Chapter 2. Future Navy Wives Association
Saturday morning found Pete and Penny back at The Hard Deck, cleaning and preparing for the 5 pm rush. Amelia, Penny's daughter from her first marriage, sat at the bar eating some pancakes with a glass of fresh orange juice. She had a few school books with her, and was dutifully finishing up her homework in exchange for a day at the mall with her friends.
"Pete, you should have seen him! He was sidelined by Hangman!" Penny followed Pete through the staff doors and into the bar.
"Pen, Rooster can handle himself. He sent me a text this morning and said he was going to stop by Kate's house and see if she needed any help unpacking boxes." Pete stepped behind the bar and started drying the glasses the came fresh out of the washer.
"You didn't see his face, Pete." Penny insisted, recalling how Hangman shamelessly flirted with Kate last night, and how Rooster looked dejected and, at times, furious. As much as Pete knew the history between Rooster and Hangman, and how it was a messy history, he also knew Rooster was resourceful and had a heart of gold.
"Not to play on puns, but Penny, Hangman will wind up in the noose eventually. He is not the type to settle down."
"Neither were you." Penny shot back with a raised brow.
"Fair." Pete set his drying cloth on the bar, "What can any of us do? Rooster is a grown man; he can fight his own battles."
"That's what I'm worried about." Penny's eyes found Pete's, "All is fair in love and war."
"I don't get the impression that Kate is the type to find Hangman's flaky behavior an attractive quality. He will find success with the women that frequent this establishment…" Pete trailed off.
"Oh, you mean the women who can't match their foundation to their fake tans and have imitation Chanel and Louis Vuitton bags. They always wear tops that are too low cut and seem like they were plucked from the time period between 2007 and 2012." Penny giggled.
At that same moment in time, Rooster found himself walking up the front walk to Kate's home on Ocean Street. He trotted up the steps and onto the covered porch where the porch swing was gently swaying in the cool ocean breeze.
"Come on, Rooster." he told himself, "just ring the doorbell. Man up." He reached forward and pressed his index finger into the tiny round button. The classic ding-dong rang through the house, but there were no footsteps indicating that Kate was even home. He slid over to the front window that bordered the porch and the living room/dining room. No one was inside, but Kate's cream-colored leather tote was sitting on the edge of the couch.
He decided to knock, gently. As soon as he finished rapping his knuckles against the wooden door, he heard soft footsteps coming up the walk behind him. He turned to see Kate, clearly coming back from an early morning run. She wore a sports bra, long leggings, and a Chicago Blackhawk's baseball cap on her head. Her hair was pulled into a long ponytail that hung down her back. Her skin glistened with a thin layer of sweat.
She was staring down at her phone with a pair of earbuds in her ears. Rooster stepped sideways and waved. At first, she looked surprised, but lit up with a beaming smile,
"Hey! Rooster!" She hurried up the porch steps, "I'm sorry we didn't get to speak much last night." She pulled the earbuds from her ears and unlocked the front door, "Come on in." He happily followed her inside.
"I didn't realize you're such an early riser." He mused, "I just stopped by to see if you needed any more help unpacking." He eyed a stack of boxes on the kitchen island and beside the hallway.
"You must be a mind reader." she smiled, "I still have a lot of boxes to get through."
"Well, put me to work." He laughed.
The pair worked through box after box and around 10 am—what seemed like half the day had passed, but in reality, it was only a couple of hours, the doorbell rang once again. Kate slowly maneuvered to get up, but Rooster insisted,
"You stay—I'll grab the door." He knew she had been intently sorting small kitchen items (measuring spoons and cups, a turkey baster, etc.), and he didn't want her to lose that laser focus—no doubt a trait that made her a world class researcher. Hopping to his feet he moved to the door and opened it. Staring back at him, with a bouquet of beautiful flowers—Hangman.
"Well, these are not for you, Rooster." Hangman jeered, "Is the lovely Kate here?" As Hangman moved to step into the house, Rooster blocked his rival's entry with his arm,
"Why are you here?" Rooster grumbled under his breath. Hangman smiled,
"Same reason you are, it seems." In an instant, Kate seemed to materialize at the door,
"Jake!" she beamed, "What are you doing here?" He thrust the flowers past Rooster and into her hands,
"Looks like Rooster and I had the same idea this morning—do you want any help unpacking?"
"Many hands make light the work." she quoted, "Thank you for the flowers—they are gorgeous." Rooster rolled his eyes and moved out of the way, letting Hangman step into the house. Kate hurried over to the kitchen sink and filled the basin with a bit of water. She took the flowers out of the paper wrap and placed the stems in the water, filled a vase with some water, then proceeded to cut the stems under the water.
Rooster immediately remembered that his mother, Carol Bradshaw, used to cut the flowers that way.
"That is the most interesting way of putting flowers in a vase." Hangman mused. Before Kate could reply, Rooster interjected,
"It keeps air bubbles from getting in the stem and killing the flowers."
"I never knew that." Hangman said as he leaned over the sink to watch Kate meticulously cut each individual stem and quickly transfer it to the vase. Rooster's attitude changed to one of solemn remembrance as he thought of his mother. Kate took notice,
"Rooster?" she asked, snapping him back into reality, "Is everything alright?"
"Yeah, sorry." He pulled another box from the stack and opened it up, "Just lost in thought." Kate placed the vase of flowers on the center of the kitchen island and the trio continued unpacking kitchen boxes.
"This is a lot of work for temporary housing." Kate mumbled.
"Maybe it won't turn out to be temporary." Hangman said as he dropped a potato masher into the 'odds and ends' drawer. Every kitchen had a drawer where all the odd shaped, rarely used, but necessary tools were kept. This drawer never seemed to open without something catching it, for which one had to squeeze their hand in a narrow slit between drawer and cabinet frame to haphazardly dislodge it, thus opening the drawer.
"What do you mean?" Kate asked. Her voice was sincere, as if she wondered why he thought she'd stick around past her contract, or maybe he thought she loved the house enough to buy it from Bob Benjamin.
