The Way of Women (34 page)

“If you’d like.”

“Put your slides up on the screen so we can all see them. Norm, you set it up while I clear off this table.”

Frank stood and, taking Norm’s plate, scraped it onto his own.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I know. But this is the way we used to do it, only Jenn and James always fought about whose turn it was to load the dishwasher.”

“We didn’t fight.”

Frank gave her a who-are-you-trying-to-fool look.

“We just argued.”

“Huh.” Norm’s one sound comment made Frank grin.

“Come on, Sig. You can take a run while we do the chores.” He picked up his stack of plates and headed for the kitchen, dog at his heels.

Later, with the slide projector and screen set up, they all brought their coffee cups into the living room, where Jenn had been organizing her slides into the Carousel.

For the next hour, she entertained them with times, places, and problems for the different shoots. At the end she included some from a couple of her fashion shoots.

“I like the first ones better. What do you think?” From her place on the floor beside the projector, she glanced back at Frank.

“I think they are all fantastic.” Clare leaned back against the sofa pillows. “I like the local ones best, but since the others earn you good bread and butter, I’m glad you are able to make a living doing what you love to do.”

“Maybelle was right. You are good.”

“Thank you.” Jenn clicked off the projector light. She looked to her dad, who nodded.

She smiled her thanks and turned to sit cross-legged in front of them. Sig came over and sat down beside her. “Seeing them in a series like that, it would be fun to put together a multimedia show, you know, with several projector and screens, music. Perhaps some graphics. If I just had time.”

“What’s your hurry?”

She turned her attention to Sig. “I have to get back to New York.”

“Her agent’s been calling, threatening to come get her even.” Clare sighed. “I hate to see you go.”

Jenn watched the door slam in Frank’s eyes. This wasn’t how she’d wanted to tell him, but sometimes things were easier in a group. Not that she needed things easier, but … She stroked down Sig’s shoulder and rubbed his ears. If only she could reach Frank as easily. With an exhaled sigh, the dog lay down and put his head on her thigh.

Jenn looked from dog to master, feeling her delight clear to the tips of her fingers, which continued to stroke the dog.

“He likes me, Frank.”

“Yeah, well, he’s always been a sucker for a pretty face.”

She tightened her jaw; her eyes narrowed.

Sig sat up, his gaze on Frank.

“Guess that’s that, then.” She rose. “I’ll see you out.”

“No need to rush off.”

“I’d better be on the road.” As he stood, Frank reached out to shake Norm’s hand. “Everything stays calm, you should be back to work in a week or so. Good to see you.”

Jenn donned her hostess smile, one that didn’t reach her eyes.

“Thanks for the excellent dinner, Clare.”

“Don’t be a stranger, okay?” She patted his arm, then gave him a hug. “And be careful, what with all the mess you’re involved in.”

“Beats busting drug runners, searching out marijuana.” He nodded to Jenn. “See you.”

She nodded back. One nod, short, more like a jerk of her head.
I was going to tell you. You and your flamin’ temper. Stubborn, stubborn, stubborn!

I
’ve got to get up there before I leave
. Jenn stood on the deck of her parents’ home, staring at the cloud-covered mountain. Gray clouds scudded above her. For a change, she had no desire to go find places to take pictures, to seek the story. All she wanted was a view into that crater. The news said the mountain lost thirteen hundred feet in height, and she couldn’t comprehend the amount of ash that had not only buried untold acres but scattered across Washington, Idaho, Montana, and parts east. The magnitude was being compared to fifty million tons of TNT, twenty-five hundred times the atomic bomb dropped on Hiroshima: 3.3 billion cubic feet of material. What did that mean in real life?

And all that was hidden by clouds. There was no way to get in on foot or horseback or motorized vehicle of any kind. Only a chopper would do.

There were Forest Service planes going up, and rescue choppers still plied the skies, staying high enough so they didn’t blow up the ash. The ash was being blamed for more problems than anyone had ever dreamed. It clogged air filters and delicate instruments, and ground into any aperture
available. Everyone in the zone wore gauze masks to protect lungs. The latest reports said the ash contained particles of silicone, which meant glass.

Jenn knew all this, studied every bit of information she could glean from print, radio, and television. She finished her cup of coffee in a gulp and went to make a phone call.

“Hi, Mitch, this is Jenn Stockton.”

“Well, well, the ice queen herself.”

She cringed, bit back a sharp retort, and forced a smile into her voice. “I’ve heard that there’s a possibility the weather might clear this afternoon. And the dream is that you would be going up and willing to take along a passenger.”

“There’s a chance.”

She straightened from her laconic lean against the wall. “Really?” Hope warmed her voice.

“Well, I’ll be. Do I detect a crashing icicle?”

“From Pearson?” She ignored his comment but reminded herself to keep some warmth in her voice. The man managed to set her hackles straight up with only two or three words. Always the innuendo. Whatever happened to normal conversation between the sexes?

“Word has it late afternoon. I’ll be flying if you want to come.”

“Want to? Flyboy, you’ve got a passenger.”

“I’m not promising the mountain.”

“Hey, I know you’re not God.”

“But we’ll give it our best shot.” So many words that had double meanings.
God, I’m so tired of that life, those lines. How do I handle this?

Interesting that she found herself not using God as an expletive but as a petitioner.
I want what I had at one time and have so carelessly thrown away
.

She sighed. “I really appreciate this, Mitch. I just have to see the damage myself before I leave.”

“You headin’ on home?”

“Let’s say back to work. New York is not my home.” Not any longer, not that it ever was.

“Okay, I’ll see you at Pearson for preflight about two, two thirty.”

