Chapter 9

Al leaned against the entrance to the conservatory, observing the scene before him. The large, all-glass greenhouse that spanned the top two floors of the project complex was filled with plants, flowers, and trees of every shade of green. Its lush beauty contrasted deeply with the desert outside. In the middle, standing alone and looking up in wonder into the branches of an olive tree, was Sam. Al smiled to himself, guessing Sam had just come across the new addition to the project.

"Too bad Botany isn't one of your seven doctorates," said Al, announcing his arrival. "We're having a hard time figuring out how to increase the yield on a new strain of wheat and could use a certified genius on the docket."

Sam turned toward his voice. "You're growing wheat?"

"Trying to feed the world," Al replied, walking toward Sam. "Well, that and genetically modified grains are an increasing area of interest with plenty of funding."

"Any luck?"

Al shrugged. "They've gotten the nanotechnology department involved. Maybe they'll come up with something together."

"Nanotechnology?" Sam asked. "Impressive."

"You wouldn't believe the stuff they're up to," Al replied, admiring the tree himself. He turned back to Sam. "I've been looking for you all morning. I came to ask if you have any dinner plans tonight."

Sam cocked his head to the side and pretended to think. "Well my choices are the cafeteria or…the cafeteria. So I guess I was planning to eat at the cafeteria."

"Wiseguy," said Al with a grin. "What if I said I have another place in mind?"

"Are you offering to cook?"

"Nope, somewhere even better."

"Okay, I'm game," Sam replied, interested.

"Okay, let's go then," said Al, turning toward the door.

"What, to dinner?" said Sam, confused. He looked down at his wristlink. "Al, it's eleven in the morning."

"This place takes a little time to get to," said Al, peering behind him. "You coming or what?"

Sam followed Al down to the main floor of the project and eventually stepped into the strong, mid-morning sun outside. They continued toward the outer perimeter of the complex until a square, concrete helicopter pad came into view.

"Wait, we're flying somewhere?" Sam asked.

As if on cue, the faint sound of helicopter blades approached from the northwest direction, growing exponentially louder by the second.

"Trust me," Al said loudly over the noise, "this way's a lot faster."

The helicopter touched down with the rotor blades still running. Al and Sam quickly made their way against the whirlwind of sand that sprung up around them and entered the chopper. Al took the seat opposite the pilot in the cockpit and expertly strapped his helmet in while Sam was happy to sit in the back.

The Marine that was flying the machine saluted Al and acknowledged them over the comms. "Pleasure to have you on board, Admiral, Dr. Beckett. We'll arrive at ABQ shortly."

"Hey Miles, thanks for doing this last minute."

"Not a problem, Sir," came the reply. "This beats a maintenance rotation any day."

After a short flight, the helicopter landed smoothly at the Albuquerque airport and took off again, quickly becoming a small dot in the sky.

Sam looked around at the multiple planes around them. They were in the private aircraft section of the airport. "We're taking one of these?"

"Wait 'till you see which one," Al said with a mischievous grin.

"You're not going to tell me where we're going, are you?" said Sam.

"You'll find out soon," Al answered.

"How is this even possible?"

"The plane's on a long term loan to the project," said Al. "We needed something to fly in our biggest donors. The bonus for us is—no more lines at the airport."

He led them to a midsized jet parked just off the runway. At the bottom of the boarding stairs, they were greeted by a stewardess wearing a tightly fitting red uniform that Al took the time to fully enjoy before boarding.

"Gentleman, my name is Stella. Let me know if there's anything I can do to make your flight more comfortable."

Al eagerly opened his mouth to speak before Sam quickly cut in. "Thanks. We will."

Just minutes after they were seated, the plane began to taxi onto the runway and the captain's voice sounded over the loudspeaker. After introductions, the words "we're expecting a smooth flight today and anticipate an on time arrival in Indianapolis" caught Sam's ear.

He turned to Al, surprised. "Indianapolis. We're going to Elk Ridge?"

"I figured nothing beats a home cooked meal," said Al.

A smile spread widely across Sam's features. "Does Audrey know we're coming?"

"I called her a few days ago and worked out all the details."

"What if Sammy Jo leaps?"

"Then we'll have to fly back," said Al apologetically. "But we'll be gone for less than 24 hours, so odds are good nothing too exciting will happen at the project."

Sam sat back into his seat and smiled again. As the plane sped down the runway for takeoff, he pictured Audrey's face and feeling her in his arms. In all the time they had been married, they had never been apart for more than a few days. It felt like an eternity since he last saw her.

. . .

The plane ride was smooth, as the captain predicted, and they landed at the Indianapolis airport late in the afternoon. Upon exiting, they were greeted by a man in a well-fitting suit standing next to a sleek red Ferrari.

"Mr. Calavicci?"

"That's me," said Al, shaking the man's hand.

"Welcome to Indianapolis," he said. "She has a full tank of gas and is ready for you." He handed over a red key with a familiar logo etched on its face. "I'll be back to pick it up tomorrow."

