Blue Skies

That took her a second. Inundated? Indinuated? “You sure about that?” she finally asked. “Do you read Business Week and Aviation Week? It’s a pretty bleak world for airlines, Bob. All of them. Since 9/11 and the war, the industry has lost three times what it earned since Wilbur and Orville took off.”

He looked at her as though he was very tired of her idiocy. “Look, the employees made pay concessions with 9/11, the government has given the company millions of dollars, and it’s time the management of this company got the message that they’ll have to cut costs somewhere else—their big fat paychecks, perhaps? Or deal with the consequences.”

“Bob…”

“Not all airlines are losing money, which tells me that the Aries management should take a look at profitable companies and learn from them.”

“Bob, two airlines didn’t lose money. One is a low-fare carrier that has a legislative monopoly out of Texas, and the other is a start-up that hasn’t made a single airplane lease payment yet.”

He sighed heavily. “Drastic measures for drastic times.”

No matter how many times she heard this rhetoric, Nikki couldn’t believe it. “Look, I’m not saying management is right or the union is right, but there is a basic tenet of logic that it just doesn’t make sense to draw a line in the sand now, when the entire industry is struggling. Why not just hunker down and wait until there are signs of a recovery, and then turn the screws? That’s when getting tough has a chance of actually paying off. A strike now could shut the company down.”

“Exactly!” he said, as though finally getting through to her. “With that kind of threat, you think the company would let us stay out long?”

“Oh, man. You could end up in the unemployment line.”

He smiled at her, turned and started walking again. “I’ve already got my résumé out there floating around. There are lots of possibilities.”

“That’s just it, Bob, there aren’t,” she said to his back. “Everyone is still trying to get their furloughed employees back. Some airlines are laying off even more.”

He turned and spoke while taking a few steps backward. “I’m not worried. I have a ton of hours and lots of experience. I think I’m pretty competitive.”

Nikki just stared at him in wonder. “Not if they see you land.”

Four

When Nikki got to Dixie’s, she walked in on an impressive pity party. Carlisle and Dixie were drinking mai tais with black rum floating on top, eating cheesecake and sorting through a big pile of men’s and women’s clothing that was heaped on the sofa.

“Oh, you are going to hate yourselves in the morning,” she predicted.

“Want one, Nick? We can call you a cab….”

“How about a small glass of wine and an explanation.”

Both were served up quickly. Dixie had whacked Branch in the head with the hotel door, and even though she’d done so unintentionally, she hadn’t made any attempt to help him. She’d heard him moan and stumble away, and at least briefly hoped he was dead.

Nikki sank onto a kitchen stool and leaned her head on her hand, listening.

“I think I might’ve had fifty boyfriends,” Dixie said. “Or a hundred. Do ya’ll know I have eleven tennis bracelets? Plus a good many necklaces, earrings and miscellaneous jewelry. And look at this here,” she said, going to the huge mound of clothes on the sofa. She lifted a fistful of sheer and lacy lingerie. Red, black, silver, gold, white, yellow—leopard? “Negligees, teddies and peekaboos—some I’ve fetched for myself, some given to me. All so that I can look sexy for whichever guy I pinned my hopes on.”

“What are you going to do with all that stuff?”

“Putting it out on the curb for giveaway. I’m getting Bali bras and Jockey For Her briefs from now on, and I’m going to start sleeping in a T-shirt like the rest of the female human race. And the next guy who gives me a teddy is going to be strangled with it.”

Nikki took a sip of her wine. Not only had she never been given a teddy, she had never bought one for herself. She’d worn cotton undies for ten years at least. And if she was honest, she didn’t really need a bra.

“The homeless are going to look très chic,” Carlisle said, slurring just slightly.

“I’ve heard you swear off men before…” Nikki began.

“Oh, no, this time I’m through. I hate all men.”

“That is s-o-o-o unkind,” Carlisle whined.

“Not all men, precious,” she said. “I still love all gay men. Well, not all,” she amended.