There, he’d done it again. It was all in the tone of voice, had nothing to do with the words he used, well, not that he didn’t do that masterfully too.

She hung up the phone and danced into the kitchen. “I’m going up, I’m going up.”

Clare smiled around apprehension. “I’m glad for you and scared to death at the same time. What if she blows again while you’re in the air?”

“Others outflew the big blast, and the odds of that happening again right now are fairly slim.”

“By whose estimate? Has anyone figured anything out? Not that I’ve seen.” She crossed the kitchen and put both arms around her daughter. “I’m just doing my job as a mother, you know.”

Jenn smiled and kissed her mother’s cheek. “Never give up, do you?”

“Nope, I pray for you every day, usually more than once, every time God brings you to my mind. I know there is no way I can help you, but I know He can and does.”

“What do you pray?”

“Oh, for protection mostly. That you will find true happiness, that you will return to Him.”

“What makes you think I left?”

“Ah, my dear daughter, your actions speak a language far too clearly.”

If you only knew. No, thank God you don’t know it all. I think I would die of embarrassment
. “Thanks, Mom. Maybe that’s what brought me home.”

“Why did you come back now?”

“I was so sick of all that around me that all I could think was to get back to the mountain and see her again, especially if she was going to blow.”

“You’ve always had a special thing for The Lady.”

“I know. I think you and Dad started it. But I feel …” Jenn paused, trying to put her thoughts and feelings into words. “I feel like I’m connected to her somehow.”

“Perhaps you feel closer to God there.”

Jenn nodded, tonguing the right side of her lower lip. When that wasn’t sufficient, she nibbled it. “I feel more alive, excited about little things that don’t even show up otherwise.”

“Little things like …?”

“Physical, like a perfect leaf, the sun through a branch, a smell, my senses are revved up, I look forward to the next discovery. I feel like I can run up hills. Superwoman, able to leap tall buildings, or mountains, in a single bound …” Jenn found herself laughing with her mother, something they had not done a lot of when she was growing up. Those were the grief years for her mother, the time after James died.

“Wish you would come with me.” Jenn was as surprised by the statement as she could tell was her mother.

Clare hugged her daughter again, all the while saying, “You know me and any planes, let alone small ones. You want to see your mother puking out a window?”

“Well, that wouldn’t happen on a large plane. They give you a baggie, but you might find the view so exciting, you could skip being sick.”

“I’ll have dinner ready when you get back.” She gave her daughter another hug. “But you have no idea how much your offer pleases me.”

Jenn arrived at the Airpark early, and that after she’d made herself drive clear out to Camas and back. Other than additions to the Crown Zellerbach Paper Plant, she’d not noticed a lot of change, at least from the highway. Surely there were plenty of new houses built up in the hills.

She parked her truck where she could watch planes coming and going and took a couple of deep breaths to help her relax. Cloudy still, not even a spot of blue. Would it break enough for a sneak peek at the peak?

She half smiled at playing with words. Pictures were her forte, as they all knew, rarely words, at least written words. Perhaps that was why titling and captioning her photos came with such difficulty.

Each time she heard a vehicle arrive, she checked her rearview mirror. Two thirty, two forty-five. No Mitch. Had something happened on the mountain? Something that detained him? If they didn’t get in the air soon, dusk would hide the mountain’s secrets again.

While all the geologists studying the mountain could get to read the data, most of the general public, Jenn included, had to depend on reports carried on the radio, television, or newspapers. Some she’d gleaned from Frank, but she always wanted to know more. Lady, what’s happening with you?

Three o’clock and Mitch drove in to park beside her.

“Sorry I’m late, more reports to file.”

“Sounds like with all the reports between all the agencies, they’d better retrieve every tree that was downed.”

“You can bet the timber companies are screaming for just that. I need to file my flight plan. We’re flying that red 182 over there.”

She waited for him by the gate, mentally checking through her gear as to what would be most effective with all the cloud cover, anything to keep her mind off Frank.

He hadn’t lost his quick temper, that was for sure. Or was it her? Was he only this way when they were together? Maybe she should ask Maybelle. She’d tell her. Honest and forthright. That was Maybelle Hartman. And from something Frank said, Jenn was pretty sure Maybelle knew him better than anyone and wouldn’t take any guff from him.

So how had he gotten under her skin again, she who could tell the smoothest operators to take their lines elsewhere, case in point the man walking toward her.

You never quit loving him
. The voice inside sounded both sad and wise.

Of course I have
. She followed Mitch to the plane, watching as he did a preflight walk around.

He might be a philanderer, but he was extremely cautious with a plane. She’d heard rumors of his skirt chasing, along with basing it on her own experience.

“Does your wife like to fly?”

His fingers stopped mid caress on a prop, and he shot her a look that said “beware” over his shoulder.

“I hear she’s quite an artist.”

Another pause, only this time he covered his reaction. “You been checking into my life, ice queen?”

She glanced toward the north. “Oh, Mitch, look.” She pointed at the patch of blue that might well be north of the mountain.

“I’m done here. Get in.”

She did as he ordered, her heart picking up the pace, her hands shaking as she buckled her seat belt.
The crater, I don’t need a long look but even just a glimpse. Although, the more pictures the better
. They’d help her remember her time on the mountain, not that she needed any prompts. She stared out the windshield, mentally counting down as Mitch continued his preflight check. Had she been piloting, she would have been sorely tempted to rush the process.

He started first one engine and then the other, their roar drowning any need for conversation. He finished his cockpit preflight and turned on the radio. “November 4834 Echo, taxi for takeoff.”