"I just think you never know what is around the bend—you never know where you'll be a year from now." Hangman spoke gently. Rooster let out his breath, exasperated by Hangman's attempts.
"Well, I do have to return to my position at Northwestern." She reminded, "I was granted a yearlong sabbatical for this contractor position. And the university requires that I remain employed there for 2 years following the sabbatical."
"So, you mean to tell me that you really can tell me where you'll be one year from now." Hangman laughed lightly.
"What about the two of you? Have you ever considered what you'll do if or when flying is no longer an option?" She asked the pilots.
"I think I'll aim for a senior officer position." Hangman said.
"I want to teach for Topgun." Rooster replied.
"And lest we forget, Rooster—we can also choose a partner from the FNWA, get married, have a herd of kids!"
"The what?" Kate asked. Rooster chuckled,
"It stands for the Future Navy Wives Association."
"Is that a real thing?" Kate was confused, very confused.
"Penny nicknamed a certain group of women who frequent The Hard Deck and they are all after one thing-"
"Navy husbands!" Hangman nearly choked on his laughter. Rooster spoke up,
"Don't get me wrong—I've gone out with a few—they are lovely women, but they are absolutely desperate to get married." Kate's face was painted with shock. Her jaw dropped and her left eyebrow raised,
"You dated them?" Rooster felt his stomach sink. He immediately wished he could take it back. Why had he admitted that?
"Only a few. Very short relationships. I knew right away they were only wanting marriage…"
"And you don't want to get married?" Kate seemed just as surprised. Hangman sat back and enjoyed watching Rooster dig himself deeper and deeper into an imaginary hole.
"Well, someday, yes. But I'm in a very good place, career wise…"
"Stop while you're ahead." Hangman whispered. There was a long period of silence following that. All three looked back and forth at each other and at the floor. After a sufficiently awkward time, Kate finally spoke,
"So, what exactly are these FNWA ladies like? I need to know so I don't accidentally get mistaken as one when I'm at The Hard Deck." The pilots laughed and the tension cleared from the room.
"Well," Rooster began, "Since I'm the expert, let me tell you...they are easily identifiable by one major characteristic-"
"FAKE TAN!" Hangman blurted. The trio erupted into laughter.
"Oh, and they all wear the same things, patterned V-neck shirts that are too tight and cut too low." Rooster added.
"What was that one's name? Brittney? Bethany?" Hangman tried hard to remember Rooster's most recent exploits.
"BETHANY!" Rooster burst, "She was something else."
"I remember," Hangman recalled, he turned his body directly to address Kate, "We were all playing darts and Rooster here was sitting in a chair, waiting for his turn—this woman walks up to him and just sits on his lap!" He mimicked the event, and continued, "Then—as if that wasn't bad enough—she told Rooster she'd give him a-"
"Okay, Hangman, that's enough." Rooster uncomfortably pushed back.
"I was just going to say, she was offering you a ride back to the barracks." It was clear to Kate, that that was not the accurate portrayal of the story.
"Melissa was the worst." Rooster quickly tried to change the subject.
"She stole your flight jacket!" Hangman barked, "That is an unforgivable sin."
"Flight jacket?" Kate asked.
"The green ones with the patches." Rooster informed Kate by pulling up a picture of his jacket on his phone.
"Did you get it back?"
"I did. But Pete had to send the MP's after her because she had snuck onto base and taken it out of my locker."
"She snuck onto base!?" Kate was floored by that, "Is she in jail now?"
"Actually…" Hangman chuckled, "She is."
"She was arrested for theft of materials from a military installation." Rooster filled in the details, "Needless to say, she and I didn't work out."
"Sounds like you are batting at zero." Kate giggled lightly, teasing Rooster somewhat.
"For now…" Rooster's eyes met Kate's before she shyly glanced away; she was so captivating. Even having come back from an early morning run on this day, to meet him at the door and let him help her unpack boxes of kitchen trinkets. She didn't know anyone, she was new to the area, but she was kind, and—he wagered—somewhat lonely. Perhaps that was why she had been so willing to include he and Hangman. Moving to a new place, halfway across the country, to take a job that was filled with high expectations and little guidance—she was a remarkable person.
"So…" Hangman began, "What's your story, Kate? You move all the way across the country, basically, to work for the Navy? Who broke your heart?" He teased.
"Funny you should say that…" she became very quiet, "I did end a long-term relationship." She didn't seem very willing to share more details, but Rooster wanted to know,
"What happened?"
"That's a story for when I've known you both longer than a day or so." She climbed to her feet and took the last of the kitchen trinkets to the odds-and-ends drawer. Hangman and Rooster exchanged glances. They hadn't expected her to shut them down so effortlessly.
"Well," she said with a gentle smile, "I do have a lot of work to do in preparation for Monday. I suppose I'll see you both on base sometime." Rooster and Hangman knew their welcome had been worn out. They respectfully made their way out the front door and watched Kate close the door behind them.
"Way to go, dingus." Hangman hissed.
"What? Me?! I wasn't the one bringing up her broken heart!"
"But you asked what happened!"
"Oh, shut up."
"Maybe next time, you shut up, let her volunteer the information." They both got in their vehicles and drove off toward base.
Kate had watched them bicker from her spot in the front room. She had a strange feeling about the two of them; a feeling she couldn't quite describe. Was she attracted to both of them? She barely knew them! No. This had to be a rebound syndrome. In truth, Kate had been in a long-term relationship—4 years—he was an administrator with Roosevelt University in Chicago. They had met at one of the Chicago Symphony concerts—both wound up going solo, but bumped into each other during intermission. They hit it off immediately. Both had a love of music and science—his was psychology, and hers computational biology. One date led to another, and another, and a year later, they had moved into a condo in Chicago's Gold Coast, just off Lake Shore Drive, with spectacular lake views. Everything was going so well, until one day—not that long ago—Kate had to borrow his car while hers was in the shop. She thought her phone had paired with the car, but it was a second phone her boyfriend had never told her about, and he kept it in the glove box of the car. She had pulled into the lot of her building at Northwestern when a slew of explicit text messages came in, asking if he was there, and if his girlfriend was gone. These messages displayed on the 10-inch display on the dash board. One after the next. If they were going to meet at Kate and his place or at this mystery woman's place. Kate was in disbelief at discovering the phone. She tried the usual code to his phone and it worked, the text messages went back years with multiple different women—most of whom were students at local universities—UIC, Columbia Chicago, U of Chicago, etc. She'd had no idea. He had hidden it so well. She found connections between text chains—he would tell Kate he had a meeting—but in actuality, he was meeting one of these women.
