Chapter Two

 

 

Jackie Billings had reached the Columbus airport’s access road when she pulled her cell phone and called her husband. “Matt, I forgot to pack Jodi’s sheet music. You’ll need to run it over to your mom’s house tonight.”

“Okay, no problem,” came the distracted reply.

“Don’t forget.”

“I won’t forget, but it would help if you handled the stuff you’re supposed to handle. Things are a little crazy here.”

She absorbed the shot, knowing that Matt’s crew was deep into a complicated remodeling project for a fussy client. But things had been a little crazy in her life, too. “Sorry. Oh, and remind your mom to have Sean at the work project by nine.”

She heard his sigh. “Or maybe you could remind her; or maybe you could skip this whole damn trip thing and give me a little help.”

“C’mon, Matt, it’s only once a year.” The bank had downsized and her department was doing more work with three fewer people. She was an assistant den mother, a PTO treasurer, a Heart Association fundraiser, and the kids’ primary taxi driver. Matt worked twelve hours most days. And Sean had turned thirteen and discovered his own brand of maddening moodiness. She needed this break.

“It would help my attitude,” he grumbled, “if your damn geta­way didn’t include the sister-slut.”

Jackie decided to ignore Matt’s latest sister-shot, a theme grown tiresome. “Okay, honey, I’m at long-term parking. See you Sunday.”

 

With time to spare, Jackie Billings stopped by an airport newsstand and browsed the magazine rack. She hadn’t opened a Cosmopolitan for ten years, but she thumbed through a copy and decided to buy it. It felt like a gloriously free-spirited thing to do.

Jackie boarded TransSystem Airways Flight 223 and made her way toward seat 36B. She found her row completely filled, with a man of Asian ancestry firmly planted in her intended spot. “Ah, nah, B, B, B for use of my body,” he insisted.

An alert stewardess hurried toward them, while scanning some kind of computer report. “I’m so sorry for the inconvenience,” she said to Jackie. “There’s a seat available in first class. Let’s move you up there.” Pleasantly amazed, Jackie followed the stewardess through the blue veil of separation. “This window seat is empty,” said the young woman, gesturing toward the second row.

Jackie hoisted her carry-on into a roomy overhead compartment, glanced briefly at the maze of dials visible through the open cockpit door, exchanged greetings with a steward who looked to be about Sean’s age, and nestled into soft brown leather. After another minute or two surveying the trappings of the upper crust, Jackie slid Cosmo out of her shopping bag and began perusing. Someone settled in beside her, but she didn’t look up. A few minutes before take-off, the steward stopped beside their row. “Champagne for either of you?”

“Just coffee, please,” said the man next to her, his voice deep with just a hint of drawl.

“Ma’am?”

Jackie decided to fully enjoy her unexpected collision with luxury. “Sure, I’d love some champagne.”

She had sipped half the glass and was feeling pleasantly light-headed when the man said, “Learning anything useful?” She clenched her teeth and closed her eyes, feeling like a schoolgirl caught by the study-hall teacher. A two-page spread blared, Ten Ways to Titillate that Man of Yours.

She turned and looked into striking blue eyes. His hair was silver-gray, but the face was strong and an odd blend of weathered and youthful. She considered ignoring the question then searched for a clever reply. Nothing came to mind. “No. I mean nothing I care to—”

He chuckled, forming creases at his eyes and mouth that suggested habitual laughter. “No offense, but your cheeks are clashing with your blouse. It might help if you just wore white.”

Jackie smiled, but uneasily, not doubting a clash with her pink blouse. But she felt a twinge of anger. “I guess I’m just not used to sitting beside nosy men, but thanks for the fashion tip.” She looked away, realizing the comment was a conversational train wreck. The adult in Jackie Billings would happily return to her magazine, although she would flip to a new page. But she missed the part of her that could have chatted easily with an interesting man. She thought back to sorority parties where her sisters actually envied her sense of humor and quick one-liners. It had been a long time ago.

“My name’s Ted Aldrich. Sorry for the comment; I couldn’t resist.”

She turned toward him. His smile was friendly, showing strong white teeth. “I’m Jackie Billings, usually I’m…” She glanced toward her lap and closed the magazine. “I’m usually reading about something like wallpaper or petunias.”

“Titillation sounds more interesting than petunias, Jackie Billings.”

She nodded, ready for a halt. “Cosmo thinks so, anyway.”

She turned away, again assuming the conversation would end, but Ted Aldrich apparently wanted to chat. He began by asking whether she worked. They discussed her job at the bank and Matt’s job as head of Billings Construction. Soon she had shown him pictures of Jodi and Sean.

He said, “You sparkle when you talk about your kids.”

“I sparkle?”

“Yep, sparkle, and maybe glow a little.”

“Gosh, is that safe at thirty thousand feet?”

He smiled, laugh lines at full crinkle. “That was a good one, Mrs. Billings.”

“Thank you. I’m a little out of practice in the art of repartee.”

“Why’s that?”

She hesitated, but realized that she felt amazingly comfortable. “You might say my hubby keeps me on a pretty short leash, you know, socially.”

“Leashes don’t sound good.”

“I’m pretty well used to it.”

His expression turned quizzical, and doubtful. “But how do you feel about it?”

She leaned back for a moment, her mind a revolving slide show of Matt’s jealousy moments: some disappointing, some infuriating, and some absurd. But none felt shareable with Ted Aldrich. “I’m okay with it.”

He gave her a compassionate smile as if somehow he had seen her slide show. “I don’t know if this will help, but as a fellow male, I can understand why he’d be possessive. He married a real winner.”

