It was 6 pm in West Los Angeles on a warm Wednesday evening in May when thirty-something Belinda Janet Miller was sitting on her sofa for the third time this week, looking over at the square and white building across the street, at the window of a certain room, to be exact. The brown-skinned young woman had moved into the little house across the building two weeks ago and had noticed that this usually was the time of day when a tall and brown-haired man with a battered brown leather jacket and a dark ball cap used to sit by that window, mostly reading a book or some comic books or just looking outside when he wasn't watching TV. The first time she had seen the lean and lank guy on the day when she had moved into the little house made of red bricks and she had liked him at first glance. Since then she enjoyed watching him sitting by the window or walking the park surrounding the building over there every now and then, sometimes acting as if he had a dog with him. Sometimes she wondered if he might have noticed her looking over and what he might have thought of it.
But tonight, just like the two nights before, there was no sign of him. She sighed in disappointment. It was easy to watch this guy as his room was opposite of her living room, and since she had moved in she had used every opportunity to get a look at him. So she had gotten used to the habit of looking at him before going to bed, and she had noticed that sleep was coming a lot easier when she had watched him.
There was something very fascinating and attractive about him. She couldn't quite put a finger on it but it was definitely more than just his features she considered very handsome. It was something that was interesting to keep an eye on, giving her comfort of some sorts and making her feel as if everything gone wrong could be fixed again if one had the heart to try and solve the problem, no matter what. As if quitting was out of the question. She felt as if she had known him for months. Yet she didn't dare to cross the street and say hello, let alone ask for his name; she preferred to just look at him even though she knew it was quite rude to stare at people like at some painting or at a TV screen.
Belinda sighed again, shook her head as if trying to clear it, and closed the curtains. Slowly, she wandered upstairs towards her bedroom. A little red tabby cat with short and velvety fur, curled up into a round ball on the blanket, raised her head when the young woman entered the room. The delicate animal named Tabby meowed sweetly to greet Belinda. Tabby was less than a year old, actually not much more than a kitten but sometimes she acted as if she were much older and wiser. In those moments, Belinda thought her cat to be a little Miss Know-it-all if she were human. Belinda had named her Tabby because the word had sounded nice and right for the delicate animal with the velvety coat, the beautiful stripes, a white mouth, four white paws and a white chest and belly. The cat had beautiful golden eyes and a graceful body.
"Hello, Tabby," Belinda said, taking her clothes off to put on a sleeveless and knee-long white cotton nightgown that fell down to her knees, and sitting down on the edge of the bed. A short row of transparent buttons decorated the front of her nightgown. She sat down on the edge of the bed, gently poked the cat's nose and asked, "Had a nice day, Little Missus?" The cat purred and came to rub against her arm before she made her way for the door left ajar. She stood up on her hind paws to push the door open with her front paws, and went down the stairs and through the kitty door to take her nocturnal stroll in the neighborhood.
During the next week, Belinda checked on a regular basis if the guy might have come back. But there was still no sign of him until Friday evening when he opened the window and looked out as if to check if somebody might have stolen the park surrounding the white building while he had been away. Belinda couldn't help smiling. It reminded her of Tabby's behavior whenever a thunderstorm would come up. Then the cat would glance up at the sky and meow pitiful at Belinda as if to ask, "Where did the sun go? And who made it go away?"
On the other side of the street, Murdock entered his room with slow and tired steps. He was glad that the nurses hadn't bothered to ask him where he had been since he was too tired to make up a plausible excuse. It had been very busy days for the A-Team. The past mission in Cuba to release the citizens of a small town from the merciless choke hold of a reckless political leader and his henchmen had been really stressful for all of the team. To begin with, Murdock had almost crashed the little passenger plane that Face had managed to get his hands on against a mountain because of B. A. who had almost strangled him when the muscular Sergeant had found himself tricked into a flight once again. And as if this hadn't been enough, the team members had had to deal with the most brutal bunch of crooks they had ever run across.
"Damn this big angry mud-sucker and his fear of flyin'!" Murdock complained to the descending dark red sun, his unplugged arcade machine in the corner and the little basketball hoop opposite of it. A yellow small sponge rubber ball was squeezed flat between the hoop's rim and the ceiling. He opened the window, to get some fresh air, and looked out to check if everything was still okay before plopping down on top of his bed and pulling his cap low over his eyes. A little voice from the drawer of his bedside table answered to his grumbled statement, snapping him awake.
