Decker's Dilemma (5 page)

CHAPTER EIGHT

1056, Saturday, December 28

Chief Fray threw the door open to Supply Support, causing Decker and Hack to nearly jump out of their chairs.

“Decker, what the hell are you doing here when you don't have duty?” Chief bellowed. “A young guy like you ought to be out having fun on a Saturday.”

“I just woke up,” said Decker. “You're the one at work on a day off.”

Chief hitched up his pants. “They called off the search for Kippen. Just got word of it. Why don't you guys find somewhere else to grab-ass.” He scowled at Hack. “Wilson, aren't there parts in Alpha to stow? And Decker, you've got about thirty seconds to get out of here before I put you to work.”

“I guess so,” Hack said, looking at Decker and pointing with his eyes towards the door.

Decker stood and clapped his hands together. “You don't have to tell me twice.”

Chief strode to his desk and dropped heavily in his chair. “Just stay away from Supply Support. I'm on leave all next week. I'm heading out for Baguio City later today, and I've got some important work to do before I can go. I sure as hell don't want to be disturbed.”

Chief bent over and started to unlock the small safe tucked under his desk.

“We'll miss you terribly,” Decker said as he stood in the doorway.

Chief didn't look up, concentrating on the lock's combination. “You better miss me,” he grunted.

The two sailors walked out of the office and stood in the passageway. “This sucks,” Hack said.

Decker nodded. “It's not like the news is unexpected, but I still held out hope.”

“Me too,” Hack agreed, turning to head aft towards Alpha storeroom. “Guess I need to get to work.”

Decker showered, dressed, and left the ship at noon. He left the shipyard strolling down Dewey Avenue towards the Main Gate. The walk was his favorite part of the base, picturesque, just as he'd always imagined a tropical island. A native Missourian, he had never even seen the ocean before joining the navy, but now, after a year at Subic, he preferred the towering palms swaying in the ocean breeze to the dense canopies of the old oaks in his yard at home, Despite the heat and the shipboard life, he was hooked on the laidback lifestyle that comes with living near the equator. Alone in his thoughts, he hadn't noticed the maroon Thunderbird drive past him, turn around, then pull up beside him.

“Hey there! Excuse me, but you're on the
Harvey
, right?” asked the woman behind the wheel.

“Yes, I am,” said Decker, startled momentarily by the car alongside him. The driver appeared vaguely familiar, but a hat and sunglasses hid her face.

“I thought I recognized you, Elliott. I can give you a ride if you'd like,” she said.

Decker did a double take. A beautiful woman. Blonde. Pretty smile. Nice voice. Mrs. Doerr. The boss' wife.
Damn.
He looked at the main gate complex two blocks in front of him. “Thank you, but I'm not going far. Just to the main gate.”

Piper Doerr lifted her sunglasses and leaned over to the passenger window. “I'll save you a few steps. Get in. I actually want to ask you a favor.”

Decker started to once again decline the invitation, but his eyes locked onto Mrs. Doerr's loose fitting top that exposed more than a hint of cleavage. “Now that you mention it, the gate
is
a long walk from here. I think I will take that ride.”

Decker picked up a slip of paper from the passenger seat, climbed in, and, despite his best efforts not to stare, found his gaze trailing the distance from her bright white shoes to the hem of her tennis skirt under which her sleek tan legs disappeared. Any other woman, and he would've been pleased with the situation.
Play it cool
, he told himself.
Don't look at her. Just small talk.

“Are you in a hurry?” she asked.

Decker shrugged. “Not really, ma'am. Just going to meet some guys for a beer.” He lied, but that was the first thing that came to mind.

“Well then, Elliott Decker, let's go for a ride.” She shifted the car into gear and sped along the side streets towards navy housing. At a stoplight she turned to Decker. “First of all, call me Piper. Save the ma'am crap for the navy. And if you have a few minutes, I could use a hand with something. Bob is gone for the day, and I need to carry some stuff to the garage. I really want to take care of it today. Would you mind helping me? I'll pay you.”

Decker breathed in deeply and slowly exhaled. “Sure, but no need to pay me.”

“Then let me make you lunch. I'd feel bad if I didn't do something.”

“Okay, lunch is fine. But I don't even need that, if it's a problem.”

“No problem at all,” she said as they cruised towards officer housing.

Decker spent the next few minutes glancing around the sedan's interior. The faded grey fabric in the seat itched against his back where the sweat from walking had soaked through his T-shirt. Dust coated the plastic dashboard, and the armrest had a sticky film on it that made Decker slightly uncomfortable. He glanced at the words and numbers typed on the piece of paper:

Boston -1100

Dallas +2300

Detroit +1800

LA -1200

On the back, Decker read “L2-50%” scribbled in pencil. “You need this?” he asked, holding up the note.

Piper glanced at the paper. “What is it?”

“Looks like cities with plus or minus military times.”

Piper grabbed the note out of his hands, looked at it, wadded it, and tossed it in Decker's lap. “Sorry I haven't cleaned up in a while. Bob's always working and writing notes. I meant to vacuum this morning, but didn't get around to it.”

Decker reclined the seat and absentmindedly pocketed the note. “It's cleaner than my car back home.” He lied again.

“I'm living in luxury,” Piper smiled, noticing Decker scrutinizing the car's interior. “You know the old saying, ‘my other car is a Mercedes?' Well, we had a new Mercedes but had to sell it a few months ago.” She shrugged her shoulders. “Too many bills to pay.”

“I understand that,” Decker lamented.

