Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
Dex
“ M aybe I’m getting too old for this shit after all,” I groan as I roll out of bed early the next morning.
Grabbing my clothes and the hygiene kit that Jolie bought for me, I take a quick shower and then make sure I have all my stuff together before I make my way to the hotel lobby to wait for Rex.
Sometimes, the company just uses a driver to haul us employees to the airport, but this time, I get the five-star treatment, which I plan to tease Rex about.
During my career with Oceanic, more often than not, I’ve had Rex as my designated pilot.
It sometimes gets confusing as hell when we’re together because our names are so similar that people mix us up, but I still don’t understand how that’s possible since we don’t resemble each other in any way whatsoever.
Because of my mixed heritage, that has a little bit of everything, my skin is smooth and swarthy, like The Rock, I keep my head shaved, and unless I’m home, I don’t have any facial hair, plus, I’m a relatively big man standing at six feet, four inches.
I’ve got muscles from the heavy lifting and other physical work I’ve done for the past seventeen years, and while Rex is no slouch, he’s shorter, has a full head of hair, an impressive as fuck beard, and he’s lean, like a swimmer, with broad shoulders.
He’s also one helluva pilot, having done a stint in the military as well.
I’ve been in the air with him when we’ve run into freak storms, and while we’ve come close to going down for the last time, he always manages to pull a Hail Mary out of his ass or something because other than some bumps and bruises, we’ve always arrived at our destination safe and sound.
Shaking my head at my thoughts, I make sure the rosary that Nonna gave me is tucked into my pocket on my specially made cargo pants, then decide to put in the digital photo frame so I can show the pictures to Rex that Jolie sent of the kittens and their foray into painting.
I’ve watched it so many times after she uploaded it to the link that sends it to the device, and every time, I find something else in the reel to laugh about.
“Those pants are really cool, mister,” a high-pitched voice says. Glancing around, I see a little boy, who is maybe Arya’s age, looking up at me.
“Thanks. They’re a special design,” I reply. “The fabric has been treated so it’s both flame-retardant and water-repellant. Do you know what that means?”
“It means that they won’t get wet, but they also won’t catch on fire, right?” he asks, a hopeful look in his eyes that maybe he got it correct.
“You’re absolutely right,” I tell him, crouching down.
“See all these pockets? I’m an oil rig welder, so the pockets are special too, almost like a zipper bag you use for lunch sandwiches.
That way, I can carry my phone, my wallet, and anything else I want, and it’ll stay safe, although, when I have to go under water, I lock my phone and wallet in my toolbox. No sense in taking chances.”
He nods, taking in every word and I again think of Arya.
She’s so inquisitive and is at the age where she has no fear about asking questions.
Come to think of it, all three of the kids are like that and I realize that’s probably because of how our parents raised us, as well as our multicultural and multigenerational upbringing.
Damn, I miss being at home with all of them.
It surprises me a little bit due to the fact that my trips home were rather infrequent, mostly around the holidays and if there was something special going on, like a birthday or anniversary.
Outside of that, the day-to-day wasn’t part of who we were until Mom and Dad died.
“What’s that?” he asks, seeing the rosary poking out of one of the pockets I opened.
Grinning, I pull it out and toss a question right back at him. “Do you have any grandmas?”
He nods and says, “I only have one, but I have a great-grandma too!”
“Well, I have a nonna and an abuela, which is Italian and Spanish for grandmother respectively, and my nonna gave me this set of rosary beads before I left on this last work trip. She had her priest bless it for me to help keep me safe.”
Fishing around the neckline of the character T-shirt he’s wearing, he pulls out a silver chain and I see a metallic cross dangling at the end. “That’s what my grandma did too! Only it was her pastor, not a priest. She gave it to me for my last birthday. I just turned eight.”
“My little sister is eight,” I confess.
I watch his eyes widen while I nod, grinning at him. “Yeah, my parents started having kids again after I was already grown and living on my own. Kinda cool, though. Until then, I was an only child.”
“That’s what I am. I want a little brother or even a sister, but Mommy says I’m going to be her one and only. I don’t have a Daddy anymore.”
“I’m sorry, little man. I don’t have one either, but I’m a grown up so while it still hurts that he’s gone, I had him around while I was growing up.”
I watch his eyes fill with tears as he nods. “He got very sick, so we came here to see some doctors. They couldn’t make him better again, but they tried very hard.”
Gulping at the raw emotion that’s evident on his face, I open my arms and ask, “Can I give you a hug? It’s what I did when I came home with Arya, Anniston, and Thad when I found out about my parents.”
Normally, I’d never offer something like that since the culture today is so vile with sick people preying on kids, but during our conversation, an attractive woman came up behind him and has been listening to us, occasionally wiping away tears as her little boy chatters away.
He doesn’t hesitate, he jumps into my arms, his little arms winding around my neck with surprising strength. I feel him shudder then he sighs out, “I’ve missed hugging my daddy, Mister.”
“And I’ve been missing the kids. My wife and I are raising them now, but I’ve been gone for work, so this is perfect for me as well,” I whisper into his ear. “Thank you, little man, for hugging me back.”
“Do you have pictures?” he asks, pulling back.
I quickly glance at my watch and realize Rex won’t be here for a few more minutes, so I reach into one of my pockets and pull out the digital frame Jolie got me, power it up, and start showing him the pictures of my family, pointing out each member.
“Do you want to see what the kittens did to my wife yesterday?” I ask, grinning at his mom. “You’ll want to see this too, hold on.”
