by Robyn Carr
“I thought I’d move closer to my grandchildren,” Opal informed her.
“What about your step-children and step-grandchildren?” Nikki asked, trying to keep the pleading from her voice.
“We’re not close.”
Get a grip, Nikki told herself. Say nothing, do nothing and just stay calm. Just get up and slowly leave the room, go somewhere quiet, have a lot of alcohol, and think clearly until you pass out.
She walked into the kitchen in a daze, thinking about that syndrome in the animal world where a female has no instincts for mothering her offspring. It was a freak of nature and happened rarely, but maybe it could happen with humans, too. Maybe Opal had that same syndrome. Complicated by the I-Can’t-Think-Beyond-Myself one.
April was there, biting her lower lip nervously.
“You knew,” Nikki said.
“Look, she’s old and lonely.”
“April, you are fourteen years old. You are not allowed to be more mature than me.”
“It’s just that I don’t have all these issues with her.”
“Well, lucky you.”
“I think Mayer’s asshole kids rejected her.”
It was Nikki’s turn to bite her lip, because, oh, how she wanted to launch into richly deserved recriminations. Wasn’t it Opal who’d rejected Buck, and Nikki along with him?
She said nothing.
“But what if Grandma really isn’t well?” April asked. “What if she really doesn’t have all that much time?”
“She looks healthy enough to me,” Nikki said.
In Anoka, Carlisle closed the box holding the last of his father’s clothes to be given to the Salvation Army. He carried the box to the garage and stacked it neatly with the others for pickup the next day.
“Carlisle, can you come and eat with us now?” his aunt Julie called.
“Yes, coming,” he called back. “Just let me wash my hands.”
After the death of his father, Carlisle’s aunts had done a little “coming out” of their own. In typical Midwestern style, they had refused to get into a family brawl over whether Burt’s attitude toward Carlisle was appropriate, but the aunts had never favored ostracizing him. Now that Burt was gone, they took serious issue with their sister over that matter.
Carlisle had thought his aunts shared his mother’s views because he didn’t hear from them all that often. In fact, he didn’t hear from them because they didn’t hear from him. Now it was clear—Burt Bartlett had perpetrated a great conspiracy of misunderstanding.
It remained true, however, that his mother was enormously disappointed that he was gay. She’d rather he be straight, married and the father of several darling, towheaded children. But she admitted she wasn’t sure he’d rot in hell for it.
It was sad, Carlisle thought, that his father’s death should bring such a reunion. Being with his aunts again reminded him of how much he’d loved their attention when he was small. It was a pity he hadn’t known how much they had missed him; he might have spent more time with them over the years.
“There you are, darling,” his aunt Jo said. “Would you like a little tossed green salad with that soup, or half a tuna sandwich?”
“Whatever you’re having, Jo,” he said, taking a seat.
“Give him the sandwich—he needs the bread. He’s much too thin,” said Rayanne, who was not.
“I beg to differ, Rayanne. He’s not too thin, and I’ll bet his blood pressure and cholesterol are perfect.”
“Very close, actually,” he admitted.
“Your father could have taken a lesson from you,” Julie told him in a stage whisper.
Carlisle only smiled, thinking of his father spinning like a top in his grave.
He sat at the head of the table, the old oval-shaped kitchen table that had been in his mother’s kitchen since Carlisle was about twelve. When Burt was alive, he’d sit at the opposite end, Ethel beside him. But today, like many of the days since the funeral, Carlisle sat at the end, and the four sisters sat two on each side, yammering endlessly and good-naturedly while they ate. Every once in a while they’d draw him into their conversation, but they did quite well on their own if he had nothing to add.
Right after the funeral he had asked the most liberal of his aunts, Julie, if he had been wrong to assume the family wanted nothing to do with him because he was gay. “That was only Burt,” Aunt Julie had insisted. “No one wanted to argue with him or try to override him because, well, no one is quite so pigheaded as a conservative fundamentalist, and it just isn’t worth the trouble. But it was really only Burt.”
“No,” Carlisle insisted, “it was my mother, too. She even suggested it might not be such a good idea for me to come home to bury him.”