Piper tapped the steering wheel and glanced at him. “It's old, but it gets me around. As long it runs, I can live with it. It's my reward for living in a place like this,” she laughed as she downshifted and came to a stop at an intersection. “Sorry about my rant. I get this way sometimes, and I usually don't have anyone to talk to. Most of my friends are hardcore navy wives. You know the type. ‘Gung ho navy', just like their husbands. They don't mind moving around every two years, dragging their snot-nosed kids from port to port. Don't mind living in godforsaken places like this. I grew up in Malibu, and now look at me! My only reprieve is an occasional trip around Asia or to the States.” She glanced at Decker and smiled. “Guess what's going to happen January 13?”

Decker thought for a moment, puzzled. “I don't know, what's going to happen?”

“Bob's finally taking some time off for a weeklong trip to Hong Kong. I'm soo-o looking forward to it. I'm counting the days like a little kid waiting for summer break. He's always on that damn ship or running off to Manila. It's like he's married to the navy instead of to me.”

Decker sat quietly during the twenty minute drive to Binictican housing as Piper spilled her feelings about the military, married life, and a dozen other things that irritated her at the moment. Tucked away on the northwest corner of the naval station, the housing provided seclusion and quiet for its inhabitants. An elementary school and high school formed the centerpiece of the community. The Doerr's house was a three bedroom ranch with a carport. Nothing fancy, but adequate, roomy actually, with a spacious, manicured lawn. The boxes she wanted moved to the garage took four trips, and they were cumbersome, and much heavier than Decker had hoped.

Piper stood in the living room when Decker walked in from the garage. “See, I told you it would only take a few minutes.”

“It was no problem. I was glad to help,” said Decker, panting and wiping sweat from his forehead.

“How about lunch now?” asked Piper.

“Raincheck?” Decker said, stretching his back. “Thank you for the offer, but I'm not that hungry yet. I just woke up an hour ago, and it always takes me a while to get my appetite.”

“You sure? I feel bad that I can't give you anything for your trouble.” She peered over Decker's shoulder to the kitchen. “Andrea? Why don't you go down to the Millers. I think the house looks fine now.” The maid politely thanked her and walked through the back door without saying another word.

Piper turned to Decker. “Andrea is friends with the Miller's maid. They like to get together when they can, and I don't mind. She's a nice girl and a hard worker, but her English isn't great, so there's not much conversation between us. I hate having someone here every hour, every day; but I also hate doing housework. So, I've learned to live with it. Andrea's been with us a year now. It only costs us thirty dollars a month, and I tell Bob it's another perk of living in a place like this. Do you know how bored I get? God, there are days when I could just scream. Not to mention the heat of this place.”

Decker didn't know how to respond. The thought of having a young maid around all day didn't seem like a problem to him. He changed the subject. “How long have you been married?”

“Seven years,” said Piper. “Bob was stationed in Nevada. I was living with my sister in Reno at the time and met him there. We got married a year later.”

“He's a nice boss,” Decker said.

Piper smiled. “He's a nice man. Hey, let me get us some drinks. What do you want? Beer? Iced tea? We probably have something stronger, too.”

“Tea if you have it made.”

“I made it yesterday,” Piper said as she walked to the kitchen.

Decker stood in the quiet of the living room peering out the window, wondering what he was doing there.
What if Commander Doerr comes home? How am I going to explain this?
Panic suddenly hit him.

“Sugar?” Piper yelled.

Decker jumped. “No, I like it plain.”

“Me, too,” Piper said, entering the living room with two glasses of tea. “Don't worry, silly. Bob won't be home for several more hours. He called from the ship an hour ago.”

“How did you know what I was thinking?” asked Decker.

“
Just a lucky guess. And, by the way you were fidgeting.” Piper handed him the glass. “Here's to the
Harvey
.” They clinked glasses
.

Decker relaxed. “Where was this taken?” he asked, pointing to a picture on the wall.

“Nevada,” Piper said. “Fallon Naval Air Station. It was a couple weeks after we first met. Bob showed me around base, and I wanted a picture next to a plane.”

“I don't know much about aircraft,” said Decker. “But that's a sweet lookin' Tomcat. I'm talking about the F-15,” he quickly added.

Piper laughed. “I get it from my dad. He was a pilot. Still is, but not in the military. It's one of his hobbies. That's where I got my name.”

“I like the name Piper,” Decker said. “It's unique and much better than Beechcraft.”

“I thought you didn't know much about planes?”

“I know a little,” Decker said. “Were you living in Nevada?”

Piper shook her head. “No, my sister and I were spending the summer at our parents' vacation home at Lake Tahoe. We'd go to Reno all the time. I met Bob at the Sands.” She touched his arm. “That seems like a lifetime ago, but it's only been eight years.”

“I was a freshman in high school eight years ago.”

“You're making me feel old.”

“I didn't mean it like that.”

“I know,” Piper sighed. “I turned thirty-one two weeks ago. I spent most of my 20s being a navy wife. But, hey, age is only a number, right?”

Decker nodded. “My mom says that fifty is the new forty. I told her I'd take her word for it. I haven't told her this, but she's always been old to me.”

“I hear it's the opposite with parents,” Piper said. “I'm sure you're still a little boy to her.”

Decker, a faraway look on his face, stared at the picture of the happy couple posing next to the aircraft.

“A peso for your thoughts,” Piper said.

Decker smiled. “At least that makes them worth more than a penny.” They both laughed and turned to face each other.

“Thank you for your help today,” she said.

Decker set his glass on the coffee table and extended his hands until they rested gently on her waist. “I was happy to help.” He drew her a few inches closer.

She looked up at him and started to say something. A glance downward. Awkward hesitation. “Don't,” she whispered, slowly removing his hands. “You'd better go.”