"Which is so not your fault!" Murdock heard the voice say. He sat up and rummaged in the drawer to find a matchbox with the words "Herman's Home" written on it. Carefully, he pushed it open and looked at a small cockroach that hurried to hide in the darker part of the box.
"You're right, Herman, thanks," he said, smiling. "So nice of you to remind me." The pilot took a piece of paper from another drawer to fold it into a plane and opened the box further before he nudged the insect with his index finger to make it climb onto the plane.
"Y'know, I've seen a cute lady bug in the big bush on the other side of the park, reading a book. I bet she'd like to meet you," Murdock whispered with a small grin. "Have fun, Herman. Go ahead."
Murdock aimed and let the paper plane fly towards the bushes. He laughed quietly and shook his head when the plane landed on the grass next to the biggest bush.
An ace pilot barely able to control a paper plane! If that ain't a treat! he thought, and sat down on the bed again, uttering another small and rather humorless laugh. A few minutes later, he lay down on top of the bed again, took a deep breath and fell asleep.
At about the same time, Belinda dragged herself away from the window and went into the kitchen to feed her feline friend who had started begging for food. As usual, there was a discussion between them because Tabby wanted Belinda to open a fresh can of tuna fish in oil although there was half a can of pork bits in jelly left. And as usual, Belinda gave in when Tabby gave her an icy "You don't love me anymore"-stare from head to toe, meowed accusingly and turned her back on the brown-skinned woman, the feline version of the cold shoulder, ignoring her until she got the required can of tuna fish.
But nonetheless, the cat left the house without dining tonight. There were things to do and places to go, and even if tuna fish was her favorite food, it could wait until breakfast. Having visited almost every house in the neighborhood before, the little animal decided to cross the street and sneak through a little hole in the hedgerow she had noticed a few nights before. She caught the scent of many people that had walked around on the grass before she looked at the barred windows. She noticed an open one and jumped onto the window-sill. Tabby looked at the only person in the room, a tall man in a dark ball cap pulled low over his eyes wearing a worn jacket with a smell the cat considered interesting, a pair of khaki pants and a pair of beat-up black tennis shoes. He was lying on a bed, his long legs crossed at the ankles, his head resting on his left arm, his right hand splayed across his belly, apparently having fallen asleep. But her sense of smell told the cat he hadn't. She knew there was a certain odor on humans asleep, and this guy wasn't oozing it. Yet, he smelled a-okay to Tabby. To become noticeable, the cat meowed softly and scratched the window's frame, making him rub his eyes with his palms and sit up before coming to the window.
"Well, hello, hello," Murdock said to his unexpected visitor and gently ran his hand over the little animal's head and back before he started scratching the cat's ears, making her purr. Although he preferred the company of dogs since he had been a kid – his best childhood playmates had been a gang of invisible creatures and Billy, his grandparents' ancient yard dog –, Murdock smiled when the pretty tabby cat purred louder and came to rub her head against his arm. The pilot was fond of animals in general, except for spiders and some other bugs. Sometimes, he even preferred animals to people.
"And who might you be, little guy?" he asked. The cat added little trills to her purring.
"Don't you worry, I don't bite," the pilot smiled and laughed softly about his own joke before taking a closer look at the black square plastic tag in the size of a big stamp that was dangling from the cat's black leathern collar, attached to it with a little safety hook, just like the rabies tag next to it. Murdock took the black plastic tag off the collar and held it like a coin between index finger and thumb, carefully studying it.
"Hi, my name is Tabby," the tag read in white and delicately carved-in letters, "If I'd get lost, I'd be glad if you'd take me back to my friend Belinda J. Miller. We lodge in 1510 San Vincente, West Los Angeles. Thank you. Truly yours, Tabby" Murdock blinked in surprise when he realized that the cat's home had to be one of the houses on the other side of the street. He had gotten new neighbors, as it seemed.
"Evening, Miss Tabby," he said, tucking politely at the bill of his cap when he realized that he was facing a little lady. He re-attached the tag to the cat's collar and continued scratching her ears. The cat closed her eyes and snuggled her head against his palm.