Sam raised his eyebrows at Al, who let out a low whistle as he circled the car. "She's a beauty isn't she, Sam?"

"This is the rental car?" Sam asked, incredulous.

"Hey, we wanna arrive in style, don't we? Besides, I missed my old car. There's no color like Ferrari red."

"Al, we can't drive this to Elk Ridge."

"Why not?" Al asked.

"Why not? Because people in town are going to talk. A lot."

Al took out a pair of aviator sunglasses from his pocket and put them on. He opened the driver's door, inspected the interior, and grinned back at Sam. "So let'em talk. C'mon, let's get out of here."

. . .

They arrived in a hearting-pounding race to the center of town, stopping in front of the diner as people on both sides of the street openly stared.

Al, oblivious to the looks, peered through the windshield and spotted the flower shop a few doors down.

"I'm gonna go get some flowers," he said.

"For Audrey?" said Sam. "You're gonna make me look bad."

"I'll say it's from the both of—" Before Al could finish his sentence, a young woman walked out of the diner, dressed in a sporty miniskirt that showed off her tanned legs and a form-fitting cropped cardigan. She held a rolled up apron in one hand and a small handbag on her other arm.

"Oh wooow," said Al as he pressed the button to lower the window, oblivious to Sam's protests next to him.

"Hey sweetheart," he called as she walked by, admiring her perfectly sculpted body. "How was your shift?"

"Al, what are you doing?" Sam whispered fiercely.

The woman paused and turned. She smiled shyly as she admired the car. Sam turned his head away from the both of them as he adjusted his arm to cover his profile.

"Not bad," she said, playing along. She walked closer to Al. "That's quite a car you've got."

Al grinned behind his sunglasses. "It really packs a punch. Do you need a ride somewhere?"

She pretended to consider his invitation. "You know, it's not a good idea to go for rides with strangers."

"Oh we're not strangers. My friend lives just outside of town," said Al as he motioned to Sam.

The woman leaned down to get a better look at the other occupant of the car, giving Al the perfect view of her well-endowed chest. She paused in surprise, then said, "Mr. Beckett?"

Sam, who had lowered himself in the seat in an attempt to disappear further, was forced to remove his hand from his face.

"Hi…Caroline," he finally said.

"Wait, you know each other?" Al asked.

"Caroline, Al. Al, Caroline," Sam replied, looking extremely comfortable.

"Mr. Beckett, my dad was looking for you the other day. I think he needed to borrow a tool or something. Some type of socket wrench?"

"Uh…have him give Audrey a call. I've been out of town," said Sam.

"Okay," she said brightly, straightening up. "It was nice to meet you, Al."

"You too, Caroline," said Al as he watched her walk away.

"Al," Sam's voice disturbed his train of thought. "She's my friend's daughter. Which means she's young enough to be your daughter."

Al's gaze still lingered after Caroline. "Huh?" he said absently.

"Al!" Sam said with more authority, forcing the other man to turn toward him.

"Well it doesn't hurt to look, does it?"

Sam paused with an expression stuck between extreme disapproval and a smile. As inappropriate as Al's behavior was, it was the first time since he returned to the project that Al was healthy enough to be his typical self. It was good to see a glimpse of his old friend again.

He finally settled on neutral exasperation. "Okay, let's just get to the house in one piece, alright?"

With one last look at Caroline's retreating figure, Al sighed and restarted the engine.

. . .

They arrived at Sam's house as the sun was just beginning to set, painting the entire landscape in shades of golden yellow. Audrey was waiting at the door and rushed into Sam's arms as soon as he exited the car. They shared a long kiss before she hugged Al and took the time to admire the car.

"You boys sure know how to make an entrance," she said with a grin. "Did you get any comments in town?"

"You don't want to know," said Sam.

"Well, you're just in time for supper."

"I've been salivating about this meal for the last five hours," Sam replied, excited at the thought of the food that awaited them.

"Me too," Al interjected.

The house was filled with the delicious aroma of Audrey's cooking. At the dining table, a spread worthy of a Thanksgiving meal, including all of Sam's favorite foods, filled the space. Sam and Al sat with hungry grins and began piling their plates immediately.

"This is amazing," said Al, after his first few mouthfuls of food. "I mean, the food at the project is good but this is like…"

"Being home," said Sam, turning to Audrey and taking her hand in his. "I've missed this."

She smiled at him. "I'm glad you like it. Save room for dessert, though. I made cinnamon apple pie."

Both Sam and Al's eyes widened with her words. "And vanilla ice cream," she added, enjoying their expressions.

. . .

Al pushed back his empty plate, the delicious taste of Audrey's apple pie and homemade ice cream still on his taste buds.

"What did you think?" She asked him.

He shook his head, as if disbelieving his good fortune. "Best meal I've had in years. Possibly decades."

"You're too kind, Al."

"Just telling it like I see it," he replied.

Audrey leaned towards him. "I've been meaning to ask you more about your astronaut days. I find it just incredible. How many times did you circle the Earth again?"

