Chapter Six

Another 2 weeks have passed . . .

"Hello?  Anyone home?"  Higher for Hire's door creaked open.  Rebecca was crouched over a filing cabinet drawer.  At the sound of the voice, she swung around, papers fluttering all over the office.

"Kit?!"  Rebecca ignored all composure, ran, and enveloped Kit in a tight hug.

"Hiya, Miz Cunn—I mean, Becky."  Kit tried to stifle a moan, but it escaped his lips.  Rebecca pulled back, surveying the young pilot.

"Kit!  You're injured!"

Kit's jacket slid off of his shoulders enough to reveal the cast on his left arm.  "Not too bad, really."  He grimaced as he hung his jacket on the coat rack beside the door.

"Oh, honey!"  Rebecca took him by the shoulders gently and looked him up and down.  His frame was much more slender than it had been a month before.  "Kit, what happened to you?"  Her eyes searched his face for answers, but Kit kept them to himself.  His eyes were troubled. 

"Where's Molly?  I'd, uh, rather talk about it with everyone."

"Oh, of course!  Kit, please excuse me . . . I mean, we weren't expecting you, and . . . " her voice trailed off as she looked more intently at Kit.  He had changed somehow in only a month.  Her voice dropped in volume and pitch.  "I'll call her at the hospital; Baloo's making a run, but he'll be back any minute.  I'll get him on the radio."

"If you don't mind, I'm going to my room; I'd like to change out of my uniform, if that's ok."  Rebecca nodded, finally sensing a note of normalcy in his voice.  She picked up the phone and dialed Cape Suzette Memorial, her fingers trembling.  After leaving a message for Molly, she flipped on the radio.

"This is Higher for Hire, calling Baloo.  Baloo, do you copy?"

"Right here, Beckers."  The voice was a bit blurred by static, but was undeniably Baloo's.  "I just finished droppin' off that parts shipment for the ammo place."

As concerned as she was, Rebecca couldn't keep the joy out of her voice.  "Kit's come home."  She grinned as Baloo let out a whoop of joy over the radio frequency.  She glanced around a moment before lowering her voice and continuing.  "Baloo, you need to know—something's not right."  She could almost hear Baloo's frown.

"He's ok—right, Beckers?"  The tension seeped through the radio.

Rebecca sighed, her throat tight.  "I don't know, Baloo.  Just get back here soon, please?"

"Sure thing, Rebecca.  This is Baloo, over and out."

****

Molly couldn't help running to Higher and Hire from the hospital.  Although she had put in nine long, grueling hours, all fatigue was carried away by thoughts of Kit.  Deep inside, however, she was fearful.  She knew by Kit's letters that something had happened, even though he would never elaborate.  She didn't even pause for breath as she flung open the door.  Rebecca and Baloo looked up in mild surprise.

"Where's—where's Kit?"  She tried to breathe normally and ignore the worried looks on the older ones' faces.

"He's in his room, Cupcake."  Baloo was downcast.  "He didn't want to come down."

Molly looked puzzled.  "He didn't?"

Rebecca shook her head, her eyes glistening with unshed tears of hurt.  "Maybe if you talked to him . . . Molly, I'm afraid something dreadful has happened to him."  Baloo put his hand on her shoulder and the two exchanged looks of anxiety.

Molly didn't wait for anything more.  She climbed the steps to Kit's room and gently knocked on the door.  No answer.  "Kit?  It's me, Molly.  Can—can I come in?"  There was still no answer.  Molly thought she heard movement; there was a shuffle toward the door before it unlocked and opened in front of her.  She didn't have a chance to react as she was wrapped in the tightest hug she had ever known.  She threw her own arms around Kit, hugging him tenderly in her arms; she noticed that despite the tight hug, a cast covered Kit's left arm.  She tried to retain her composure as she felt Kit's body shaking with tears.  She nestled her head against his chest.  "You came back.  You're home."  Her own tears began to fall, wetting his olive green t-shirt.  They stood nearly motionless for nearly half an hour.  After pulling back, Molly could see the changes in Kit's gaunt face; they reminded her of the hopeless soldiers in the hospital.  She repressed a shudder and followed him to sit on the edge of the bed.  They never lost physical contact as they sat.  "Kit?"

