Astrid Chapter 8
Yesterday had been a flurry of activity, and so many things were decided that my head was still whirling over it a little.
I’d accepted being in a relationship with Mayhem, been voted in as his old lady, and agreed to help decorate and furnish his home, which was now to be mine.
We toured the other houses on the compound, which had been fun and gave me tons of ideas.
Afterward came the trip to town to pick up groceries, check me out of my extended stay hotel, and bring my belongings from there to the house. By the time we went to the clubhouse that evening to celebrate with the club, I was ready to relax and have fun.
Everyone had been very welcoming. When Hail and Crusher welcomed me to the family, I didn’t bring up their objections.
I was glad Mayhem hadn’t either. I was working on a way to get back at them, but in a humorous manner.
Mayhem and I had lasted until just after nine o’clock, then excused ourselves.
We returned home, but not to sleep. It was another incredible night of lovemaking, which left me wrung out and him claiming the same.
Today, after kissing Mayhem goodbye as he headed out to take care of club business and to work at Eden, I sat for a while trying to organize my to-do list. I had several items on it.
Deciding to wait for Mayhem to tell me which days were best to visit Virginia Beach, I went online to search for a job.
Being a Navy pilot had left me with a particular set of skills.
And there weren't a vast number of jobs for pilots unless you were in a metropolitan area near an airport. And even then, it could be tough to get a job. The competition was high. While I loved to fly, I wasn’t sure I wanted to be a commercial pilot.
They were gone a lot and lived by schedules.
Now that I had Mayhem, I wasn’t keen on being gone all the time, assuming I found a job.
My degree was originally a Bachelor of Science in Aviation Technology.
It has helped tremendously on my path to becoming a pilot.
However, I hadn’t stopped there. While serving those eleven years, I went on to earn a bachelor’s degree in Unmanned Aircraft Operations, also known as drones.
It was still a high-demand environment, but I’d primarily work for the government as a contracted employee if I went that route.
I regretted not having obtained a more basic degree that could be applied in various fields, such as marketing or management.
Technically, depending on where I lived in the country, my retirement and VA disability pay provided enough to live on, as long as I was frugal. But I wasn’t the type to sit at home doing nothing. Even part-time work was better than that. It was a fruitless search, which left me out of sorts.
There was nothing to be done in the house, other than to make dinner later.
Figuring the other ladies were either working or busy with kids, I ended up putting on my bathing suit and heading over to the pool.
It was eerily quiet. As I slathered on my sunscreen, I recalled Mayhem doing the same thing the last time.
The feel of his hands on my body had aroused me.
I would give anything to be with him now.
I’d brought my e-reader with me. I opened a book and dove in. I hoped it would keep me entertained. If a book was good, I got lost in it, and time would fly by. Just in case it did, I set an alarm on my phone so I would return to the house in time to make dinner.
Unfortunately, I struggled to get into the story.
It wasn’t because the book wasn’t any good.
It was due to so many things crowding in my mind.
I kept going off on tangents, thinking about this or that.
I kept at it, and eventually, the noise in my head quieted, allowing me to become fully absorbed in the story.
To my astonishment, I was pulled out of the tale by my phone alarm going off.
Checking the time, I was surprised to see I’d been here for four hours.
I’d reapplied sunscreen a couple of hours ago.
While I could burn, I was lucky enough that my skin, if protected sufficiently, would turn a golden color.
It appeared I’d deepened it a bit today.
The only thing I disliked was the faint freckles on my nose and cheeks.
Or I had until Mayhem kissed them last night and told me how much he loved them. It was the first time I liked them.
Picking up my bag, which contained my pool essentials—sunscreen, e-reader, towel, and water bottle—I walked off toward the house.
I was almost to Tinker and Haven’s place when my cell phone rang.
Digging hastily in my bag, I took a few moments to find it.
I glanced at the screen. The caller was unknown, but the area code was Virginia Beach.
Figuring it was a telemarketer calling, I almost didn’t answer.