Kate walked into the building that day, a shell of a person. She couldn't teach, she couldn't research, all she could do was cry in the basement bathroom where only the janitor and odd graduate student could hear her. She spent that night in her office, sleeping in the chair her students usually sat in when they sought out her help during office hours. She called out sick the next day and drove home when her boyfriend was at work—he could take a taxi over to his office if it was too cold. She packed all her things with the help of her family, and was gone that night. The landlord had graciously removed her from the lease after she explained the situation. She moved in with her sibling that lived just outside of Chicago.
Kate had brought him to family dinners, and on family vacations, and all the while he was cheating. When he discovered her gone, he sent one simple text:
"I take it you found out I was cheating." She never responded, and he never reached out again. He was unapologetic, unremorseful, and it was apparent he had done this before. He used a relationship with a professional, put together woman, to hide his questionable messing around with 19 and 20 year old college girls who were baristas and waitresses. Shortly after the implosion of her relationship, Kate received a phone call from a Colonel with the DoD; he was interested in her use of qrtPCR in quick detection kits that she had developed. Kate scheduled a virtual meeting with him and a few other DoD folks, and the rest is history. She was offered the civilian contracting position almost immediately. Eager for a change of scenery—mostly to avoid bumping into her now ex—she accepted.
Kate had been working on her computer and server set up for most of the afternoon when a knock fell upon her door. She reluctantly paused her cord management task, and crawled out from underneath the desk to answer the door. Still in her running gear from earlier, she realized she smelled a little like dried sweat. Oh, well. Pulling open the door she saw Hangman standing there,
"Jake?" She was surprised to see him there, but moved aside to welcome him in her new home. He paused,
"I don't want to take up your time—I know you're busy, but I felt awful about how we left things this morning. It wasn't our place to pry, and you are 100% correct that you've only known Rooster and me for a day. And in that time, however short that it is, I know that you are a remarkable woman." She smiled gently,
"Thank you, Jake." He rubbed his hand on the back of his neck nervously. This was not like him, but she didn't know that. Usually, he was the picture of confidence and perhaps a little too cocky at times as well. Some might have even labeled him a jerk or worse. He felt his nerves begin to make his heart race and stomach churn. What was happening to him? He was like a nervous teenager trying to talk to his crush.
"I hope it's not too forward of me, but I'd like to ask you out—tonight-nothing formal yet, just a nice evening at The Hard Deck. Maybe we play some darts—not pool, because you'll wipe the floors with me." She laughed.
"Alright." She agreed. He couldn't help but smile. She was gorgeous, inside and out.
"But…" she started, "I do need to get some reading done tonight, and I think you might be the right person to help me. Can I bring it with?" He raised a brow and she explained further by scooping up a thick text manual from her tote bag by the door—a book that he knew all too well with its sky-blue cover and open binding.
NATOPS FLIGHT MANUAL
NAVY MODEL
F/A-18 E/F
165533 AND UP
AIRCRAFT
"So, this is a work date?" He asked slyly. She chuckled,
"Only if we don't have fun."
"Believe me—there is nothing fun in the NATOPS manual. It's all technical language."
"And that's part of what I need to know for my work. I can handle calculations, and understand the physics of flight, but I don't know the first thing about piloting and handling the aircraft. You do. You know when there is an uneven stream of air on your wings or if you experience a strong headwind, you can feel it in the way the plane behaves—none of that is covered in the technical manual."
He marveled at her. Sure, he had dated women before, but most of them were purely for satisfaction, fulfilling a loneliness need. He was never fully taken by them. One might have had a nice figure or pretty hair, a tolerable face. But Kate—no-Kate was the complete package. Here she stood before him, still in her morning running gear, hair stringy and greasy from sweating under her baseball cap, skin beginning to show the soft sun kissed glow after one day in the California sun. Her figure was lean, but toned, and her face—gently angular, with the perfect balance of feminine features—pink cheeks and lips, soft brown eyes, and best of all, a brilliant mind to keep up with.
"Jake?" she asked after a moment of him staring.
"Sorry…" he whispered, "PTSD from reading NATOPS." he laughed it off.
"Oh." she lightly laughed, "It's definitely a hard read." she admitted as she placed the manual back in her tote bag.
"Since you used the word date…" he began, "How about I pick you up around 6, we grab a bite at the hotdog stand down the way—keeping it casual-" he reminded, "and then head over to The Hard Deck for a little light reading and some drinks out back by the fire pit, maybe play a round of darts when the rest of the topgun crew gets in, and end the evening with a walk down the beach before I drive you home." Kate glanced at her watch; it was already 4:30.
"That sounds good—I better get cleaned up." And with that they parted ways and Hangman trotted down the porch steps with a pep in his step.
At 6 pm sharp, Hangman knocked on Kate's front door. He had seen her sitting on the couch when he walked up and now, he watched her hop up and open the door. She stood before him, casually dressed in a pair of white, mid-thigh, chino shorts that showed off her toned and tanned long legs, and a denim blue chambray button down shirt that was haphazardly tucked into the left hip side of her shorts and the sleeves carefreely rolled up her mid forearm. Her hair was pulled back into that classic messy bun, and her makeup was only done to subtly enhance her features. It would have been completely undetectable if not for the gentle enhancement the mascara gave her already long eyelashes. He felt like the luckiest man in the world.