Kit didn't say anything; he just looked at her, his eyes drinking in her lovely face.

"I love you," Molly murmured.

Finally, a slight smile brightened his face.  His voice finally emerged, not much more than a whisper.  "Oh, Molly.  I love you too."

Molly stroked the side of the face, noticing the scarring on his neck that appeared to lead under his shirt.  "Do—um, do you want to tell me . . . what happened?"

Kit's face darkened again.  He looked away, his eyes blank.  "No."

Molly was floored, but recovered well.  "That's fine."  Kit tried in vain to hide his surprise—most everyone else insisted that he tell them the whole story immediately.  He turned his face back to her.

"Is it really . . . okay?"

Molly's tears began to stream down her face as she nodded.  He sighed heavily and took her in his arms once again.  After sharing a brief warm kiss, Kit stood and held Molly's hand as he walked downstairs to see Rebecca and Baloo.

Baloo was glad to see a slight change in Kit's attitude—at least he was showing himself.  "Heya, Lil' Britches."  Kit came over and gave Baloo a hug.  Baloo choked back the extreme emotions that overcame him as he embraced Kit in return.  Kit then turned to Rebecca and gave her a heartfelt hug as well; Molly looked on in curiosity as Kit then took a seat.

"I'm only here on extended medical leave," Kit began.  "I'll be home about a month, then I've . . . I've got to go back."  His voice cracked.  Molly reached for his right hand; he took it gratefully.  The four sat in awkward silence for a few moments.  Kit breathed deeply, steeling himself.  "I know that you want to know what happened over there."

"Now, Kit-boy, if you don't wanna—"

"No, Papa Bear.  It's ok, I think."  Kit entwined his fingers with Molly's.  Tears began to stream down his cheeks as he told them about Dan, the near miss, and the final landing two weeks ago.  Rebecca handed him a tissue from a box on her desk.  She wiped at her own tears as she noticed that even Baloo's eyes were red with unshed tears of his own.  When Kit had finished, his body visibly relaxed.  He sunk deeper into the chair as Baloo put an arm around him.

"So . . . they think you'll be ready in a month to fly again?"  Baloo tried to catch Kit's eyes.

Kit sighed heavily.  "They don't know.  I may have to be assigned to paperwork, telegrams, radio operating."  He gritted his teeth and stifled a curse.

Molly caressed his hand between her own.  "Don't worry about that now.  You've got a few weeks to take it easy."  She saw Kit stiffen his back.  His eyes finally rose to hers, softening as he saw her worry.  He tried to give her a reassuring smile, but it felt impossible.

Rebecca tried to lighten the mood.  "Kit, I know you're tired, but how would you like coming over to the apartment and all of us having a nice home-cooked meal together?"

Kit finally managed a slight smile.  "I've been looking forward to it.  I usually have to pretend those rations they serve us in the field are your pork chops just to get them down."

Kit's attempt at humor relaxed all in the room.  Rebecca began to fill Kit in on all the government cargo runs Higher for Hire had been able to fulfill as Baloo just sat and gazed at his boy.  Although Baloo had been through the Great War, he had tried to make himself forget what really happened out there on the front lines.  Although there was no blood relation, he could see himself in Kit's war-glazed eyes.  Not being able to fly—Baloo couldn't imagine anything worse for Kit.  However, Baloo secretly prayed that Kit would be stationed somewhere safer than in the battlefield.  He glanced at Molly, who was also soaking in Kit's presence.  For her sake, he thought; Kit needed to be safe for her sake.

"Beckers," Baloo finally interrupted.  "Why don't we all head on to the apartment—Kit can get a decent shower and change clothes there.  Whadya think?"

Rebecca agreed, and Kit and Baloo began collecting Kit's belongings as Molly called for a taxi to pick them up.  Rebecca began sorting through her ration books, making mental notes of what she could purchase for tonight's dinner.

