address, phone number and directions to their house, and watched over his shoulder while he entered the information into the laptop. She was thinking that she really liked the way he smelled, and was trying hard not to sniff audibly.

  When he finished he closed the laptop and put it back in the car, then turned to her, smiling in an odd sort of way. Reluctantly, she wondered Could it be…? And her heart gave a sickening lurch, because she knew that now he was going to have to say goodbye, and probably tell her something like…he guessed he'd see her tomorrow. But all at once, tomorrow seemed an eternity away.

  "I don't suppose," she heard herself say, in a disgustingly breathless, eager voice, "you'd like to help me load my stuff in my truck?"

  His eyebrows went up and he said warily, "I don't know, how much stuff are we talking about?" But she could see that his eyes were laughing.

  She gave him a sly, sideways look. "Oh…you know, the usual-clothes, books…computer."

  "Uh-huh." He was gazing up at the dorm. "Which floor?"

  "Fifth-but there's an elevator."

  Muttering, "Why do I get the feeling I've been had?" he locked up the car and pocketed the keys while Sammi June stood by, holding her bike and grinning with an irrational joy.

  They walked toward the dorm, one on either side of the bicycle, neither of them in any hurry. Halfway there, Cory looked over at her and asked somberly, "Is this a test?"

  She repeated it, not understanding, and as she did, she felt her gaze collide with his and stick like glue. It seemed impossible to pull away from those terribly intent, all-too-perceptive eyes.

  "To see if I'm young enough to keep up with you?" he said, and smiled.

  Sammi June laughed, and in the warmth of that smile, felt all her fears of a short while ago fade away, like fog in the sunshine.

  * * *

  Jessie closed the lid of the old-fashioned hard-type suitcase, snapped the latches shut and straightened. What else? Had she forgotten anything? Tristan had assured her the lake house was completely furnished and fully equipped, but Jessie was taking no chances. She'd filled Momma's old suitcase with sheets, towels and cleaning supplies, just in case. Food, though, was another matter. She had no idea what to take, or how far from grocery stores and restaurants this lake house was. She was going to have to ask Tris, she realized with a sigh.

  She stood gnawing on her lip and thinking dejectedly about that, and how awkward and uncomfortable things still were between them-Jessie tiptoeing around like a hunter trying not to wake up a sleeping rhinoceros, and Tristan being determinedly upbeat in an effort to convince her she had no cause to worry about him. Would things ever be right and easy for them again? There were barriers between them-huge barriers, impenetrable as the prison walls he'd supposedly left behind.

  A tiny movement drew her eyes to the window, where two people were coming along the lane from the direction of the woods. Sammi June and Cory, back from an introductory tour of the place. As Jessie watched the two of them walking together, side by side, not touching, she felt an odd little ripple in her belly. Emotions stirred through her-not alarm or dread or dismay, exactly…and maybe there was even some happiness in the mix, and excitement, too-the kind of emotions that make a mother smile misty-eyed and at the same time tremble in fear. My daughter's in love. The body language was unmistakable. And unless she was very much mistaken, the feeling was mutual. Like mother, like daughter, she thought.

  * * *

  Tristan was on the front porch, enjoying the soft feel of humidity on his skin, thinking how much he'd missed this, the gentle easing of Southern springs into muggy summers…distant rumblings that weren't bombs or tanks but only friendly afternoon thundershowers…whippoorwills calling and bats swooping in the dusk. I'm a lucky man, he thought as he watched his daughter and the man responsible for his resurrection come toward him across the just-mowed lawn. A lucky, lucky man. And Cory's right-I need to stop dwelling on the past and start thinking about the future. Particularly on how I'm gonna make a future with my wife and child.

  As always, when he thought about that, he felt doubts come to cloud his vision and darken his soul. The future? But I can't even figure out where I fit into their lives here and now.

  But now he shook them off and called out, "Hey, 'bout time you guys decided to come home. Sammi June, I was just about to talk to your mother about food."

  Behind him, the screen door banged, and Jessie said, "That's good, because I was about to ask you the same thing. What are we gonna take with us tomorrow?"

  Tristan smiled at her and shrugged. "I don't know-the usual stuff, I guess. Hamburgers, hotdogs…chicken. We can stop at a grocery store on the way…pick up whatever we need. No, I was thinking more in terms of now. Tonight. What're we doing for dinner? Barbecuing? Sandwiches? Or-does your mother have something exotic planned?"

  "Momma's got a church thing," Jessie said. "They're fixin' to spend tomorrow sprucing up the cemetery, like they do every Memorial Day weekend, so I guess this evening's the planning session. Anyway, they're havin' a pot-luck supper at the church, so we're on our own."

  "Well," said Sammi June, "don't worry about us." Tristan turned his head to look at her. She and Cory were standing at the bottom of the steps, side by side, not looking at each other. And it occurred to Tristan all at once that, even in the dwindling light, her eyes seemed to be glowing. He felt an odd little vibration begin, just behind his breastbone.

  "Cory and I are going out," Sammi June announced.

  Tristan frowned. Behind him he heard Jess make a soft, wordless sound, like a cough. "What do you mean 'out'?"

  "I mean, out-out." Now she did look at Pearson, and not only were her eyes glowing, so were her cheeks.

  Tristan's heart gave a sickening lurch. In that moment she reminded him so much of someone…someone he'd known a long time ago… "Wait just a minute," he began.

  "We're gonna go into town, have dinner…maybe see a movie. Come on, Dad, it's my first day of vacation-I'm not gonna spend it sitting at home. Anyway-" she grinned wickedly and gave a kind of wiggle that made Tristan's hair stand on end "-I want to show Cory the local night-life. If he thinks he can handle it."

  Jess made a strangled sound that could have been laughter or dismay. Tristan opened his mouth, but couldn't think of a response, because in his mind he was trumpeting all sorts of dire paternal threats and proclamations, the k
inds of things fathers of daughters have always thought, but these days, at least, are seldom foolish enough to say out loud: Over my dead body! I'm gonna lock you in your room until you're forty and strangle with my bare hands any man who dares to touch you!

  "I don't think that's such a good idea," he mumbled at last, scowling, realizing he sounded more pouty than paternal. "You're gonna need to get up early tomorrow morning."

  Sammi June's laugh was incredulous. "Dad, hello. I'm used to studying until four in the morning, then getting up three hours later to take a test. It's not like I'm a child, can't be up past my bedtime."

  "That's not the point-"

  Cory leaned his head close to Sammi June's and murmured something to her under his breath. In response to which her chin jutted out and tilted upward, and her mouth took on a stubborn look her father well remembered. "The point is, Dad, I'm eighteen years old. You don't get to tell me what to do, okay?" With that, she stomped up the steps past him and into the house.

  After a moment's hesitation Cory followed her, looking unhappy and apologetic. When he got to the top of the steps where Tristan was, he paused and said, "Look, man, I-" Jess touched his arm and shook her head, and he bit back whatever it was he'd started to say and went into the house.

  When the door had closed behind them both, Tristan rounded on his wife and growled, "What the hell'd you do that for? Maybe I could've talked some sense into him, at least."

  "And then what? Make an enemy of your daughter?" Her tone was mild, but her voice sounded shaky, which set Tristan back momentarily.

  He scowled at her for a moment, then huffed in a disbelieving tone, "What, over a damn date?"

  She made an exasperated sound. "A date? For heaven's sake, Tris, that's not what this is about. Can't you see she's in love with him?"

  "In-" He gulped the word as if he'd been punched in the stomach with it. "What are you talking about? That's just…ridiculous. She's…hell, she's not old enough to be in love."