briefcase stood next to her. Barbara Raye always leads with a lawyer, he thought. He tried to manage a smile, anything to pull her fangs. “Where’s Jenny?” he asked, hoping his ex-wife was around.
Barbara Raye Wilson’s look turned even harder. “She couldn’t make it. She’s off with her current scumbag.” As a matter of family policy, Barbara Raye never approved of any man in her only child’s life, and Stuart had been another casualty in the long procession of men Jenny presented to her mother for sacrifice. Stuart assumed that it was a combination of money and a lone grandchild that kept the two women together. Barbara Raye had won the Powerball Lottery, and Jenny had Eric.
Stuart couldn’t help himself. “She did tell me she was in love.” The words were no sooner spoken than he realized he had made a bad mistake. Jenny and her mother were at each other’s throats again, locked in a deep love-hate battle for dominance, with money and access to Eric the weapons of choice. It escaped his understanding why they couldn’t break the tie that binds and go their separate ways, or at least declare a cease-fire in their on-again, off-again war.
Eric burst through the door leading from customs and ran up to his father. “Dad, you got to come out and see it!” Stuart assumed he was talking about the An-124.
“Mr. Stuart,” the lawyer said, “letting your child fly on that aircraft was the height of irresponsibility.”
“He and his grandfather were suppose to fly United.”
Eric couldn’t contain himself. “Gramps’s friend had a Lightning we had to get out of England to save it from being cut up and another friend’s got lots of money and he rented a plane to fly it here and we came with it.” He smiled as if that explained everything. “Come on. We can watch it unload.”
“Maybe we should wait here,” Stuart said, seeing the look of disapproval on Barbara Raye’s face.
Eric felt the tension between his father and grandmother and didn’t want any part of it. “Please, Dad. Gramps is at the airplane.”
“Well, let’s go howdy the folks,” Stuart said. Eric led them, half running, out to the parking ramp where a small crowd was watching the big aircraft discharge its cargo.
Eric ran up to the rope holding the crowd back. “Gramps!” he yelled, waving at his grandfather. Shanker waved back and motioned them to the entry-control point. “That’s Wing Commander Seagrave and Prince Turika with Gramps,” Eric explained. “You’ll like them.”
Shanker escorted the small group to the back of the aircraft to watch the unloading. He introduced them to Seagrave and Turika while four spare jet engines were offloaded. Three pallets of spare parts were rolled onto loaders, followed by a set of wings mounted on a wooden cradle. The last loader drove up, and two spare wings were rolled off, along with twelve tires. Finally the fuselage of the Lightning was rolled out the front of the aircraft, gleaming in the September sun like a wingless dart. “I sat in the cockpit,” Eric said. “It’s really neat and Commander Seagrave flew it when he shouldn’t have but he didn’t have a choice and that’s why he got in trouble and we had to save it.”
Stuart laughed. He had never seen his son so animated. “It sounds like you had a great time.”
“It’s time he was back in school,” Barbara Raye announced, taking charge. “You’re coming with me, young man.”
Stuart’s stomach took a twist. He could not remember Barbara Raye losing an argument to anyone other than Jenny. Tons of money gave her unlimited power and she wielded it like a deadly weapon. Still, he tried to delay the inevitable. “We need to talk to Jenny,” he said.
Barbara Raye gave him a cold look. “No we don’t. Eric is staying with me.”
“Dad,” Eric pleaded. His wonderful day had suddenly turned sour.
“Come,” Barbara Raye ordered. She reached for Eric’s hand, but Shanker knelt down beside the boy,
Barbara Raye Wilson’s look turned even harder. “She couldn’t make it. She’s off with her current scumbag.” As a matter of family policy, Barbara Raye never approved of any man in her only child’s life, and Stuart had been another casualty in the long procession of men Jenny presented to her mother for sacrifice. Stuart assumed that it was a combination of money and a lone grandchild that kept the two women together. Barbara Raye had won the Powerball Lottery, and Jenny had Eric.
Stuart couldn’t help himself. “She did tell me she was in love.” The words were no sooner spoken than he realized he had made a bad mistake. Jenny and her mother were at each other’s throats again, locked in a deep love-hate battle for dominance, with money and access to Eric the weapons of choice. It escaped his understanding why they couldn’t break the tie that binds and go their separate ways, or at least declare a cease-fire in their on-again, off-again war.
Eric burst through the door leading from customs and ran up to his father. “Dad, you got to come out and see it!” Stuart assumed he was talking about the An-124.
“Mr. Stuart,” the lawyer said, “letting your child fly on that aircraft was the height of irresponsibility.”
“He and his grandfather were suppose to fly United.”
Eric couldn’t contain himself. “Gramps’s friend had a Lightning we had to get out of England to save it from being cut up and another friend’s got lots of money and he rented a plane to fly it here and we came with it.” He smiled as if that explained everything. “Come on. We can watch it unload.”
“Maybe we should wait here,” Stuart said, seeing the look of disapproval on Barbara Raye’s face.
Eric felt the tension between his father and grandmother and didn’t want any part of it. “Please, Dad. Gramps is at the airplane.”
“Well, let’s go howdy the folks,” Stuart said. Eric led them, half running, out to the parking ramp where a small crowd was watching the big aircraft discharge its cargo.
Eric ran up to the rope holding the crowd back. “Gramps!” he yelled, waving at his grandfather. Shanker waved back and motioned them to the entry-control point. “That’s Wing Commander Seagrave and Prince Turika with Gramps,” Eric explained. “You’ll like them.”
Shanker escorted the small group to the back of the aircraft to watch the unloading. He introduced them to Seagrave and Turika while four spare jet engines were offloaded. Three pallets of spare parts were rolled onto loaders, followed by a set of wings mounted on a wooden cradle. The last loader drove up, and two spare wings were rolled off, along with twelve tires. Finally the fuselage of the Lightning was rolled out the front of the aircraft, gleaming in the September sun like a wingless dart. “I sat in the cockpit,” Eric said. “It’s really neat and Commander Seagrave flew it when he shouldn’t have but he didn’t have a choice and that’s why he got in trouble and we had to save it.”
Stuart laughed. He had never seen his son so animated. “It sounds like you had a great time.”
“It’s time he was back in school,” Barbara Raye announced, taking charge. “You’re coming with me, young man.”
Stuart’s stomach took a twist. He could not remember Barbara Raye losing an argument to anyone other than Jenny. Tons of money gave her unlimited power and she wielded it like a deadly weapon. Still, he tried to delay the inevitable. “We need to talk to Jenny,” he said.
Barbara Raye gave him a cold look. “No we don’t. Eric is staying with me.”
“Dad,” Eric pleaded. His wonderful day had suddenly turned sour.
“Come,” Barbara Raye ordered. She reached for Eric’s hand, but Shanker knelt down beside the boy,
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