****

At the apartment, Kit stepped out of the shower and wrapped himself in a towel as best as he could.  It was awkward to shower without getting his cast wet, but it was wonderful to have hot water again.  He checked his still healing wounds; he concluded that there was no infection.  The stitches had only been taken out a few days ago.  He pulled on a pair of pants as he looked at the scar the fire had created on the left side of his neck.  He grimaced at the sight.  He then worked his way into a soft cotton t-shirt that he remembered from his days before the Air Force.  It smelled of detergent—real detergent, not of dried sweat covered up with cologne.  He wiggled his toes in the soft carpet and felt very young again.  A knock on the door of the bathroom and a slightly gruff voice forced him back to reality.

"Kit?  Uh, you ok?"

Kit let a smile crease his face; Baloo checking on him.  It was actually comforting.  "Yeah, Baloo.  I'm fine."  Kit opened the door, slightly amused at the sight of Baloo standing in Rebecca's bedroom.

"What?"

"Nothing."  Kit's grin was contagious, though, and Baloo started to chuckle.

"Better get used to it, kid."

"So, when's the big day?"

Baloo shrugged.  "You know Rebecca.  She wants to put it off 'till it's just right, but I'm ready any time."

"Are you really?"  Kit gently elbowed the pilot.  Baloo actually turned a bright shade of pink.

"You know, I think I am.  This old bear's ready to settle down for a spell."  Baloo sighed and looked up toward the ceiling.  "Oh, baby, I never thought I'd say that," he groaned.

It was Kit's turn to chuckle.  He shook his head and made his way out of the master bedroom to the living area.  Molly had also changed out of her nurse's uniform into a cute pair of denim Capri pants and a bright pink blouse.  Kit came up behind her as she was setting the table.  She set down the plates and snuggled against him.  She looked at him with surprise, her nose wrinkling.

"Strawberry?"

Kit looked confused, then realization struck.  "It was all you and your mom had.  I couldn't wash my hair without shampoo."  They beamed at each other, basking in the moment.  Molly kissed him on the cheek and continued setting the table.  Kit made his way over to the couch and sat down heavily.  He listened to Rebecca and Baloo laughing in the kitchen; he watched Molly place the silverware in the proper places.  It was good to be home.  The thought hit him so suddenly that it was almost painful.  Tears welled up in his eyes as he watched Molly's hands . . . one hand in particular.  The gold band shone around her finger.  He closed his eyes, imagining the future.  A final phase of courtship, the wedding, a home . . . kids.  A real life.  A real family.  A mom, a dad, a wife . . . .

"Kit?  Wake up, hon.  Everything's ready."  Kit felt Rebecca gently shaking him awake.  He must have been more tired than he thought.  He rubbed his eyes with his right hand and shook his head to clear it.  He made his way to the dinner table and let his eyes feast on the offerings.

Rebecca had splurged.  Whipped potatoes with a tiny amount of margarine, green beans, and even . . .

"Pork chops?!"  Kit's mouth dropped.  "I know you save your ration tickets, but where did you find—"

Rebecca smiled.  "I've been looking for good cuts of meat all over Cape Suzette.  I've made my own contacts."  She handed the platter to Kit.  "Help yourself."  The food continued to make its way around the table until all had their share.  The four were silent as they began to eat, but Kit couldn't help noticing that Molly's head was beginning to drop.

"Hey—are you alright?"

Molly looked a little embarrassed as Rebecca and Baloo looked at her as well.  "Oh, sure.  Just had a long day, that's all."

Rebecca's face took on an expression of motherly concern.  "Molly, honey, you've been working every day for almost a month now.  I think you're pushing yourself too hard."

Usually Molly would snap back at her mother, but she was just too tired tonight.  With Kit coming home so unexpectedly, she hadn't realized just how tired she was.  She knew she needed some down time.  "Alright, Mom.  I'll see if they'll give me some time off."

Rebecca was a little taken aback by Molly's lack of resistance, but assured herself that Kit was a part of it.  She smiled at the two of them, but still felt a tinge of concern.  She reached for another helping of green beans.