However, the fact that it was from the Virginia Beach area changed my mind, and I decided to do it.
I was trying to think who there would have a reason to call me. I continued walking as I answered.
“Hello, this is Astrid. Who is this?” I asked. I cut to the chase. I was polite, but not welcoming. If you encouraged those telemarketers, they would go crazy on you.
“Hello, is this former Commander Astrid Tuttle?” a woman’s brisk voice asked. I came to attention. She was no telemarketer.
“Yes, this is Commander Tuttle. May I ask who I’m addressing?”
“Commander, my name is Jackie. I’m your former commanding officer, Captain Snyder’s aide.
The captain would like to speak to you. Please hold,” she said briskly, and then I was on hold listening to awful elevator music.
She never gave me a chance to agree to be connected.
What in the world would Captain Snyder want with me?
Snyder had been my commanding officer when I retired.
He’d been the one to send our squadron out on that fateful mission.
While it wasn’t his fault that it had gone to shit, I knew he blamed himself.
He’d picked the pilots. He thought the six of us were the strongest and would have the best chance of success.
If Baker and the others had listened, I agreed.
While I lay in the hospital and then in rehab, healing, Captain Snyder visited often and checked in frequently via text and phone calls. I appreciated his concern, but hated that he felt so guilty. I’d assured him several times that it wasn’t his fault and I didn’t blame him.
I hadn’t heard from him in six months. I wondered why he was having his aide call me.
He typically called me directly. I wouldn’t call us friends, but there was mutual respect and admiration between us.
I held for close to three minutes, which I timed, before the music cut out.
The voice on the other end was one I knew well.
“Astrid, sorry for the wait. Thanks for taking my call. How are you?” he started.
Over the course of my recovery and after my retirement, we’d moved to being less formal with each other. With him no longer my commanding officer, I didn’t need to be formal.
“Hi, Cass. Of course, I’d take your call. Though I was surprised your aide called me for you. And I’m fabulous. What about you?”
“I’ve been okay. Busy as you can imagine. Trying to find enough hours in the day. We’ve got to catch up soon. But that’ll have to wait, I’m afraid. The reason I had Jackie facilitate this call is because it’s an official one, not personal.” His voice lowered when he informed me of this.
A shiver went up my spine, and my heart sped up. Based on his tone of voice, whatever he was about to say wasn’t good.
“Cass, I can tell by your voice that something is wrong. You know me. No need to pussyfoot around. Give it to me directly and all at once. What’s up?”
My mind raced with possibilities, but I discarded them all as impossible. I had no clue what he was about to tell me. I disliked that feeling. It fucked with my Type-A, need-for-control personality. After a long pause that stretched my nerves to the breaking point, he answered.
“It’s about your last mission. There’s an uproar happening around here. It’s been going on for a few weeks. I hoped it would die down and go away, but it hasn’t. I wanted you to hear it from me so that you can be prepared in case it goes further, although I don’t know how it can.”
My mouth went dry when he said it had to do with that nightmare. After taking a drink of water, I asked, “What about the mission? I was thoroughly debriefed, and it was two years ago,” I reminded him unnecessarily, but I had to say something.
“I know, and it shouldn’t be raised, but it seems that the brother of one of your fellow pilots on that mission is causing a stink.
He’s demanding answers to what happened to his brother.
He wants to know the details. He couldn’t care less if it’s top secret or not.
He’s pushing and making noise about how he knows someone fucked up.
I don’t know if he has the contacts to uncover anything, but I wanted you to know.
We’ll do everything we can to keep your name and the circumstances confidential.
However, I would feel like shit if he were to come seeking answers from you.
Again, the likelihood of it is less than one percent, but I like to be thorough. ”
My stomach churned. It seemed the past wasn’t staying buried. It was one thing to tell Mayhem about it. He needed to know if we were together. It was a different story for someone else to stir up those memories.
“Which pilot’s brother is it?” I asked hoarsely.