"Wow." he breathed out, "You nailed the work date look." She nervously brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear and smiled. Quickly, she slid her feet into a pair of tan leather flipflops and stepped out onto the porch to lock the door behind her. Jake offered her his arm, like a gentleman, and she took it with a smile. The pair headed down the front walk, where he quickly opened the passenger side door of his white Camaro and helped her in.
They drove down Ocean Street past the hotdog stand and parked in The Hard Deck's lot, before getting out and backtracking on foot to the stand for their dinner. They sat on a bench that faced the cool Pacific Ocean. The breeze was refreshing as they enjoyed a casual meal.
"So, Jake," she began after she finished a bite of her Chicago Style Dog, "What made you choose Naval Aviation?" He wiped the ketchup and mustard from the corner of his mouth with the brown paper napkin,
"I come from a long line of sailors." He said, "Revolutionary war—long."
"Oh wow." She took a bite as he continued,
"There was never any doubt in my mind. My dad served on a destroyer during Desert Storm, my grandfather was in Korea, great grandfather fought in the first world war—so, I suppose you might say it's genetic." He took a quick bite to finish his hotdog and then asked her a question,
"What about you, why did you choose—what was it—super computer biology engineering?"
"Biosystems Engineering and Bioinformatics." she corrected, "I like computers and I like biology. I never thought I'd contract for the Navy, but I knew early on in my masters program that I wanted to teach. So, after I came to that realization, it was a matter of checking the boxes to get me there. When I finished my doctorate, I started a post-doc with a research group at MIT, and two years later, I got the job at Northwestern."
"What are you most proud of—in your career?" He asked. It was a genuine question; he saw the way she spoke about teaching and knew she had a heart of gold.
"I would have to say...I'm most proud of the Nature paper I published with a student of mine. She was the first in her family to go to college, and we put together an amazing bioinformatic web tool to find transposons in mitochondria-" she stopped suddenly to gauge his level of understanding,
"Oh—I have no idea what you are saying—it sounds like a different language—but I enjoy the passion you have while saying it." he smiled.
"Sorry…" she sheepishly finished, "So, we wrote a great paper and after a few rounds of revisions, it was published in Nature—probably one of the most prestigious journals." They finished their meal and started walking back to The Hard Deck. Since they were already heading down the beach board walk, Jake suggested,
"Why don't you grab us a seat at one of the picnic tables out back, and I'll grab the drinks and meet you."
"Sure." She turned to head to the ocean facing side of The Hard Deck where the patio was, and she felt Jake grasp her hand and squeeze. She looked at him, and although he wore a pair of mirrored aviators, she knew that this was the genuine him. They smiled at each other and temporarily parted ways. Kate dropped her tote bag on one of the picnic tables and sat with her back facing the table on the bench. She stared out at the cool ocean and let the breeze wash over her. The lazy sun hung lower on the horizon, but not so low that there wasn't enough light for reading the NATOPS manual.
Inside, Jake hurried up to Penny at the bar and ordered two bottled beers,
"I'll have to run to the back and grab them out of the fridge if you want them cold—I just gave the last two to the FNWA over there." Penny gestured to a group of 6 women sitting around a prominently positioned table in the center of the bar. They all wore boldly patterned, low cut V-neck tops and tight jeans with rhinestones on their back pockets (no doubt to draw attention to their backsides). As soon as Penny headed toward the back to grab his order, the FNWA started whispering about him. He could hear every word because the bar was relatively empty this early on a Saturday night.
"...god he looks good…" one said.
"...that charcoal t-shirt...mmmmmhmmm" one commented on his fitted charcoal gray t-shirt.
"...that sexy tan!"
"...those jeans!"
"I wonder if he is a sailor…"
"Girl—please-he is ALL sailor…"
"Look at his watch—pilot!"
"I wonder if he's single and ready to mingle!" After a few more minutes of loud whispering, one finally announced,
"...I'll go find out." Up stood a curvy woman with heavily bleached blond hair that looked overly flat ironed to the point that her hair was more straw like than actual hair. She adjusted her wildly patterned top and gave her hair a quick flip over her shoulder before wagging her hips left and right as she approached Jake, no doubt to get is attention.
Jake stood straight on with the bar, his elbows plastered to the shiny oaken surface, his eyes glued to the dual swinging door, waiting—praying-that Penny would reappear quickly with the beers he had just ordered.
"Hey there sailor." the woman leaned on the bar; she was so close that her elbow intentionally brushed against his arm. He quickly recoiled, and slid away.
"I'm Demi—like Demi Moore." the woman was nothing, if not persistent, "What's your name?"
"Hangman." he replied with a deadpan tone, and barely a glance in her direction.
"Hungman?" she flirtatiously teased, making poor sexual innuendos.
"Alright, Penny—any time now." he prayed under his breath. Demi reached up and tousled his sandy blonde hair,
"You have gorgeous hair. You know? I'm a hair dresser just off Center Street. Come see me and I'll take good care of you."
"Sorry, Ma'am, I am loyal to the Navy barber on base." he hoped she'd get the hint. But unfortunately, she didn't, and he was growing more and more uncomfortable by the second.
"Are you gonna buy me a drink, sweetie?" she touched his arm, and once again he pulled away. This woman repulsed him. He glanced back to see Kate sitting with her back to The Hard Deck, loose strands of her hair fluttered about in the breeze. Demi grabbed his hand, demanding his attention,
"I said, are you gonna buy me a drink—I'll make it worth your while." She reached toward his belt. He quickly stopped her hand,
"Ma'am…" he warned.
"I'm not old enough for you to call me Ma'am." she scolded in a voice that sounded like something from a romance novel. She reached for his belt again and this time Jake took a leap back from her.
"Ma'am please." he held his hand out, palm facing the woman, as if he were a traffic cop telling her to stop.
"I like you, hungman."
"It's Hangman."
"You must be a pilot." she tried to seductively whisper in his ear, and he jolted further away. They had managed to move a good two feet further down the bar.
"Yes, ma'am, I am."