****

"Molly?  Time to get up!"  Molly winced at the sound of her mother's voice; sunlight streamed through her window.  She sat up in bed, focusing her eyes on the clock.  Ten o'clock already?  She sprang out of bed and hurried into the kitchen.

"Mom!  Why didn't you wake me up earlier?  I'm late for work!"  She shook her head in frustration and turned to head to the shower.

Rebecca calmly set down the plate she had been drying.  "Honey, I already called the hospital.  I told them-"

"Oh, Mom."  Molly groaned and in a chair at the modest kitchen table.  "How embarrassing.  They probably thought that I was trying to get out of coming in today."

Rebecca shook her head and placed some clean silverware in a drawer.  "They said it was fine—they were actually just about to call and tell you that you didn't need to come in today."

Molly gave her mother a skeptical look.  "Are you sure?"

"Of course, sweetie.  They said that you've been working overtime and they've been worried about you.  Nurse Ross said that she wanted you to get some rest."  Rebecca smiled to herself.  "And she also said that you needed some quality time with your beau."

Molly's eyes widened as she blushed.  "I guess . . . I have been talking a lot about Kit."  She stretched and yawned.  "Thanks, Mom.  I'm sorry that I've been out so much lately."  She sighed.  "I really didn't realize how much I'd been working."

Rebecca sat down next to her.  "It runs in the family, sweetie."  She covered her daughter's hand with her own.  "Molly, I—I just want you to know . . . "  Rebecca stopped, unsure of how to continue.  "I want you to know—that I trust you.  And I love you."

Molly looked very confused.  "Mom, I know you mean well, but what are you talking about?"

"About you and Kit."  Molly blushed again, but Rebecca continued.  "I'm pretty sure you know about where he got the ring."  Molly looked at Rebecca innocently.  "It was my wedding ring from your dad."  Rebecca paused again to gain her composure.  "I wanted you to have it—and I can't think of a more special man than Kit to have given it to you."

"Mom," Molly interjected.  "We haven't talked about anything—"

"I know, hon.  I just wanted you to know—that it was—that it is—all right with me."  Rebecca swallowed joyful tears.

Molly smiled.  "Thanks, Mom.  That means so much to me."

Rebecca cradled her daughter's face with her hands.  "I know that your sixteenth birthday is coming up in a few months.  You're becoming a young lady.  And I want you to know that I'm proud of you."  Rebecca's eyes welled with tears and she pulled Molly to her.  Molly returned the hug with all the strength she had.

"I love you, Mom."

"I love you too, Molly."

"Mom?"  Molly pulled away a bit.  "When are you and Baloo going to finally get married?"

Rebecca laughed softly and wiped her eyes.  "I haven't even thought about a date."

"Why don't you two get married while Kit is on medical leave?  I mean, it's perfect!"

"Now, Molly, I don't want to rush into any—"

"Aw, Mom, you decided ages ago that you wanted to marry Baloo.  I think it's time."  Molly squeezed her mother into another tight hug.  "I can help you pick out a dress, Kit can counsel Baloo . . . "

The two laughed together, the first prolonged and honest laughter they had shared in a long time.  "Honey, why don't you go get dressed?  We'll go out on the town."

Molly cheered at this remark.  "Sure, Mom."  She got up from the table and took a few steps toward the bathroom before turning back.  "Oh, can I call Kit first?  I just want to make sure he had a good night back home."

"Of course."  Rebecca continued to dry dishes.  "If he'd like to join us at some point, he's more than welcome."

Molly carefully dialed the Higher for Hire number.  After a few rings, a sleepy Baloo answered the phone.

"Is Kit awake?"

Baloo mumbled something unintelligible before clearing his throat.  "Uhhh, maybe.  Hold on, Cupcake."  Molly twisted the phone cord until Baloo came back on the line.  "Molly, he's still asleep.  If you want to come back later, it might be better."

"Thanks, Baloo.  Bye."  Molly placed the phone back in the cradle.  "Mom, can we go by there later?"

"I have some work to do anyway, so yes."

"Oh, come on, Mom!  You want me to rest, but you're going to work?"

"I told you—it runs in the family!"