"My name is Murdock, H. M. to my friends," the pilot added, highly amused by the cat's behavior. "Nice to meet you. And sorry that I mistook you for a little guy at first. Come to check out the neighborhood, have ya?" The cat looked at him and meowed as if to agree before she blinked at him with both eyes. Murdock smiled again before he opened his bedside table drawer again and searched for something he could offer his unexpected guest. Finally, his fingers found the unopened can of anchovies left from his supper last Sunday before the mission had started. He opened the can to see if the content was still edible before he picked out one of the little fish and held it out to the cat that took it with a delicate motion from his fingers and ate it slowly.
"Hope you enjoy it," the pilot said, pulling up a chair to sit by the window before giving the next fish to the cat. He could have sworn he saw the corners of her mouth curl up into a little smile when she grabbed his hand with both front paws and started to lick his fingers and his palm, obviously trying not to waste a bit of the fish oil before eating the second fish, licking his fingers again and making herself comfortable on the inner window-sill by tucking her delicate paws underneath her body. She yawned, making Murdock yawn as well. He checked his watch and decided it might be a good idea to catch some Z's – it had been a really tough time, after all – and let the cat stay as his guest. He would take the little animal home on the next day, just like the tag had said.
Murdock laid down on his bed again and felt the cat crawl underneath his jacket and his shirt und cuddle close to him. He opened the zipper of the jacket a bit further and brushed aside the fabric of his shirt to look at the curled-up cat on his belly, and scratched her ears again. When the cat started purring again, a little bit louder this time, the soothing vibration and the pleasant sound made Murdock doze off again soon.
The new day was barely dawning when the pilot woke up again. He yawned and noticed the golden eyes of the cat watching him from inside his jacket.
"Mornin', Miss Tabby. I think Miss Miller will be worried about you not coming home," he said to the cat. "What do ya think if I take you home before you're gonna be declared missin' and make your friend cry?"
Meowing softly, Tabby blinked at him again with both eyes and rubbed against his ribcage, sticking her head out of his jacket and looking towards the door.
"C'mon, let's take you home, Miss Tabby," Murdock said and put a soothing arm around the little creature in his jacket. Quietly talking to the cat, the pilot got up and carried the little animal through the halls to the front door, carefully looking around every corner if any of the nurses might cross his way. As soon as the pilot and the cat had made it outside unnoticed, Tabby struggled to leave the jacket before she stood up on her hind legs and begged Murdock to pick her up by scratching his pants. She made herself comfortable on his arms, and Murdock enjoyed the warmth coming from the cat's fur against his chest and her paws against the skin of his palms as the early morning was sunny but chilly. The cat put her head against his upper arm and closed her eyes as the tall pilot crossed the street, searched for the address and rapped on the door.
A young woman with peanut-colored skin opened the door to look at him curiously with eyes resembling black pearls. The pilot noticed a sweet-smelling perfume oozing from the young lady, followed by a pleasant smell of baked goods and hot coffee from inside the house. Both hit the pilot's nostrils with an intensity that made him blink in surprise. He couldn't help but notice he was facing a quite unusual woman. She stood about 5'30'', and her hair was the shortest he'd ever noticed on a woman. Normally, he was used to see long hair on a woman, but the short dark brown curls looked surprisingly good on the young lady. She wore an oriental-looking dress made of cotton fabric in different shades of blue falling down to her calves and a red long-sleeved jogging top with a half-opened zipper, showing the neck of the dress that was decorated with golden fancywork. The dress was clinging to her round body form reminding Murdock of the shape of a small Coca-Cola glass bottle. The unusual dress made her body and the brown skin look pretty. The pilot couldn't hide an amused grin when he noticed that the young woman was wearing tight pants made of jeans fabric and worn out Chuck Taylor tennis shoes with the dress. They looked like smaller versions of his own shoes. Except her laces were whiter and cleaner than his. Her only jewelery was a pair of dangling silver earrings with purple stones, a thin silver chain with a pendant containing the same purple stones, and a silver ring with a black carved-in symbol Murdock didn't recognize on her right pinkie. Murdock was sure B. A. would have liked the earrings – even if it was silver instead of gold. All in all, the young woman was fine-looking but didn't seem to be too worried about style and fashion.
"Belinda J. Miller?" he asked, wondering for a moment what the initial might stand for. She nodded, extending a delicate hand with short nails, carefully clipped and polished with a transparent nail polish, appearing whitish in the early morning sun. She was smiling at him with her full lips, covered with a shimmering lip balm. This was the only make-up she had put on.