"And that smoooooooth southern drawl you have!" she bit her lip, "So hot!" Jake nearly gagged. Just then, Kate's cool tone, cut through the tension,
"Jake?" He immediately turned to her, his face exhausted from Demi's sexual harassment. Demi leaned over and gave Kate the age old once up and once down look over, and it was immediately apparent that Demi felt threatened by Kate. The FNWA member stood up straighter and put her hands on her hips, as if to say bring it on, sister.
"Who are you?" Demi crowed.
"I could ask you the same thing." Kate replied, her dark eyes peering into the woman.
"He didn't say he was taken…" Demi trailed off, as if she were the innocent party. Kate took an imposing step toward the woman, and Jake felt his heart leap. Kate was nearly a head taller than Demi,
"He shouldn't have to." Kate whispered dangerously to Demi. The FNWA member shirked back somewhat,
"Well, woman to woman, your man was flirting with me and didn't say he was single." Kate looked back at Jake, and knew this was not the case. Jake watched the satisfied look of successful meddling wash over Demi's face, but even he couldn't have predicted what happened next. Kate took his hand and stepped in close, so close that he could feel her body pressed against his. Instinctively, he wrapped his free arm around her waist and rested his hand on the small of her back. Kate looked up at him, and he felt his heart leap out of his chest. This was love. That was what it was. Love at first sight. She winked at him, and he couldn't help but smile. Then, she turned back to Demi,
"I'm not worried." She said cooly, "I know he'll never stray." She pressed her hand into his chest, and he reached up to cover her delicate hand with his own. Kate looked back at him,
"I'll be outside at the picnic table." And with that, she stood on her toes and brushed a sweet kiss on his already blushing cheek, before heading out the door to the back patio.
Demi stood there in partial shock, knowing she had been thoroughly beaten by Kate. Jake felt like his heart was about to beat out of his chest. Kate was everything he had dreamed of. He had never felt this way about a woman before.
At this exact moment, Rooster was calling Kate's phone; he was hoping he could ask her out to The Hard Deck this evening. Little did he know that her phone was nestled in her tote bag, placed on the picnic table, while she was inside The Hard Deck with Jake. Rooster grabbed the keys to his Bronco and decided to swing by her place before heading over to The Hard Deck.
Penny eventually returned with an apology to Jake,
"Sorry—Pete and Jimmy were unloading kegs—I had to hold doors." She plunked the two light beers on the counter and Jake paid,
"Keep the change, Penny, my dear." he grabbed the beers and turned toward the patio; he practically bolted outside to sit with Kate. As he sat down beside her and he saw that she had pulled out the NATOPS manual. She had a pencil tucked behind her right ear, and there were post-it notes plastered around the edges of the pages, creating little tabs.
"I think we're going to need some of this," he handed Kate one of the beers, "before we dive into the NATOPS manual…" They clinked beer bottles and then started their work date. Kate began asking questions almost immediately,
"How accurate are the tolerance ranges for airframe flexibility?"
"Not very." He gestured to the plane diagram on the page, "Wings are more flexible than the body, but the body can take more force than the wings."
"Six of one, half a dozen of the other." She mused as she pulled the mechanical pencil from behind her ear and she started to scribble some notes. Another post-it note with the label tolerances was quickly placed on the edge of the page. She flipped through a few more pages and started asking some more questions,
"Payload drag…"
"What about it?" he leaned in as he straddled the picnic table bench. Kate mirrored him, turning her body, and throwing a leg over the bench. They sat straddling the bench, his knees touching her knees, the NATOPS manual sat between them.
"How noticeable is it...for you as the pilot and how does it affect your ability to control the plane?"
"Minimally noticeable. A heavy payload is worst when there's a strong side wind." He took another swig of beer and placed his hand, inadvertently, on Kate's knee. She didn't flinch or pull away, she was lost in the NATOPS manual, scribbling in the margins, placing her post-it note tabs. He could see how focused she was. Every now and then she would bite the eraser on the pencil while she was thinking. It was her tell. The tell that she was deep in thought and that her brilliant mind was churning.
"Let's talk physics—payload and G's."
"Now you're talking nerdy to me!" Jake chuckled. She gave him a look, and if looks could kill, she would have pierced him through the heart. He was thoroughly enjoying himself.
"Payload is affected by Gs. We also have to be mindful of when we fire a missile, what its trajectory is, and how quickly it will arc—that is a completely different manual though." He raised his beer bottle, "And we will need a lot more of these to get through that one—believe me."
"HANGMAN!" Came a booming voice from the patio doors. Kate jolted with surprise as Rooster stalked through the doors and right up to Jake.
"What are you doing, man?" Rooster was clearly upset. Jake stood up and both were inches away from each other—face to face—ready to brawl.
"Gentlemen." Kate said cooly, "Let's all calm down." She positioned herself partially between them, separating the pilots. Phoenix, Bob, and Payback hurried out and pulled Rooster back. He stalked inside. Kate glanced over at Jake,
"Let me talk to him." she touched his arm and started inside after Rooster.
Rooster was already up at the bar, draining a bottle of beer. He slammed the empty bottle onto the counter and beckoned Penny over for another, which he quickly started emptying into his mouth. Kate stepped up next to him,
"Is this seat taken?" she asked. He scoffed,
"Bagman doesn't mind you talking to me?" Kate sat down on the bar stool and spoke softly,
"I don't know what has upset you this much-"
"You, Kate. You...being here with Jake, and not me." Kate's heart raced,
"It's not a competition, Rooster."
"Everything is a competition with him. He's using you to piss me off. And I don't want to see you get hurt."
"I'm a big girl, Bradley...I can take care of myself." He ran a hand through his caramel brown hair,
"I like you, Kate. I called you to see if you wanted to go out with me tonight. I even swung by your place before I came here. And when I saw you here with him…" he trailed off, then downed the last swig of this bottle before eyeing Penny for another. He was beginning to act inebriated.
