Chapter 8 #2
Here, she was extremely comfortable. Cooking was a way for her to relax, and tonight she needed it. With all the problems she’d had today, and the excitement of another date with Julian on the horizon for tomorrow, culinary-creativity would put her mind at rest.
Hmm… Maybe some home-made cornbread to go with the fish.
Three hours later, with the delicious meal consumed, and everyone stuffed to the gills and yawning, Petula and Stat bid the crew goodbye amongst assurances that none of them were drunk.
It would have been a rare occurrence if someone had been in their cups because they were all just social drinkers. But it never hurt to be sure.
More pledges were given as coats were donned, as Petula assured them that she and Stat didn’t need help cleaning up, which was true. In reality, there were only a bunch of empties, alongside some dirty dishes to take care of.
Petula felt the last bit of stress within her unwind as the last person left.
This was the part of the day she liked best. Every time she cooked, which was more often than not, her brother would be the one to load the dishwasher and scrub pans, during which they mutually dissected their respective days for each other.
Tonight, Petula knew, Statler would be even more curious than normal, digging into what he figured she hadn’t told the group about Julian, and she relished it. Their rehashing would allow her to work out a few things in her head.
The clatter of dishes was so normal, it soothed any remaining nerves she might have. Of course, the two beers she’d downed hadn’t hurt either. She was a real lightweight drinker.
Petula hopped her ass up onto the counter and watched her brother rinse every item, one by one, to place them neatly in the dishwasher.
“What else do you want to share with me about your time with Julian this morning?” Stat finally asked after a few minutes of comfortable silence.
Petula wouldn’t hold back.
“I like him, Stat. I mean, I really like him. He’s a good listener, even going so far as to hear things I wasn’t saying. It made me comfortable that I didn’t have to spill my guts.”
What else had she liked? Petula didn’t have to search her brain, too hard. “He has a great sense of humor, isn’t hesitant to talk about himself, and he clearly adores his family.”
Statler nodded. “They’re a good bunch, from everything I’ve heard.” He pretty much reiterated the words he’d spoken the previous night, then voiced his concerns. “He, uh, didn’t…try to make any moves on you, did he?”
Petula could hear the worry in her brother’s voice, and she was overjoyed to be able to put him at ease. “No. Not at all. He was a perfect gentleman.” She grinned, remembering. “He never touched me, not once, and even opened my car door for me, if you can believe it.”
“It’s only what you deserve, Pet.” Statler shuffled his feet a bit, looking decidedly uncomfortable.
“What?” she asked. There was clearly something he wasn’t saying.
“You’re not gonna like this, but I have to let you in on something. I, uh, might have set Sherbert up with Julian’s info and had him do a quick search on the guy.”
Petula wanted to be mad, but this was the protective side of Statler and his crew that she’d seen time and time again. It would actually have been strange for Stat not to dig a little deeper into Julian.
She couldn’t get upset.
“What did you find?” she questioned.
Her heart sped up a bit. Petula couldn’t imagine the man had any skeletons in his closet, but what if he did?
Statler, off the hook for prying, gave her a relieved nod. “He’s exactly who he says he is. An Air Force Guardian Angel who was in for eighteen years, and had zero infractions in all that time. He’s earned a chest full of medals, and his accolades go on and on as long as my arm.”
“Why do I hear a ‘but’ coming?” Petula asked pointedly.
Statler sighed. “Because there’s one puzzle I can’t wrap my head around.
There are lots of pictures of Julian available on-line.
Lots. In and out of uniform, doing charitable works with local groups, that kind of thing.
But the only people who are ever around him in those photos are his family and fellow airmen. ”
“Meaning?” Petula wasn’t dense, but she couldn’t see what her brother was getting at.
“Petula,” Statler said patiently. “He’s a good-looking guy.
There are never any women on his arm. Never.
Not at any officer’s functions, not at any pompous balls.
It looks like the man doesn’t date. There’s not one picture of him in a social setting with any lady other than his mother. Don’t you find that strange?”
Was he being serious? Petula frowned.
“What are you saying, Stat? That he’s gay?”
That was the farthest thing from reality, Petula knew. The way Julian had looked at her over coffee spoke of a completely different agenda.
“I don’t know,” Statler replied sheepishly.
“Well, he’s not,” she told him definitively. “And besides, who are you to talk about dating?” Petula’s back was up now. “When was the last time you went out with a woman?”
Statler’s face darkened. “That’s different, and you know it.”
“Do I?” she questioned.
This was something they rarely discussed, but every time they stumbled upon it, Statler shut her down.
Not this time.
She plowed forward. “All I know is that in all the years we’ve lived together, I’ve never seen you make a single effort to date. Why is that Stat? Are you gay? Do you have a deep, dark, secret agenda of which I’m not aware?”
Statler growled. “You know that’s bullshit.”
“Okay. I do. So tell me, then. Why is it that you’ve been flying solo for so many years. Why is it okay for you to eschew the social scene, but not Julian?”
Statler turned his back to her, then exploded, throwing down a pan he’d been washing.
“Because Julian doesn’t have a little sister who needs protecting, and I do.”