"Yep, that's me," she said in a voice that rang dark and pleasant in his ears, looking up at him and giving her cat a wondering glance, "And you are…?" Her accent suggested that she wasn't from California or any other Southern state Murdock had been to. Therefore, he supposed she was from somewhere up North. In fact, Belinda was born in Abita Springs, Louisiana and raised in a small town close to Bangor, Maine. It had been rather tough to be the only non-white person in town – especially with a white unmarried mother –, and winters in Maine had been hard. Therefore, Belinda had left the town one day after she had graduated highschool. After she had lived at her younger sister's family in Ohio during her college and education time, she now enjoyed the sunny weather in Southern California where it was hard to move without running across another dark-skinned person. However, she sometimes missed having Christmas without snow.
"My name is H. M. Murdock, at your service. Nice to meet you, Miss Miller," Murdock said, smiling brightly and tucking at the bill of his cap again as the cat jumped off his arms and strolled into the house, rubbing gently against the woman's leg to greet her. "Hope I don't interrupt. Your little feline friend here came to visit me last night. So I thought I'd better take her home before she'll be declared missin'." He took the young woman's hand into his hands and patted it gently. She opened her mouth as if to say something but all she could do was to take a deep breath as suddenly, a little moaning sound escaped her slack lips. A second later, her legs gave out. Murdock could just reach out in time to catch her.
"Miss Miller!" he said in the loud whisper of a schoolboy in class while he held her a bit awkwardly in both arms, to keep her from lying on the floor. He carefully avoided touching any spots on her he thought to be indecent as he didn't mean to take liberties with her. He shifted her into a better position to check the pulse on her wrist and then push the door shut with his foot before lifting her up on both arms and getting up. For a moment, he marveled about that the young woman wasn't as heavy as she looked. The color of her face changed from light-brown to an odd yellow that screamed the word "unhealthy". It was a sight that made Murdock gulp hard. The pulse, however, was steady but quite fast.
"You're okay?" he asked.
Tabby came back, stood up on her hind paws and put her front paws against Murdock's shins to sniff the fingers of Belinda's left hand dangling in front of the pilot's kneecaps. Then the cat pawed at the hand and meowed forcefully as if to point out that of course her human friend wasn't all right.
"Oh, okay! You're right, Miss Tabby," Murdock said after he had studied Belinda's face again. Of course he had seen the young woman wasn't all right, and of course he knew it had been a rather pointless question. But it had been the first thought that had popped into his mind, and it had been something to cope with the situation. A cold ball curled up inside his stomach when Belinda didn't react. Carefully, Murdock pushed the door shut and carried her into the next room which happened to be the kitchen, the source of the delicious smell of baked goods and coffee he had noticed when she had opened the door. Murdock noticed a baking pan with obviously fresh-baked and golden brown muffins and a pitcher of apparently equally fresh-brewed coffee standing on the kitchen counter. He put her down on the kitchen bunk before he took off his jacket, folded it up into a makeshift pillow and put it underneath her head before he turned towards the telephone to call an ambulance. Then, he decided to put the makeshift pillow underneath the young lady's calves. The pilot didn't know what was wrong with her but he speculated it couldn't be wrong to have her legs put up instead her head. After having pulled up a chair to sit down next to the bunk until the ambulance would come, Murdock wrapped his long fingers protectively around her delicate hand again, patted it gently and was relieved to see the young woman regaining conscience after a while, and to his great relief, the unhealthy color of her face turned into the light-brown of roasted peanuts again. She blinked at him as if to ask what had happened.
"You broke down, Miss Miller," the pilot explained sheepishly. "I called an Ecto."
"Ecto?" the young woman asked, her voice not much more than a whisper. She furrowed her brows in confusion.
"The old ambulance car from the Ghostbusters movie," Murdock explained, smiling broadly.
"Oh, that one!" Belinda smiled back when she remembered the movie and the car.
"I guess the ambulance is gonna be here any minute now," the pilot added.
"Thank you, Mr. Murdock," she said, turning towards him. She took a deep breath and smiled, doing her best not to pass out again with the man she was so fond of sitting next to her and holding her hand now. She was glad he had taken care of her when necessary.
"H. M., if you please, Miss Miller," Murdock corrected her with one of his trademark grins lighting up his entire face.
"Okay, H. M., thank you. I'm Bessie to my friends," Belinda answered in a hush voice, forcing her heartbeat back into a slower pace. "You live in the square building on the other side of the street, don't you? I've seen you walking the park over there every now and then. What kind of building is it, by the way? It doesn't look like an apartment house."