"You know…" he started before taking a long gulp from the fresh bottle, "I've never met anyone like you, you're smart, gorgeous, funny...I thought—what the hell, Rooster—shoot your shot. Who knows—she might like you back. It figures Bagman would be the one you choose. He's always been the ladies' favorite." Penny's jaw dropped and she covered her forehead with her hand out of embarrassment for Rooster. She prayed he was drunk and could explain this away tomorrow. Kate placed a hand on his shoulder and leaned in to whisper in his ear,
"Let's talk tomorrow when you're less drunk." As she stood and began to walk away, he grasped hold of her wrist and pulled her back to him; she fell back down onto the bar stool.
"What do you see in him?" He demanded.
"You're drunk—I'm not doing this here or now." Kate wrenched her wrist from his grasp and this time Rooster wasn't fast enough to catch her. He tumbled over, and to the FNWA watching the scene unfold, it was like sharks smelling blood in the water. A drunken sailor was future husband material. All they had to do was go to bed with him, get pregnant, and it was an instant proposal. The FNWA women began circling and all Rooster had tunnel vision for was Kate walking away from him.
"KATE!" he yelled as he climbed to his feet, "KATE!" Demi and the other FNWA were already there to caress his fractured ego.
"Don't worry about her...she's a stuck up bitch anyway." Demi said coldly. She helped him to his feet, and started grabbing at him. He shook her off,
"Get away from me." As he did that, Demi tumbled back into another FNWA member, and it was like watching dominoes- they all tumbled down onto the floor of The Hard Deck.
One of the sailors sitting at the bar, witnessing the event, reached over and rang the infamous you bought the bar a round bell. As the sign says, 'Disrespect a lady, the Navy, or put your cellphone on my bar, you buy a round.'
"He disrespected the lady!" the sailor shouted. The bar erupted into a fit of cheers as Jake peeked through the patio doors to see Kate walking away from Rooster, who was now on the hook, paying for a round for the bar.
Not much later, Jake and Kate made their way back through the bar. Rooster's eyes never left Kate; his gaze followed her through the crowd. Jake wrapped his arm around her, to guide her through the sea of sailors, but also to protect her from an unwanted butt-cheek squeezing, or boob-brush (as they called it). They made it to the front door and Kate looked back, her eyes met Rooster's and she smiled lightly while mouthing the words good night, Rooster. But he was drunk, and he wouldn't remember much after that.
Jake beckoned her to his car, opened the passenger door for her and helped her in. He drove a nice white Camaro with black leather seats and a wide sunroof. His license plate said: HNGMN. So, it was apparent when he was parked on base exactly whose car that was. The pair drove out of the lot and back toward Kate's house. They laughed a little in the car over the absurdity of how the night unfolded, but mostly, Kate couldn't get Rooster out of her head. He was so candid. It was hard to believe that anything he said was said with malicious intent toward her—he certainly had his beef with Hangman though.
"What's the deal with you and Rooster?" Kate finally asked. Jake parked in front of her house, the porch lights were left on, illuminating Kate's face with a gentle glow. She was neutral, but wanted to know.
"Pilots are competitive, egotistical, asses." Jake admitted, "A few years ago, we were selected to train for a dangerous mission in NoKo. We were ALL at each other's throats, and when that happens, it becomes a mental game. I knew that Rooster and Maverick had a history, because Rooster HATED him. So, I dug and I dug until I figured it out. Rooster's father was Maverick's backseat—1986-when they were at topgun. They got caught in the jetwash from another plane, and wound up spinning out of control. The eject malfunctioned on Goose's (Rooster's dad) chair and the canopy deployed a second after the eject blasted his chair up. His neck was crushed against his chest, and his cervical spinal cord was severed—he died instantly. When the recovery and rescue team came, Maverick was clutching Goose and wouldn't let him go. Rooster was three years old when he lost his dad. His mom was never the same after that. She remarried to a man who had nothing to do with the Navy. That's where Rooster's step sister came from. Maverick stayed close all those years, and helped to raise Rooster...but when he joined the Navy, and began pilot training, Carol—Rooster's mom—begged Maverick to never let him fly jets for the Navy. She was terrified that Rooster would be killed like Goose. So, Maverick pulled Rooster's papers. That's why he's older than most pilots-he's four years behind the rest of us."
"I had no idea." Kate whispered.
"But to answer your question." Jake quickly sensed that she was sympathetic to Rooster, and that was the last thing he wanted in that moment, "the Beef that Rooster and I have is because of NoKo."
"The country?"
"Yes. We were training for a mission, Rooster was selected and I was put on reserve. The mission went well, until Maverick got shot down protecting Rooster. Then Rooster got shot down protecting Maverick...THEN—get this—they snuck onto an air base and STOLE an F-14, shot down two fifth gen fighters-"
"Wait...WHAT?"
"I know...insanity!"
"They stole an old plane and managed to shoot down TWO fifth gen fighters?!"
"Yep. But that's not even the best part." He was so excited he could barely contain himself, "So, they make it ¾ of the way to the carrier, and a fifth gen fighter comes at them from in front. They are out of missiles, gun is out of rounds—Maverick tells Rooster to eject and he tries, but the handles don't function and he's stuck."
"Oh my god!" Kate was entirely absorbed in the story.
"The fighter has them locked, and then-" he took a long pause for dramatic effect.
"WHAT HAPPENED?!" Kate grabbed his hand and shook, "Don't leave me hanging here!"
"They don't call me Hangman for nothing." She playfully smacked his elbow,
"Tell me."
"I don't know. You just hit me. I won't tolerate this kind of abuse in a relationship." She rolled her eyes and opened the car door. Before he knew what was happening, she was nearly halfway up the front walk. He bolted after her, up the front steps and onto the porch. She had her key in the door and he quickly braced his arm against one side of the door frame,
"Alright—you win. I'll finish the story tonight." She turned to face him with a look of eager anticipation. She was so beautiful, so different from the women he had "dated" before. He turned back and sat down on the top step, she followed and sat beside him, so close they were touching. It felt right.
"The fighter had just locked onto Maverick and Rooster. They thought this was the end. The fighter fired, but...I had fired first, and before the missile ever left the fighter's payload, I blew him to bits. I had launched from the carrier and high tailed it to their position just moments earlier."
"You saved them." she nudged him with her elbow.