“You’re both shit-faced,” Nikki told them.

“It might seem so to you, Nicole,” Carlisle said, “but we have been so badly bruised by love.”

She looked at him seriously for a moment before she burst into laughter, and with the slightest lisp, said, “Carlisle, you get s-o-o-o gay when you’re drunk.”

“Thanks, Butch,” he shot back, taking another pull on his mai tai.

“So what’s your story?” she asked. “What’s driven you to drink? And are you giving up your sexy underwear, too?”

“It’s just Robert, the bastard. He’s chronically unfaithful and nasty to me. And I don’t wear underwear.” Then he began to sing “Alone Again, Naturally.” By the end of the first stanza they were on the floor in uncontrollable laughter.

Nikki indulged herself with another half glass of wine, just because her friends were so hysterically funny in their misery. “As much as I’d love to stay until you two get sick, I really do have to go,” she said at last. “I have two kids, a cranky father and a dead ex-husband to tend to.” But she made a pass by the sofa full of clothes. The men’s had belonged to Branch Darnell, but the sexy girlie stuff was all Dixie’s. She lifted a black shortie nightie that was totally transparent. “I have never owned anything like this,” she said mournfully.

“It’s just as well, sugar,” Dixie assured her. “That stuff’ll get you into trouble.”

Nikki held the nightie up to her, over her pilot shirt, of course. “Do you know what I’d give to look good in one of these things? The hell with men, I’d just wear it on Saturday nights and stare at myself in the mirror.” She waved it toward Dixie. “At least you can console yourself that you’re gorgeous.”

“I’d rather have two kids,” Dixie said.

That gave Nikki pause. She thought for a moment. “There’s absolutely no question that I’d ever give them up, not at the point of a gun, but I would like to have sex again. At least once before I die.”

“Well, then,” Carlisle said, “get down to the Salvation Army first thing Monday morning and you’ll find all that striking boudoir gear on sale.”

Carlisle had a headache the size of Texas when the ringing of the phone in the next room woke him. Dixie was already up, loading all the clothes into large yellow bags for the Salvation Army. She had turned some developmental corner. Five years ago, even one year ago, she’d have laundered everything and had her ex-lover come for it. There might have even been a tearful roll in the hay for old time’s sake. No more, she said. Meet the new Dixie.

Well, Carlisle thought, I am the same old me—starving for affection. And sometimes, he thought, needing to be abused. Why else would he put up with so much? What had Robert ever done for him but make him miserable? Robert wasn’t the least self-conscious about cheating; in fact, he became more open about it all the time.

The dark, depressing cloud that hung in the air at Dixie’s town house was caused by the absence of phone calls. Branch hadn’t phoned to beg forgiveness and profess his undying love, and Robert had certainly not bothered them. Neither Carlisle nor Dixie had dared venture around the corner to see if the BMW was back at the curb.

“You’d think that sorry bastard of a pilot would call,” Dixie had said.

“You put him in the hospital,” Carlisle reminder her. “It might have pissed him off. But Roberto…”

“Is very clever. He waits until he knows you’ll be miserably lonely, then he calls, and you’re the big dope who gives him one more chance. It’s happened…what? Twenty or thirty times? At least I always move on to a new man.” She cleared her throat. “Or I used to. I’m not gonna do that anymore. No more men! I just can’t figure out what I’m going to do about sex. I’m awful fond of sex.”

But this time it was neither Branch nor Robert on the phone. It was Nikki, offering an opportunity to keep them from just licking their wounds and medicating their hangovers. She asked if they were up to helping her go through Drake’s clothes and other personal items. “I dread it,” she told them. “School’s going to be out soon and I have to get this behind us. I could use the company.”

“You sure we won’t just be in the way?” Dixie asked. “It’s a mighty emotional thing for kids.”

“I told the kids to think about what they’d like to keep—sentimental things, like watches and cuff links and stuff. The rest, they understand, is going to go to people who can use it. I’m going to get as much of it cleared out as possible while they’re at school.”