"Well, it isn't. It's a hospital for veteran soldiers, ya see," the pilot explained. "I live there since I came home from Vietnam in 1972." Belinda blinked in astonishment, obviously taken aback.
"You really survived this damn war?" she asked and lowered her gaze for a moment, "Must have been a living hell being over there. My mother once told me that her best friend's second husband came back from war having turned into an absolute bastard – pardon my French." She closed her eyes for a moment in slight embarrassment.
"Sorry. I didn't mean to use foul language," she added, blushing a little. The pilot couldn't help grinning.
"Don't you worry, Bessie. Truth be told I use worse once I get started," he tried to comfort her, patting her hand again, "After all, I'm a trained military man, a chopper pilot, to be exact. Ya see, chopper pilots can be worse than any other soldier when it comes to foul language, for all I know, and I, myself, can cuss up a storm. Speakin' of storms, war wasn't exactly a field trip. It can change a guy, mostly takin' the best of him, lemme tell ya." Murdock managed to keep a half-grin on his face with the last words and looked into her eyes, making her smile, too. She couldn't help it – the pilot's grin was just catching, and she liked the way it made his big brown eyes twinkle. But he had to struggle a bit to keep the grin on his face. He hardly ever liked talking about his time in the jungle, not even to his team mates who had seen most of it themselves – there was too much pain and fear attached to the memories. Even thinking about this time was like being poked with a very sharp pencil that was driven deep into his chest, all the way down to his heart. But this time it somehow felt different to talk about the time in Vietnam. It felt as if it wasn't his point of view at all but just some tale he had heard once in a he-said-she-said-crowd. He rested his elbows on his knees and his chin on his free hand and leaned in close to look into her eyes again. He could see a lot going on behind them and this view made his gloomy thoughts vanish into thin air.
Anyway, it was nice and refreshing to meet a woman like her, pretty in her own way and fun to talk to, but clearly not overly interested in the latest fashion and style, like the average girl he had met before.
It didn't really catch the pilot's eye that the young woman was pretty – those girls were ten a penny. But he had never seen a woman wearing beat-up high-top tennis shoes with a dress before, especially when she appeared to be past her late teens already; that was the fact that really interested him. He wished he could sit next to her forever, just listen to her pleasant voice and watch her black-brown eyes twinkle underneath the long lashes when her face was lit up by her smile. But on the other hand, Murdock didn't want to risk the nurses to find him gone, call the military police and report him missing. He could really do without meeting Lynch, Decker, Fulbright or any other Military Police officer on this fine morning. The ambulance arrived a few minutes later, and Murdock was glad to hear the medic say that it had been nothing serious. Belinda's blood pressure had been too low. But as soon as she would take a rest and eat and drink something, she would feel better, the medic had said. Besides, the medic said the pilot had done the right thing having put the young woman's legs up. This way, the blood pressure would recover soon enough. Murdock watched Belinda anxiously when she got ready to sit up again. She took a deep breath and smiled when she could remain seated.
"Say, what do you think about a cup of coffee and some muffins for taking care of Little Missus here and of me?" she asked, taking deep breaths between the words.
"Coffee and muffins sound nice. But only if your boyfriend won't mind me sitting here with you," Murdock answered, watching her warily, ready to catch her again if she'd show any sign of weakness.
"He won't because I don't have a boyfriend. And Tabby and I'd really like to thank you very much for your help," Belinda added after a few minutes. "And... well... it's a kind of excuse if I bothered you when I looked at you so often." The pilot shook his head to express that he hadn't felt bothered by her looking over. Besides, he couldn't believe that a pretty young lady like this really wouldn't have a beau. The men she met had to be dumb or blind or both or whatever. Since he was still touched by having seen her pass out, he volunteered to set the table. Thankfully, Belinda pointed at a cabinet across the room where she kept the tableware. While he poured two cups of coffee, added sugar to his and, according to her advice, lots of milk to hers, Murdock started humming the melody of an old Frank Sinatra song called "Something stupid" he suddenly remembered. His humming was a bit off-key so it took Belinda a few moments to place the tune. The pilot brought the coffee to the table and sat down next to Belinda on the bunk to give her some support with his arm when he saw her breathing harder and closing her eyes again. He felt his heart begin to pound when she fell back against his arm. Carefully, Murdock put the cup up to Belinda's lips, trying to keep a steady hand, so she could drink some of the caramel-colored liquid. He remembered having read that caffeine could push up the blood pressure really good. When she had swallowed and looked up at him, he took one of the muffins made of shredded almonds, flour, and crunched sugar-coated cornflakes added to a mixture of milk, sweet cream and yogurt, and filled with some pieces of chocolate the baking process had melted. He peeled off the baking paper and started giving her the cupcake a bite at a time, followed by the coffee a sip at a time.