"I did." he beamed, "I saved them both. And I damn near got court
martialed for it."
"You weren't supposed to launch?"
"No. Cyclone didn't want to risk anyone else. But I couldn't let either of them go out like that...in an F-14...that is no way to go…"
"Cyclone?"
"Admiral Simpson."
"I met him."
"He's a dick."
"Actually, he seemed very nice."
"Oh, yeah—if you're female—he's nice. Otherwise, he's a dick." Jake advised, "Just watch out for him."
"Noted." She slowly stood up, "I should call it a night." Walking to the door she turned her key the rest of the way and unlocked the deadbolt. Jake met her at the door. She turned back to him,
"Thank you. This was a fun night—AND-I did get some work accomplished, so thank you for lending your expertise."
"Anytime." They gazed at one another for a moment before Jake started to lean in. He decided he was going to go for that first kiss. His eyes closed, he was almost there, and then—he felt her hand on his chest, gently pushing him back,
"Jake," she said softly. His face was inches from hers. He lingered a moment as she spoke again,
"I don't want to disappoint you, but I'm old fashioned. I don't kiss on the first date—or do anything else-" To his surprise, he wasn't disappointed. He was glad. She respected herself and knew her value. That was incredibly attractive. He leaned back and smiled,
"I'm a bit old fashioned myself." He took her hand in his, and raised it to his lips. Gently, he brushed a kiss onto her knuckles, before looking up into her dark eyes,
"Good night, Kate. I'll see you again soon." And with that, he trotted down the steps, across the front walk and got into his car. Kate waved to him from the porch before disappearing into the house. Jake waited until she was safely inside before heading back to his on-base dorm.
Inside her house, Kate latched the door and hurried to her room. She collapsed on the bed, heart racing, head pounding. She clearly knew she had feelings for Jake, but Rooster too! This defied all logic. She was supposed to be a logical person. And why did she develop feelings so quickly? An internet search on her phone while she lie on her stomach on the bed produced the answer:
Military men move fast. Some even propose on the first date.
Kate couldn't help but laugh. After two days of being around these pilots, she had never felt the intensity of emotions in her entire life that she now felt. She rolled over and looked up at the ceiling fan. Obviously, she needed to make things right with Rooster, but she also wanted to pursue Jake. However, the ominous thought crept into her mind: What if things ended as badly as her last relationship? No. This time it would be different. She decided to wait until she had at least had her first day on base before deciding how to proceed with the pilots. She did decide though, that she should reach out to Rooster tomorrow and make sure he is alright.
Quickly changing into her pjs, she crawled into bed and set her alarm for her Sunday morning run.
Rooster hung around The Hard Deck until closing, and the FNWA were circling like vultures. He was clearly too drunk to drive, and Penny had taken his keys. So, he stumbled outside and that was where Demi offered him a ride. He knew it was against his better judgment, but due to his drunken state, he accepted anyway. Instead of driving him back to base, she drove him to her apartment and ushered him into her cheetah print adorned studio abode. Rooster was confused as he walked inside; he hadn't paid any attention to the scenery on the drive over and had no idea where he even was.
Demi practically shoved him down on her bed, and flopped on top of him.
"Whoa!" He pushed her back, "I don't think we should-" She shushed him,
"I know you were thinking about doing this all night-"
"Well, yeah. But I wasn't thinking about having you on top of me." Demi swiftly unbuttoned his shirt and went straight for his jeans. He resisted,
"Okay—I should go." He scooted off the end of the bed and stood up. Suddenly, the room seemed to spin and he twisted back around and fell face first into her plush, decorative pillows on the bed—he had blacked out.
Demi rolled her eyes before stripping down to her bra and panties and climbing into the bed next to him, hoping he would wake up soon.
At 5:15 am on the dot, Rooster woke up with a start. He was still lying on his stomach, but there was a woman next to him. His eyes were blurred for a moment, but he blinked until they moistened up and his vision focused better. There was a head of blond, straw-like hair on the pillow next to him. He slowly pushed himself away from the woman. He had no idea where he was, or how he got there. The last thing he remembered was Kate walking away from him and then looking back to say goodnight to him as she left The Hard Deck-with Hangman.
Rooster pulled his phone out of his pocket and tapped the screen—out of battery. He quietly slid toward the edge of the bed, when it creaked and squeaked. He froze, but it was too late, the woman, whom he now recognized as Demi, rolled toward him,
"Hi sleepy head." she pretended to yawn and stretch. Rooster could see she was only wearing her bra and undies.
"What's going on?" He asked, "And how did I get here? And what did we do last night?"
"What didn't we do?!" She giggled with an over exuberance seen only in desperate women. Rooster felt his stomach drop. Had he slept with this woman while he was drunk, and now he didn't remember?
"I've got to go." he quickly slid into his shoes, checked his pockets to make sure Demi hadn't stolen anything or kept a souvenir as an attempt to reconnect later, and then hurried for the door. She wrapped herself in a robe and frantically tried to persuade him to stay.
"You told me you loved me." she whined, "That we were going to get married after you got back from sea on your destroyer." Rooster nodded, catching the lie she told. Inevitably, the FNWA members would resort to manipulation to get a sailor into bed.
"That might be difficult." Rooster admitted.
"What? Are you married? I didn't see a ring." Demi harped.
"Nope. Not married. But I'm a pilot, I don't regularly go to sea on a destroyer. So...awkward..." With that he opened her apartment door and hurried down the hall and out the front door of the complex. The sun was beginning to rise, and it cast a dim red glow across the sleepy little apartment complex. Rooster walked to the main street and tried to get his bearings. He started briskly walking down the street toward the base and as he turned a corner, he plowed directly into a runner. The woman who had been running, stumbled over him and caught her balance, but Rooster (with his hangover) tumbled down onto the hard sidewalk.
"Rooster?" Kate's delicate voice snapped him back from the pain throbbing through his leg and wrist.
"Kate? What are you doing out here?"