Aunt Julie had tsked. “My sister. I love her dearly, you know I do, but she’s never had the ability to speak her mind or stand up for what she believes. She’ll go along with the strongest person in the room. She was probably afraid Burt would sit up in the casket and scream at her.”
“But she loved him. I know she loved my father.”
“Probably.” Aunt Julie shrugged. “Still…”
Still…Ethel seemed to be doing very well with Burt gone and her sisters overstaying their welcome. In fact, Carlisle had never seen her so happy.
Carlisle had been in Anoka much longer than he had expected to be. Three weeks. At first it was the embrace of his family that drew him in and made him so comfortable. Then it was the knowledge that Nikki had her mother visiting in Las Vegas, so he knew the kids would have an adult around if they needed one, even if the adult was the rather childlike Opal. Finally, it was the Aries strike that lengthened his stay.
When it happened, Nikki had called immediately to tell him he shouldn’t worry about anything; as long as he wanted, he had a place in her home as the resident au pair. Now, even though Opal lingered in Las Vegas, Carlisle was thinking in terms of getting back, and he said so.
“Maybe you should spend some time with your sisters at their houses,” he suggested to his mother. “And although Nikki’s house can be a bit of a looney bin, I’m sure you would be made welcome if you decided to visit.”
“Oh, Carlisle, I don’t know that I’d fit in with your friends very well….”
He rolled his eyes.
“You should go, Ethel,” Julie said. “If only to see that your only son and his friends don’t all dress up like Cher and Barbra Streisand on Saturday nights.”
People were always speculating about the influence of strong women on young boys, turning them gay, Carlisle thought. Or the absence of a father figure doing the same. Here he had the salt of the earth mom and pop, strong dad and loving mom, and he could never remember a straight day in his life, and barely a happy one. But if these aunts had raised him away from the bigoted Burt, he was sure his entire life would have turned out differently.
“What do you suppose did it?” his mother asked him late one night as they had a cup of tea by the fire, her voice hushed even though no one was around to hear.
“Stop it, Mother. You can let yourself off the hook. I was born gay.”
“Thank goodness,” she said in a breath that sounded like a prayer.
Danny had taken Dixie out to dinner twice, and twice she had cooked for him. He had asked for her help in looking at houses and furniture so he could squeeze in a few lunches, as well, and even a Sunday brunch, after which he took her to see the Wynn art collection. He didn’t see her every day, but he at least talked to her daily. This had been going on since September, and it was edging near Thanksgiving. He thought about backing off soon. His feelings for her were getting so strong, the dreams so disturbing, that he was afraid if he let himself get any more involved, the pain was going to be unbearable in the end. And there would be an end. At some point she would be forced to break it to him that they were, and would forever be, only friends.
He just hadn’t thought it would come so soon.
It was late in the day and he decided to run by her of
fice as she was wrapping up work. There were always a couple of things he needed to speak with Nikki about, which made him appear less obvious. The director of training and the chief pilot worked closely together, which was very handy when the director of training had a huge crush on the chief pilot’s secretary.
As he neared Flight Ops, the silky sound of her Texas drawl floated down the hall and brought a smile to his lips. He stopped before going around the corner just so he could listen. “Here’s your in-processing package,” she was saying to a newly hired pilot. “Get measured for uniforms at this address, get your ID and health insurance materials from Human Resources, and training starts for you on Monday. Do you live in the area?”
“I haven’t relocated permanently yet, but I plan to. Maybe after Christmas.”
“We have a relocation expert with one of the real estate agencies in town and she’s very good. She helped me find my house. Her card’s in the packet if you’d like to talk to her.”
“I might do that. You’ve been a big help, Dixie. Can I buy you a drink after work?”
Stunned, Danny peeked around the corner. The guy was another one of those tall, dark and handsome types. He had both hands planted on her desk and was leaning toward her.
“I’m sorry, I have to decline,” she said sweetly.
“Come on, Dix, make an exception. I just want to show my gratitude, that’s all.”
“You’re very welcome. No thank you.”