"Not so hasty, Bessie. You're gonna get the hiccups. The little guy here won't run away," he restricted her sotto voce, giving her a shy hug to support her. The sight of her looking up at him with her dark eyes made Murdock think of a little animal asking for protection. He gave her a friendly and encouraging smile. Belinda couldn't help returning it. She felt surprisingly good in the pilot's arm.
"Thank you," she whispered back, putting her head on his shoulder. Murdock answered with a brighter smile when he felt his heart beat slow down again step by step. The medic had said the young woman had broken down because of low blood pressure – really no big deal at all – but what if it happened again and there was nobody around to help her? Murdock didn't want to imagine that this nice young lady might get hurt when she collapsed again. Although she wasn't really slender, she might break, twist or fracture something if it happened again.
Initially, he hadn't been sure what to think of her offer. His old CIA instincts had suggested the young woman might be a spy for the Military Police. But then again, another closer look into her eyes made him dismiss that thought. Such a kind and friendly person – a woman wearing Chuck Taylors with a dress at that! – didn't strike him as the beautiful but cold-hearted kind of woman who would work for Military Police guys. Besides, his guts were protesting because he had skipped breakfast this morning, and the coffee in the V. A.'s cafeteria wasn't worth a rush. Even the huge amount of sugar Murdock never forgot to add couldn't make it taste more than acceptable. In fact, it tasted worse than three-day-old Coca-Cola in an open bottle having stood seven inches from the midday sun for hours. Nothing compared to the strong-flavored beverage in his cup. The coffee and the muffins had smelled delicious enough to make him follow the invitation of this nice and gentle young lady. Besides, he felt bad to leave her alone. The pilot still didn't know exactly why the young lady had fainted – he remembered having read once that low blood pressure could have a lot of reasons – but it hadn't looked good to him at all.
Some time later, when Murdock and Belinda had finished breakfast, and the pilot had noticed that the young lady was feeling much better again, he took his arm off her and moved to the chair next to the bunk to lean back and stretch out his legs in front of him, smiling contently. He felt as if he hadn't had such a good breakfast in ages.
Belinda was still too shy to ask him many questions. It embarrassed her that she had fallen down like a chopped tree right in front of him. Fumbling with her mug most of the time and looking at him from the corners of her eyes, she had hardly spoken a dozen words. So, Murdock mainly had asked her about the symbol on her ring that had turned out to be the eye of Ra, an ancient Egyptian god, before he asked about Tabby who was sitting on a chair facing him with her front paws on the table, looking at him curiously. Belinda was most astonished that her cat had gone to visit Murdock, of all people, not even knowing him.
"Maybe the little feline lady here saw you watching me," the pilot supposed and reached out to scratch the cat's head.
"Might be. I hope it didn't bother you?" Belinda inquired. Murdock shrugged when the cat jumped onto the table. She sneaked across the table to jump on the chair next to him and then onto his lap.
"Didn't bother me," he said while he scratched the cat's ears. "Just wonderin' why you keep lookin' over?"
The young woman took a very deep breath and lowered her gaze before she gave an answer.
"Well, I know this may sound absurd, but it somehow comforts me when I look at you," she said quietly and looked at him again.
"But you don't know anythin' about me," Murdock objected and couldn't help grinning knowingly, "I mean, I could be a lunatic or something."
"I'm not worried. To be honest, I think you're interesting and... well, pretty damn cute, too. And when I watch you I just get the feeling as if all things gone wrong could be fixed again, no matter how wrong they've gone and no matter what it takes."
Murdock felt a blush creeping up his face so he quickly took his cup and drank to hide the old habit that sometimes showed up when he was around pretty women. This had been the nicest compliment he had heard in years.
