Firstborn. Lindsay McKenna
Oh, I’m so glad you called! Is everything all right? We didn’t hear from you last week.”
“Yeah, I’m fine, Mom. I’m sorry I didn’t phone.”
“Are you all right?” She hastily wiped her hands on a kitchen towel, frowning at the note of trepidation she heard in her son’s voice. Leaning against the counter, she watched Kamaria, who was now beating the spoon against the table in time with a jaunty ragtime song.
“Uh, yeah…fine. Is…Father around?”
Sighing, Laura said, “No. He’s still at Perseus.”
“Oh…good.”
Pain flitted through Laura’s heart. “He loves to hear from you, too, Jason. I wish you’d stop avoiding him. I don’t like having to give him secondhand information from you all the time.”
“Yeah, I know, Mom. Sorry. Maybe someday…”
She knew better than to push her son. He took after her husband, Morgan, in so many ways. Both of them had a stubborn pride that made them unapproachable on certain issues, especially old, oozing wounds that had never healed. She moved to the sink, cradling the phone between her head and shoulder. Picking up a knife, she began to slice an apple for the Waldorf salad she was going to make for lunch. “Well, how goes it? Are you getting a lot of flying hours in? Last I heard, you were unhappy because you weren’t getting them.”
“Yeah…well, Mom, some things have changed. That’s why I didn’t call earlier.”
She held the knife suspended above the apple. “What do you mean, Jason? What’s changed?” The last time he’d used those words, he’d been abruptly transferred out of Fort Rucker to an Apache squadron in Fort Collins, Colorado. Heart sinking, Laura wondered what had happened now. Somehow, Jason’s life was dogged by bad luck. Not that he didn’t bring some of it on himself, she knew. Her son wasn’t perfect, no matter how Morgan wished he were.
“Well, Mom, I’m in a new squadron. The 101st Airborne. How about that? The Screamin’ Eagles. The cradle of Army aviation. I’ve been assigned to the Eagle Warrior Squadron here at Fort Campbell, Kentucky.”
“That’s unexpected, Jason. What happened?” Her voice was low and hesitant. In the back of her mind, Laura knew Morgan would be upset. Unless his military cronies had already called him about this transfer and Morgan hadn’t told her yet. He’d do that, too, because he knew she’d be worried about Jason. Ever since he’d been kicked out of Annapolis, his life had gone from bad to worse.
“I, uh…well, I demanded a transfer and got it.”
“But…you seemed happy with your old squadron.”
“I know….”
“Why, Jason? What happened?” Laura set the knife and apple aside. She turned to keep an eye on Kamaria, who was sucking contentedly on the spoon now that the song had ended.
“I just couldn’t get along with the pilot I was assigned to fly with.”
She heard the frustration in his voice. “But you didn’t get along with the first one, either. That’s two pilots, isn’t it? Jason, what is happening?” She tried to keep the worry out of her voice, but Laura knew it wasn’t working. Gnawing on her lower lip, she felt her heart breaking once more for her son. She was no newbie to the military system. In fact, Laura had been a military writer for decades, and continued to publish articles within high-command military circles. She knew the dope on transfers as well as anyone. And Jason hadn’t been at Fort Collins long enough to ask for—and receive—a transfer unless something had gone terribly wrong.
“I just didn’t get along with them, Mom. That’s all.”
Laura heard the steely defensiveness in her son’s deep voice. Once more he was putting up walls to keep her out. “And they let you transfer? Again?” Laura knew the service would not tolerate something like this for long. She was surprised he’d gotten a transfer at all. And she knew he wasn’t telling her the whole truth. Jason was hedging. He always did when the news wasn’t good.
“Yeah, they did. Things look good, though. You’ll never guess who I’ve been assigned to.”
Hearing the hope in his voice, Laura smiled softly. “Tell me.”
“I’ll be flying with a female pilot, Mom. CWO2 Annie Dazen is her name. She’s a full-blood Apache from Arizona. How about that? She’s one of a handful of women who have ever made it through Apache school, and she was at the top of her class, from what Colonel Dugan told me. He’s my C.O. now, by the way.”
“A woman. Well, maybe you can get along with her?” Laura chuckled, and she heard Jason give a strained laugh. Her heart lifted. Oh, how she wanted him to have good things happen!
“I’m going to try,” Jason said, becoming serious once more. “I’m assigned to the B.O.Q. right now. That’s temporary. I want to give you Dazen’s phone number, because her office is my office, in case you need to reach me. You got a paper and pen?”
Laura turned and pulled out a small plastic box that sat next to the wall phone. “Yeah, go ahead, honey.” Taking out an index card, she wrote down the number he gave her.
“I’ll be in touch, Mom. I’ll call you next week, okay?”
“Okay. You sound good, Jason. Better than I’ve heard you sound in the last year.”
“Maybe this new pilot will be good for me.”
“Do you like her?”
“I don’t dislike her. She was real friendly and warm toward me when we met.”
“Do you think she knows about your past?”
“I don’t know. If she does, she isn’t showing it. At least, not yet. But we just made intros, so I really don’t know.”
“What does she look like? Is she married? Have kids?” Nowadays, the Army was family. Back in the sixties, most people in the service had been single. Now it was made up of married couples and families—a huge change for the military to adjust to.
Jason laughed. “I haven’t a clue. She wasn’t wearing a wedding ring, but in our business, we don’t wear jewelry when we fly.”
“Well, find out, okay?”
“Mom, you are so nosy sometimes!”
She laughed a little. Kamaria waved the spoon and Laura lifted her hand and waved back. “I’m a woman, dear, and those things are important to us. What does Ms. Dazen look like? You said she was Indian?”
“Yeah, she’s tall and well proportioned, from what I can see. She probably lifts weights. There’s no fat on her. But she isn’t a twig, either. There’s some meat to her bones.”
“Black hair? Copper skin?”
“Yeah, that, too. Nice eyes.”
Laura heard his tone of voice thaw a little. Her heart thumped with hope. Oh, please, God, let Jason get along with this woman. Let there be peace, not war between them.
“What color? Brown?”
“Golden color, really. I can see her pupils in them. She has large, alert eyes, Mom. In some ways, she reminds me of an owl. Not because of the shape of her eyes, but that gold-yellow color. Remember that great horned owl that used to nest in the pine trees on the east side of our home?”
“Oh, Miss Lucy. Sure.” Laura had named the huge brown-and-white owl that used to roost high above their two-story cedar home in the woods.
“Eyes like that. Pretty.”
“Sounds as if you like her already.”
“Well…I wouldn’t go that far, Mom. She’s okay. She’s friendly and seems to want to make me feel at home.”
“That’s a