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tousled hair and a pointy chin stood beside the sign proclaiming GREENLY AIR FORCE BASE . In the background, traffic crept through the main gate. “So far officials at Greenly Air Force Base have not responded to the rumors. If a crew did fly out of uniform it would be a breach of regulations and the consequences could be grave for the pilots as well as for Greenly Air Force Base. This is Chelsea O’Mara reporting live from Greenly Air Force Base. Back to you, Matt.”
“Thanks, Chelsea,” said a fresh-faced kid from behind the desk. “There is a press conference scheduled for later today and News for You from Channel Two will keep you updated. Now on to the story of a hometown hero, a man who saved a chicken after a car struck it on a two-lane highway.”
I turned off the TV. “How did it get on the news so fast?” I asked. “And how did they find out?” I returned to the kitchen.
“That reporter was there at Jeff’s party. Chelsea O’Mara. Tommy introduced her to me. She’s dating him, or at least that’s what she said.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I don’t think they’ve been going out very long. Like maybe a week. I think she hooked up with Tommy to find out more about Penny and the squad. Tommy said he met her at the O Club last week. She talked to me for a long time. Actually, it was an interview. I thought she was friendly! Anyway, she wondered if I knew Penny, if I’d heard any rumors about her, stuff like that.”
“Did you tell her anything?”
“Of course not. The little tidbit she overheard about flying naked was icing on the cake. Look, I’ve got to get moving. We’re leaving for the airport in a few minutes, but I wanted you to know she’s snooping around.”
“Okay. Have a great trip.”
As soon as I hung up, the phone rang again in my hand. “What did you forget now?” I asked.
A laugh came over the line, but it wasn’t Abby’s. “To invite you to lunch. This is Irene. You were expecting someone else? Listen, I’m sooo sorry I forgot to call you. We’re having a playgroup thing at McDonald’s today?”
“You are?” I knew Irene from spouse coffees. I was never sure if she was making a statement or asking a question.
“Yeah, today? Can you make it?”
“Okay. I don’t know if I can, but thanks for letting me know.” I had a mountain of laundry waiting for me after the breakfast dishes were cleaned.
“The one on Falls Avenue? Eleven-thirty?”
I spent the morning washing and folding laundry and trying to pick up the house. Forget actual cleaning. I never got past the first step of picking up so I could clean. I tossed a toy drum, a grandparent gift—what were they thinking?—into the toy box and turned to find Livvy bent over the laundry basket, grabbing neatly folded shirts and tossing them on the floor.
“Help,” she explained proudly.
I sighed. She loved to help. I picked her up and headed for the changing table. “McDonald’s time!”
Livvy sat inside the ball cage with her straight back pressed against the wall, her eyebrows drawn together as she observed the other kids jumping and bouncing in the balls. She looked like an anthropologist absorbing the unknown customs of another culture.
Irene pushed her fluffy bangs off her forehead and said, “She’s so cute, isn’t she? Serious. Will she get in there with the other kids and play?”
“There’s too much going on right now. She’s taking it all in. She always does this. She’s got to check everything out.”
“Well, I wish my boys would slow down like that.” Jill, the squadron commander’s wife, sat beside me in her sweats and T-shirt. She’d just finished teaching her step-aerobics class. I’d been surprised to see her. From her attitude, I thought she held me personally responsible for the murder in the squadron last year. Never mind the fact that I didn’t commit it, just revealed who did. But today she’d actually smiled and asked about Livvy.
“Bang! Bang! Bang!
C. J. Cherryh
Learning to Kill: Stories
John O'Riley
Brenda Sinclair
Christopher George
Stephen Lloyd Jones
Karl Iagnemma
Celya Bowers
Jill Gregory
Aria Cunningham