Wait till Faceman gets a load of this! he thought and had to struggle hard not to burst out laughing when he imagined the con man's reaction to the news. Murdock knew exactly how Face could be when a woman preferred the dark-haired pilot over him – it usually made the blond con man pout like a kid who doesn't get the toy the elder brother is playing with at the moment. It had happened before, and Face had been going all huffy every time as if someone had dragged his reputation in the mud on purpose.
"H. M.? You okay?" Belinda wondered when she noticed him biting the tip of his thumb to keep the laughter inside. He gave her a nod and blink in respond.
She's really the nicest woman I met since… hell, I can't remember when, he thought. No five-course gourmet meal. More like macaroni and cheese chased with hot coffee. You get what you see – a pretty young lady having her feet planted on the ground. I mean, she's wearing Chuck Taylors with a dress! And her hair's shorter than mine or Face's! Funny to see a woman with so short hair – but it suits her! And her muffins are great – well, not as good as Gran's apple pie, but really, really yummy! She sure got a talent there! Would be nice to eat those muffins more often… There's a lot going on behind those pretty eyes of hers, too. And – on top of all that – the young lady seems to like me, too! A mouthful of coffee went down his windpipe at this thought.
"H. M.? You okay?" Belinda asked again when the pilot coughed and gasped for air. Cautiously, she touched his wrist.
"Yeah, all fine, just some coffee gone down the wrong pipe," Murdock said as soon as he could breathe better and gave her one of his brightest smiles. "Indeed, things can be fixed again. Trust me. Everything can be set right again, once you got the heart to try and the courage to rush in where lesser hearts won't dare."
"I sure hope that's true, H. M.," Belinda replied.
"Trust me, it is true. I've seen it more than once myself," he said and patted her shoulder before he knocked down the rest of his coffee. "I gotta go for now but I sure would like to get together again soon. It was very nice meetin' you and your little feline lady, so I'd be happy if we'd stay in touch. Maybe you can visit me someday, too. Then I can show you my humble home." Murdock bid a fond adieu to Belinda and Tabby and went back for the V. A. at twelve noon, humming the song again.
To his great relief, and since he had thought of putting a dummy dressed in one of his old t-shirts and one of his spare ball caps into his bed under the covers before leaving, to pretend he was in deep sleep, nobody had noticed that he had been gone. Content with himself, the pilot put the dummy back into his closet after he had eaten enough of his lunch so that the pills would have company. Then, he picked up the phone and called Face to make him come to the V. A., not really caring that he had woken up the con man. Then,the pilot laid down on his bed and looked at the ceiling to wait for Face showing up. Murdock couldn't wait to tell his best friend about the very pleasant meeting and to see his expression.
When Belinda prepared to leave her house for work at seven-thirty in the next morning, she found a white envelope with the light-colored picture of an antique red double-decker plane printed in the up-hand left corner in her mailbox with her name and address in even, tight-written lines on the front and the initials "H. M." on the back. Inside there was a neatly folded sheet of white unlined paper with the same picture printed across it. Murdock's grandfather had bought it as a present for his seventh birthday. Since then the pilot had used it mostly for an occasional letter home from Vietnam to the few persons he had held very dear at that time.
"Dear Bessie," the letter said, "When I was at your place, I've been meaning to tell you one more thing. It was very nice meeting you and your little feline lady. And if you feel like talking with a friendly person, please feel free to come over and ask for me. By the way, I'd be happy if you'd feel good enough to come by on Friday. Like that old Frank Sinatra song goes – do you think you have the time to spend an evening with me? Friday's gonna be Movie Night in the hospital and I'd like to invite you. Mostly they show classics like 'Casablanca', that sorta stuff. On Friday, they'll be showing 'High Society', a 1940's movie if my memory doesn't fail me. I'll pick you up at six pm; hope that's okay with you.
Please take good care of you.
Ciao for now and see ya soon,
H. M. Murdock
Captain, United States Army"
Belinda blinked in surprise. Was this nice and handsome guy really asking her out? Yes, he was indeed. The young woman nodded slowly to herself, confirming her own question and smiling a little. It had been a while since she had had a date.
Besides, she had been sure that she had failed making a good first impression on the nice and handsome Captain. But she obviously seemed to have impressed him despite the collapse. The thought made her feel fine again. Smiling, she read the letter over once again, put it back into the envelope and attached the envelope to her fridge door so it would remind her of the date. While she went to the bus stop around the corner, she, too, started humming the melody of "Something stupid".