Molly just shook her head, then went to take a shower.

****

Flames.  Explosions.  Pain.

Kit awoke with a start, his body drenched in sweat.  He was tangled in his sheets, his arm aching.  He bit his tongue to prevent himself from using the harsh language he had been accustomed to hearing.  He tried to make his body relax, but it was no use.  He finally pulled himself out of bed and padded to the bathroom.  He put the stopper in the bathtub drain and began to run water.  He sank into the bathtub once it was filled, letting the water soothe his body.  His thoughts drifted as he soaked.  There was a knock at the door.

"Yeah, Baloo?"

"Molly called about an hour ago.  Told her you were still sleepin'.  She and Becky are comin' by later."

"Thanks, Papa Bear."  He heard Baloo walk back down the stairs to the main office area.  Kit sighed.  It was so strange not to be with his company, with his battle brothers.  He hoped that the runs were going well without him.  He remembered the remark the medic had made about getting a medal.  He smirked as he washed his battered body; no medal was worth this.  His left arm made it still difficult to bathe, but he did the best he could to wash off the sweat from the night terrors.  The dreams made him nervous; would they ever go away?  Was Molly going to have to live with him not sleeping through the night?  He closed his eyes in shame.  What kind of life were they going to have together with him as he was?  Another knock on the door scattered his thoughts.

"Kit?  Doin' ok in there?"

"Uh, sure.  Be out in a minute."  Kit reluctantly left his bath, allowed the water to drain, toweled off as much as possible, then put on clean clothes.  He ran a comb through his damp hair, then made his way downstairs to join Baloo.

"Doughnut?"  Baloo spoke around a full mouth.  Crumbs showered Baloo's chest.  Kit shook his head.

"No thanks."  Kit sat in the ragged armchair.  He sighed, then breathed in the familiar smells of Higher for Hire.  Jet fuel, oil, stale doughnuts, and Rebecca's perfume.  Nothing had changed.

"Whatcha thinkin' about, Lil' Britches?"

Kit shook his head again, cradling his cast.  "Just about how much I missed this place."

Baloo grew somber.  "We've sure missed you, Lil' Britches.  It's good to have you back."

"It's not for good, you know."

"I know."

Silence.

"Papa Bear?"

"Hmmm?"

"What did—what did you do when you got out of the war?"

Baloo ate another doughnut slowly before answering.  "Well, I had the Sea Duck.  My baby was my home.  I docked at Louie's, mostly.  Did some freelance cargo runnin', then made enough shaboozies to start my own business here before Becky came around."

Kit sat for a moment, staring at his arm.  "Oh.  I was just wondering."

"Kit, I've been there.  It's tough comin' home."  Kit looked at him in surprise.  "I know, it's great to be back, but you feel like somethin's missin'."  Kit nodded thoughtfully as Baloo continued.  "Son, you'll learn to fit back in.  It's rough, but you gotta roll with what the world throws at you."  Baloo grinned and winked.  "And you got yourself a sweet little thing here waitin' for you."

Kit couldn't help but to smile at that.  "I know, Baloo."  His face fell again.  "That's what I'm worried about."

"What then?"

"Face it, Papa Bear.  I don't have a house, and the only job I've got here is navigating and flying on your days off.  And that's not going to support us."

"Look, Kit, there's always a place for you here."

"I know.  It's just that—I want to make it on my own, you know?"

Baloo placed a fatherly paw on Kit's shoulder.  "I know."

"And . . ." Kit's voice trailed off.  "Baloo, I love Molly."  Baloo nodded.  "I want to marry her—now, if I could."  He sighed.  "But I have nothing to give her.  We have nowhere to live, no stable jobs . . ."

"Kit, if you had to, couldn't you and Molly . . . never mind, boy.  You've got some time before you have to think about that, doncha?"  Kit nodded reluctantly.  "Besides, Molly's doin' pretty good at that nursin' job.  She'll be fine."

"As long as she doesn't kill herself doing it."

Baloo sighed and squeezed Kit's shoulder.  "Runs in the bloodline, Lil' Britches.  Get used to it."

****