“You’re gonna give me a complex, now….”
Danny ducked back around the wall, out of sight.
“That’s real sweet, but I’m sort of seeing someone.”
“Aw, damn. I bet he’s a pilot.”
“No, sir. I can’t be hooking up with the pilots I work with, now can I?”
“Lucky fool. Well, if it doesn’t work out, you know where to find me.”
The unexpected blow struck Danny and he felt an almost physical pain. But he regained his composure quickly, reminding himself that he had been expecting this all along. Crazy, he admonished himself, I was so crazy to let myself become infatuated with someone so stunning, so warm and wonderful.
Instead of going to Nikki’s office or dropping by Dixie’s desk, he left the building. He didn’t go back to the training facility or to the airport, but got in his car and drove up the south hills a little until he found a spot to park and watch the planes come in. And there he sat for a very long time, berating himself for indulging such delusions of adequacy, until long after the soft rays of the setting sun faded, and the colored lights of the city made a sparkling backdrop for the jumbo jets as they landed. Who was he but a short, dumpy, bald, aging pilot with big ears? Okay, so the rigors of starting up an airline had meant the loss of a pound or two, but he was still just a funny-looking guy. And she was a fabulously beautiful, witty, sexy, unattainable woman.
Not entirely unattainable, he reminded himself. While he was busy being a supportive friend, someone else had “attained” her.
He took out his cell phone and saw that it was dead—not very smart for someone in his position. He rummaged around in the glove box and found the charging connect. As soon as he plugged it into the cigarette lighter, he was rewarded with a couple of beeps. Messages.
There was a response from an instructor he hoped to interview, and a call from Nikki about a check ride she needed him to give a pilot the following week. She also wanted to see him first thing in the morning about some new hires. And then came Dixie’s sexy purr. “Hey, Danny, you must be all tied up if your phone’s off. I was hoping you’d be able to come over for dinner. Nothing fancy. But I wanted to tell you something so I figured I could feed you, too. Give me a call.”
There it was, he thought. She was going to tell him about her lover. Dixie wasn’t stupid—she must know by the way he gazed at her like a lovesick boy that he was mad for her. She must want to make sure they understood each other before he lost control and turned into some kind of crazed stalker.
Uncharacteristically, he didn’t call her. He just went straight to her house, trying unsuccessfully to get that hangdog look off his pathetic face. When she came to the door he was standing there, staring down, hands in his pockets.
“Hey, you,” she said, smiling all over. “Get in here.”
He stepped into the house but stayed in the little foyer. “I really can’t stay, Dix. But you said you had something to tell me.”
“I sure do, but it’ll go down better with a glass of wine. Come in.”
“Naw, that’s okay. Just give me the bullet.”
“What’s the matter with you?”
He shrugged. “Nothing. I just let myself get a little behind. I have to get back to the office.”
“You?” she said with a laugh. “Come on. You’re more efficient than anyone over there.” She turned and walked away from him and it was pure torture. She wore a pair of snug jeans, a fitted knit shirt that barely reached the waist of her jeans, and no shoes. The rhythm of her hips and the bounce of her golden hair as she moved toward the kitchen almost made him cry. “Well, if you’re going to be a spoilsport, fine. But I have a glass of wine calling me, so you’ll just have to be a little less rushed.”
He followed her. What else was he going to do? He was, if anything, a gentleman. But this was tough. He genuinely hoped she wouldn’t drag it out.
“I found out, just before I left work today, that Bob Riddle went around Nick and hired some Aries pilots—without even goin’ through Eric and the hirin’ committee. She is so pissed, but wait till you hear who.”
This was why they were such good friends, he reminded himself. They were equally involved in this whole company and all its people, including the politics and gossip. He could almost forget she was about to break his heart. “Who?”
Without asking him again, she poured him a glass of the wine he liked, which she kept stocked, and handed it to him. “They’re all three very active union guys, but one of them is that useless Texan, Branch Darnell.”
His eyes almost popped out. He took a sip of his wine.
“Hah! I knew I could tempt you to a drink, at least.”