I stand back up and motion to some chairs and as soon as we’re settled, I start the video, longing searing through my soul hearing Jolie’s voice as she sings along to the music she has playing in the background then she switches to talking to the kitties once she hears them.
The little boy’s giggles as he watches make me want to have babies with Jolie.
See, she found the other video from the camera she had already installed in the loft after she sent me her video, which is what has had me intermittently laughing this morning.
Of course, her aftermath recording she made is just as funny, because she’s trying to fuss at the kittens while she’s laughing, but seeing the antics of the tiny animals is hysterical.
“Mommy, look at that!” he crows, smiling at his mom.
“I’d have died,” she admits, glancing at me. “Your wife definitely extended them a lot of grace because they made a heckuva mess.”
“That they did, but she said even as distressed as she was about the extra work, she was more worried that they might have licked the paint from themselves and gotten sick. The older cat is hers while the two little menaces are Arya’s, and right now, Jolie, my wife, is overseeing their care because all three kids are away at camp. ”
“I’m going to a 4 H camp next week and I’ll get to ride horses!”
“You’re going to have a great time,” I reply, fondly remembering my days at camp. “I bet they take y’all fishing too.”
He nods and says, “We’re going to learn to kayak if we already know how to swim, which I do, my Daddy taught me, and do crafts and stuff.”
“Make sure you eat plenty of s’mores,” I reply. “Best snack ever.”
Of course, I don’t eat them all that often anymore, but I suspect, if the firepit that I spied on the patio that Jolie built is any indication, that’s going to change in the future and I’m looking forward to enjoying them once again.
“They’re so messy!” he chortles. “The last time Mommy made them for us, she ended up using the hose to spray me down because I had chocolate and melted marshmallows all over my face and hands. It was awesome!”
I’m about to reply when I see Rex walk through the automatic doors and heading toward me. “Well, that’s my ride. I enjoyed talking to you, buddy. You take care now and behave for your mom, okay?”
“I will, Mister. Thanks for talking to me. Mommy says I never meet a stranger, but how am I supposed to make friends if I don’t talk to people?”
Shaking my head, I warn him. “Just be careful, Little Man, not everyone is a good person.” And for a boy as young as he is, he’ll have a hard time telling the difference.
“I only do it when she’s around, right, Mommy?” he replies, looking up at his mom for approval. “I learned about bad people in school and both Mommy and Daddy talked to me as well.”
Shouldering my duffel bag after tucking the things I showed him back into my pockets, I nod. “Glad to hear that. Again, I’m sorry you lost your dad.”
“I’m sorry yours is gone too, Mister,” he replies as we walk away. “Be careful! That’s what my grandma always tells me when I leave.”
I’m chuckling as I stride through the door as I reply, “So do mine, buddy, so do mine.”
“I see you’re making new friends,” Rex teases as we head to the airport. Sometimes, I’ll have another driver and meet Rex at the helicopter, but this time, he was already in town, so I told Bruce that we’d just ride in together.
I mean, over the years, we’ve become good friends. He’s someone I feel like I can count on. Not quite as close as Brock, of course, but we know enough about each other that whenever we do work together, we’re able to catch up on things that’ve happened while we’ve been apart.
“The little guy saw me and started talking to me,” I reply. I then relay our conversation, making him laugh when I describe the video.
“I’ve gotta see both of them,” he finally gasps out, having laughed so hard his cheeks are ruddy and he has tears streaming down his face. “Poor Jolie.”
“Right? I don’t think she’s slept much since I’ve been gone, though,” I admit.
“What makes you say that?”
“Well, when I show you everything she’s built or has in progress, you be the judge. She probably only sleeps, at most, three or four hours a night. That isn’t healthy.”
He glances at me and nods. “What you do is an adjustment, man. I’m sure she’s feeling as though the weight of the world is resting on her shoulders, you know what I mean?
Before you two got married, she only had to worry about herself, but now, she’s got two crazy ass senior citizens, three kids, a huge ass house, and a furred and finned menagerie to corral. Sounds like fucking heaven to me.”
“Still single, eh?” I question. These past few jobs I’ve had another pilot besides Rex, so I’m glad I have my friend alongside me.
“Actually, Emily and I are back together again,” he says. “We’ve been back together about three months or so. I take it that Brock’s still single as a pringle?”
I start laughing because they’re so on and off that I have a hard time keeping up with their relationship status.
He pulls into the airport then turns right to go to the civilian plane sector where his helicopter is waiting for us.
We still have to operate under the Federal Aviation Administration guidelines, of course, but we’ll be on a different flight path than the commercial airliners that steadily arrive and depart overhead since helicopters usually fly at a much lower altitude.
Once we’re through the security check and park in the designated area, “Yeah. His folks are to the point they don’t feel he’s ever going to settle down. ”
Grabbing our bags, we start walking across the tarmac to the Sikorsky S92 helicopter waiting on the pad, the gleaming paint with the company logo momentarily blinding me as I failed to put my sunglasses on, something I quickly rectify.
We put our bags in the back and I strap them down before climbing into the passenger seat while Rex begins his pre-flight checks.
After he’s satisfied, he climbs in, we both make sure we’ve got our life vests on, something Rex insists on whenever we fly over water, buckle down, and he hits the switch to start the rotors. As the big bird warms up, he starts talking to the tower, inputting the information accordingly.
Just before we take off, he grins at me, gives me a thumbs up, then says, “Let’s blow this popsicle stand!”
“Sounds like a plan to me,” I reply, grateful that our headsets have mics on them. They help deaden some of the noise from the helicopter but we’re still able to talk.