She felt new warmth on her cheeks, appreciating the thought—at least the last part of it—but ready to duck. “How did you become a pilot?”

 

She learned that Ted was fifty-two, a Vietnam veteran who became a commercial pilot and now flew world routes. He had dreamed of flying since boyhood, and still loved the sense of freedom that soaring through the clouds gave him. He was deadheading, which he explained meant returning to Chicago to connect with his crew. He returned the conversation to her feelings about the joys and challenges of parenting. And she returned to a feeling of being energized, amazed to be so openly sharing her feelings.

The plane entered final descent into O’Hare, and Jackie found herself wishing that time hadn’t passed so quickly. While she gathered belongings, a stewardess hand-delivered a gold-striped jacket and cap. “See you around town, Captain Aldrich.”

He slipped into uniform, and they walked together through the long jet way and into the crowded concourse. He turned toward her and extended his hand. “It was wonderful meeting you, Jackie. Have a great life.”

She took his hand and shook formally, although aware that their eye contact didn’t exactly feel formal. She said, “Thanks for making my trip enjoyable,” and turned toward a flight information monitor. When she glanced over her shoulder, he had disappeared into the throng of passengers.

 

She meandered toward her gate, window-shopping absently, still thinking about unlikely conversations. “Jackie Billings. Jackie Billings. Please pick up the nearest white courtesy phone.” Her stomach jumped instantly as she visualized possible family emergencies. An accident at summer camp? Something at Matt’s work site? She stopped at the nearest ticket counter, asked where she could find a white phone, and rushed toward it. “This is Jackie Billings,” she said breathlessly.

“One moment, please. I’ll connect you.”

“Hello, Jackie, the ever-alert Ted Aldrich has noticed you have a long layover. Might we do lunch?”

Although vastly relieved, she blurted, “Why?” instantly aware that all conversational glibness had vanished again.

“I enjoyed talking with you. I didn’t want it to be over.”

The two sides of Jackie Billings debated briefly, but intensely. The conservative side insisted on more information. “Where would we have lunch?”

“In the crew lounge.”

She smiled, realizing that this story might earn more than a casual eyebrow lift from her worldly sister. And the crew lounge felt safe enough, although Matt wouldn’t have thought so. She ignored her flip-flopping stomach and said, “Okay, lunch would be nice.”

He arranged for an electric cart pickup, and she was soon riding behind a uniformed driver, weaving through a crowded concourse before stopping at a hallway marked Airline Personnel Only. Ted waited, looking crisp and professional in his blue uniform. He handed her a plastic ID necklace, guided her through a security check and on into an ultra-modern lounge where their window table looked out onto the massive O’Hare complex. As they settled in, he briefly explained the reasons for the maze of crisscrossed runways, and the interplay between pilot and control tower.

While they lunched on baked halibut, they talked about her colorful family, about her dad’s death, and about her volunteer activities. He asked probing questions; he listened; his eyes said he cared; they laughed often. But as they worked on a pudding dessert, he leaned forward and asked, “Why the Cosmo, Jackie?”

She looked for a quip. She looked for indignation that he had suddenly violated her comfort zone, but his eyes remained warm and sincere and caring, and she had apparently allowed a barrier or two to fall. “I’m not sure,” she answered honestly, “maybe just to spice up the weekend a little.”

“I’m not surprised by that, Jackie. I think your husband is making a serious mistake.”

She looked again for anger but failed to find it, maybe because Ted’s tone was so sincere, maybe because she knew, deep down, that Matt had made some mistakes. “What kind of mistake?”

“He’s trying to keep a wildflower from blooming.”

Her feelings began tripping all over each other. His words sounded heavy, silly, true, debatable, but way too personal. “I’m sorry, Ted, but I’m really not comfortable with this.”

“I meant no offense, Jackie. But I truly believe each of us needs to be challenged now and then—or life goes by and you spend the last part regretting all the things you missed.”

She studied him carefully, still finding nothing but sincerity. For a crazy moment, she considered diving in. Ted’s blend of maturity, wisdom, openness, and good humor made deep conversation feel possible. But this water felt too deep. “Maybe so,” she said, “but that’s plenty of challenge for today, thank you very much. Where are your favorite places to fly?”

“I just like to fly: New Orleans tonight; then Mexico City. Both good ones.”

“Do you need to speak Spanish in Mexico City?”

They finished desert, talking about the airline industry’s universal use of English, but her feelings were crazily ambivalent: wishing they could have talked at a deeper level; relieved that they hadn’t. He walked with her through the corridor to the waiting cart. As they shook hands for the second time, he said, “You are a special lady.”

She smiled, stepped back, and lifted a mock salute. “Thank you, Captain Aldrich. It really has been fun to meet you.”

 

***

Ted Aldrich strolled to the pilots’ lounge, found an isolated couch, pulled his cell phone, and dialed. “Let the game begin.”

       “Target?”

       “Jackie Billings; Dublin, Ohio, a northwest suburb of Columbus; the bucks will come from Third Ohio National.”

       “Vitals?”

       “Mid-thirties. Slender, but nice tits. Long legs. Long brown hair. Sweet, vulnerable, a suffocating husband. Perfect.”

As it did annually, the voice darkened. “Bright enough to be challenging, Theodore?”

       “Without a doubt.”

“We’ll see.”

As he did at least once annually, Ted Aldrich asked, “Do we need to hurt this one?”

“Not your department, Mr. A. Just enjoy.”

 

 

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Excerpt: The Alphabet Affair