Al was about to speak, when a sudden coughing attack accosted him, making it impossible to answer. He cleared his throat and attempted a smile at his hostess, but his lungs refused to cooperate. The coughing continued until he began wheezing with each breath.

Sam grabbed onto the back of Al's chair and leaned in protectively over him, knowing there was little he could do besides waiting it out with his friend. Al looked to Sam as the familiar panic due to the inability to breathe choked his body. He didn't think to bring an inhaler on the trip. He was coming off two weeks of feeling pretty much normal.

After a few tense minutes, the coughing mercifully subsided. Al struggled to catch his breath.

"Just slow and steady," Sam said to him quietly. "There you go. You've got it."

When Al could finally compose himself, he turned to Audrey in apology. "Sweetheart, I think that's my cue to retire for the night. It's been a long day."

"Are you sure you're okay?" Audrey asked, deeply concerned.

"I'll be fine," said Al, standing up. "I just need a little rest. Besides, I'm sure you two have a lot of catching up to do."

"I'll take you to the guest room," said Sam.

"No no, you stay," said Al. "I know where it is."

"Al," said Sam, his eyes full of worry.

"I'll be fine," said Al, placing a hand on Sam's shoulder. "Have a good night, you two."

Al made his way to the guest room quickly, closed the door behind him, and pressed his fist firmly into his chest. He felt another round of coughs coming on but willed it to stop. He forced himself to breathe steadily in and out, allowing his heart rate to finally slow to a normal pace. Frowning, he realized his pause from the disease was over, and Beeks' prediction of a "fairly rapid decline" would happen soon.

. . .

Al peered intently at the eggs in the frying pan before him, readying the spatula to flip them at just the right moment.

He heard footsteps coming down the stairs and looked up to see Audrey walking towards him, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

"You're up incredibly early," she said, "and making breakfast? If this gets out, people are going to say I'm not a very good host."

"Morning," Al greeted her with a smile and a cup of freshly brewed coffee. "I thought I'd make myself useful." He scooped up the eggs onto a plate already containing a stack of hot griddle cakes and set them onto the kitchen table, inviting her to sit.

Audrey took a sip of coffee, reached for the maple syrup and dug into the griddle cakes. She chewed her first bite enthusiastically, then looked at Al in surprise after swallowing. "This is Sam's mom's recipe. With—"

"Cornmeal and buttermilk," Al finished.

"How did you know that?".

"Sam used to make them all the time at the project. He taught me."

"Well this is certainly a treat," said Audrey. "I'm usually the one making breakfast every morning."

"A beautiful woman such as yourself shouldn't have to cook every morning," said Al, taking a seat himself.

Audrey naturally blushed at his comment. "You know, Sam warned me about your…way with words."

"Did he?" Al asked innocently.

"Something about, 'being able to get anyone to do anything he wants.'"

Al's smile faltered at her words. He looked down for a long moment at the coffee mug in his hands before speaking.

"Can I ask you to do something for me?"

"What is it?" she asked, noticing the shift in his demeanor.

"If Sam ever talks to you about staying on at the project long term, don't let him do it. Do whatever you can to talk him out of it."

Audrey was surprised. "Wouldn't you be the better person to do that?"

It took him a second to meet her eyes. "I'm not going to be at the project forever."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"I mean…I'm already past retirement age. We all have to quit sometime. I might not be there to talk him out of it."

His answer didn't make sense to Audrey. "But aren't you in charge of the project? You could pick your replacement at any time."

Al sighed. "You know, I wish it were that easy."

Audrey was silent for a moment. "Is this why you came?" she asked. "Why you brought Sam home, to ask me this?"

"Partly," said Al.

"Don't you need his expertise at the project? Isn't that why you asked him to go in the first place?"

"Yes, but I never intended it to be a long term role. Sam, well you know him. He's got the hero complex turned up high in his DNA. He'll sacrifice his own happiness for everyone else. I know he's happy here with you, happier than I've seen him in a long time, and I don't want him to give that up. Again."

Footsteps from above drew both of their attention to the staircase, where Sam was making his way down.

"Morning guys," he said as he neared.

"Can I count on you?" Al asked Audrey, intent on an answer.

She studied him with questions still in her eyes, but nodded discreetly.

"What's this about?" Sam asked as he neared.

Both Al and Audrey remained silent. "It's nothing," Audrey finally replied. "Are you hungry? Al made us breakfast."

Sam turned to Al. "Is everything okay?" It was clear he was still concerned about the previous night.

Al nodded, signaling to Sam he felt fine.

Reading Al's body language, Sam could tell something was off. "We should probably get going. Our flight back is pretty early, right?"

"I can change the time," said Al.

"No need, I'm ready."

"Sam, I'm really okay."

"I know," came the reply, "but everyone's waiting for us back at the project." His unspoken words of "especially the medical team that can check you out" remained unsaid only between him and Al.

"Well you don't want to keep the plane waiting," said Audrey, breaking the tension. "I guess this is goodbye, for now?"

Sam pulled her in and kissed her gently on the lips. "But not for long. I'll see you soon, I promise."