"I'm going for my morning run." She pulled an ear bud headphone from her ear and helped him to his feet. His knee was bleeding through the rip in his jeans and he was pretty sure his wrist was strained.
"You look like hell." she dusted off the sleeve of his shirt.
"I feel like I just escaped from hell."
"Yikes." Kate grimaced, "Listen, we're not far from my place, why don't we walk back and I'll get your cut cleaned and bandaged up?"
"Sure." And with that the pair hobbled back to Kate's house where she promptly cleaned up his wound and put an ice pack on his wrist. She plied him with water, and even made some eggs to help with his hangover. When all was said and done, they both collapsed on the sectional couch and turned on the tv to watch whatever was a good distraction from the painfully awkward conversation they both knew had to happen.
After a few channel switches, Rooster finally muted the tv,
"Kate…" he started, "whatever I said last night, I'm sorry. I was drunk, and stupid."
"You were honest." She said softly.
"Hangman and I have a history, and for most of it—we've hated each other. It wasn't until recently that we've started getting along. And then you come into the picture...and I never dreamed I could hate him any more than when I saw him put his arm around you last night."
"Bradley, I have to be completely honest with you." She paused and drew in her breath, "Jake told me the full story of when you and Maverick took that F-14 and-"
"He saved us. I'm alive today because of him, so I owe my life to him."
"He didn't just tell me that. He told me about the trouble he stirred up between you and Maverick during that training. Rooster, he is a good man—he shows you the side of him he wants you to see, so you don't see the other side."
"Do you love him?"
"I don't know." She looked down at her hands for a second, "In the spirit of full honesty, I have feelings for both of you. For different reasons. And it defies all logic—I've only known the two of you for a weekend..." He was silent, wanting her to elaborate.
"I like Jake because he is fun and protective. I like you because you are sweet, and you make me feel taken care of—safe. My father once told me men are either puppies, snakes, or lions." Rooster raised a brow,
"Puppies, snakes, or lions…?"
"Puppies are the cute charity cases, snakes—don't really need an explanation there- and lions are the men who are strong, so strong and loving that you feel unafraid with them and they bring out the strength in you." She sighed,
"The whole reason I'm here, is because I had to get away from my job, and my situation back in Chicago. It was a constant reminder that I had spent four years in a bad relationship with a snake. The saddest part was that I didn't know he was a snake until the very end."
"Oh no, Kate." He slid over next to her on the couch, and pulled her into a hug. She felt the tears begin to sting the corners of her eyes and she quickly wiped them dry,
"He had been cheating on me with college girls for years. I found out because I borrowed his car while mine was in the shop. He kept an extra phone in the glove box and the car's display screen started showing the explicit texts from these girls. I felt so stupid. All that time I thought we were happy. I moved out of our condo while he was away at work—my whole family helped so we could do it in a day. When he got back and saw I was gone, he sent me a text that said so you found out I was cheating."
"Kate, you tell me where he is and I'll call in a drone strike." She smiled lightly,
"He's not even worth that amount of effort."At that moment, Rooster held her in his arms, he looked down at her. The smell of her hair, the glisten on her skin, the warmth of her body. He gently pulled away and brushed a strand of hair from in front of her face. This was it. It was now or never. He placed a hand on the side of her cheek along her jaw, and leaned in. Their lips touched, and he kissed her softly. She didn't recoil or move away, she lingered for a moment and then pulled back slightly,
"We shouldn't…" she whispered.
"If you don't want to-"
"It's not that I don't want to…" she trailed off, "It's just so fast, and I get it—the military is unpredictable and so you all move at the speed of light, because you live in the here and now, but...I can't live like that…"
"Then we take things slowly."
"Bradley, I still have the emotional mess from when my ex cheated on me. That was only 4 months ago." She slid off the couch and walked to the kitchen island, leaning against it, she sighed heavily,
"I'm not ready for anything serious. I'm not capable of loving anyone but myself right now. That's why I took this contract. It was supposed to be my escape—a year away in sunny California to reinvent myself." She laughed, "And somehow, the one place I never thought I'd find anyone—I find two exceptional Navy pilots!" She threw her hands up as if she was exhausted with the situation.
A loud rumble grew in the distance and soon, Jake's white Camaro roared up in front of Kate's house. Rooster looked out the window to see his rival trotting up the front walk and then a light knock landed on the door. Kate hurried over and opened the door,
"Hey Jake!" She beamed.
"Good morning, darling!" he crooned back. His face changed, however, when he saw Rooster on the couch.
"Rooster." He nodded to his fellow pilot.
"Hangman." Came the reply from Rooster. Kate stood between them. She could feel the tension.
"Rooster and I literally ran into each other this morning while I was out on my morning run." Kate quickly filled in the main details—leaving out the kiss, of course.
"Walk of shame?" Jake teased Rooster who shrugged his shoulders,
"You've been there too, Hangman…"
"With a bit less frequency than you, Rooster, my friend."
"Gentlemen…" Kate wanted the confrontation to end. Jake quickly took the hint,
"Well, I stopped by to see if you wanted to swing by the marina and grab lunch with me." Kate looked back and forth between the two men,
"I'd love to, but...I have so much to prepare for tomorrow—it's my first official day at work, and I'm going to have an entire military lab to oversee…"
"Fair enough." Jake said, "Then how about dinner tomorrow to celebrate a successful first day at work?" Kate smiled,
"Sure." Rooster drew in his breath sharply, and looked away from the pair. Jake instinctively knew Kate saw Rooster as more of a friend and so, taking a huge risk, he extended the invitation,
"Why don't we invite the whole crew?" he offered, "Rooster, Phoenix, B.O.B., Payback—everyone. Then Kate, you can get to know everyone on the team."
"That's a great idea." she said sweetly. Rooster smiled lightly as he stood up from the couch, his injuries on full display,
"For once, Hangman, that is a good idea."
"Jesus, Rooster!" Hangman crowed, "Kate must have really run you over this morning. Come on, man, I'll give you a ride back to The Hard Deck to get your Bronco. I saw it in the lot as I was driving over here." With that the two men left Kate to prepare for Monday.