“Dix, don’t worry about my feelings. Just lay it on me. Are you seeing Branch again?”
“Seeing him? Have you lost your mind? It takes all my willpower to keep from killing him. I can’t believe that sleazy devil managed to get a job here! If he’d come across the chief pilot’s desk, no way. No effing way.” She took a sip. “But Nick has asked me to try to be mature, because the one we’re going to have killed is Riddle.” She clinked his glass. “Now, stay for dinner with me. I shouldn’t be alone when I’m homicidal.”
“Oh, Dix,” he said, shaking his head sadly. “I overheard you before. When that guy asked you out. And you told him you were seeing someone….”
“Hmm? You were eavesdropping on me?” She went to the stove, unperturbed, and lifted a lid. Something smelled wonderful.
“Well, I don’t want to get in the middle of…You know. I shouldn’t be hanging around so much.”
She turned back to face him and laughed. “Danny! What are you saying?”
“You have a guy. I need to spend a little less time with you. He’s going to get jealous. I mean, I probably would.”
She just shook her head, dumbfounded. “So who do you think I’m seeing, Danny?”
“I have absolutely no idea.”
“I realize that. And frankly, it’s getting to be a problem.”
“Huh?”
“I thought I was seeing you.”
This was way too much for his very small brain. It was simply not possible. “But you said it wasn’t a pilot,” he ventured, trying to get her to deny it.
“What did you expect me to say? I don’t really like being secretive, but I did promise Nikki I wouldn’t get involved with any pilots. It’s just that…Well, I hope I’m not being an idiot again, but I thought you were different. And this has been moving very, very slowly, which gave me time to really be sure you�
�re different.” She walked toward him, took his glass out of his hand and put both their wineglasses on the table. “I think I’ve been very patient.” She laced her hands around the back of his neck, and placed a very sweet kiss on his mouth.
His mind was reeling. “But…” He swallowed hard. “This just isn’t possible,” he said, shaking his head.
She looked at him in confusion. “Not possible for who? You?”
He began to blink rapidly, nervously. “I…ah…I just can’t…” He gulped again, but it felt as if there was a golf ball in his throat. He tried to think. It couldn’t be him she was thinking of. He would only disappoint her. Embarrass her. This wasn’t what he’d expected at all.
“Danny, are you seeing someone? I didn’t think you were—”
“No!” he nearly shouted. “It’s not—” His mouth had gone so dry he could hardly speak. He began to sweat. And tremble. Did she noticed the sweating and trembling?
“Are you gay?” she demanded.
“Well, no,” he said, but he realized he hadn’t said it very convincingly. For just a split second it occurred to him that might be a good way to go—tell her he was gay. That way she’d move along to some high-and-handsome dude she’d be proud to be seen with. Because this way, if he caved, she was only going to look at him one day and ask herself what she’d been thinking. But he said, “No, I’m not gay, I’m just not—”
He tried to seize the words. Right for you? Good enough for you?
“What is it?” she asked, a touch of anger in her voice.
He wiped his sleeve over his sweating bald head and gave an embarrassed chuckle. “You sure took me by surprise.”
“I did? How can you be surprised? We’ve been seeing each other for months. I know we haven’t been very physical, and to tell you the truth, that part’s been real hard for me. But it was the right thing to do because it gave me time to get to know your heart, without being biased by a lot of great sex.”
She laughed—half little girl, half seductress—and came toward him again, her hands reaching for him.
“No!” he said, and he startled her. The look on her face was one of utter shock. And hurt. He wanted to tell her that this wasn’t right, wasn’t a good decision, but he didn’t know how. She was so incredible; she wasn’t supposed to get involved with someone like Danny. He was a realist; he knew what his talents were. He was a good pilot, a good instructor, a good manager of people, but he wasn’t a good date. He wasn’t a great lover, and Dixie deserved a great lover. The truth was, he had barely any experience at all, and the last time he was with a woman was so long ago he could hardly remember it. He didn’t want to go along with this lunacy, only to have to live with regrets later. “You’re just lonely, Dixie. That’s all.”