Chapter 6
MAUREEN
Maureen was smirking and sipping her coffee at her desk while waiting for the phone to ring, hoping for an appointment or two to cross her path.
Things had been pretty meager lately and she could really, really use the work.
While it was nice to be able to work from home in her renovated accommodations, most of her clients didn’t want to drive the forty minutes out to her new location.
The loyal ones did, and for that she was grateful.
Moving, changing locations, breaking up with her boyfriend months ago - all of it had been super stressful but so very necessary for the soul…
but never in a million years did she think that guy from the wedding would actually email her…
and nearly spit out her coffee when she read the last line.
“He’s gotta fire his… his brother?” she gasped, horrified as she re-read the email once more. “Was that the same one that got married? How much of a cold fish can one person be? Sheesh – ‘Ultra Douche’ move there, buddy. I’m surprised at how truly low you can actually go in that game of Limbo.”
Hesitating, she read the email a third time just to be sure, clucked her tongue, and then proceeded to hit reply while still frowning. This guy needed a reality check, but maybe it was too late for that, she mused silently and then paused before typing.
Hey Eli,
I remember you – tall guy, douchey-attitude, a lofty sneer that could freeze Lake Michigan in the summertime, oh yes.
Tell me the mighty Archangel hasn’t been blasted down in rank and now forced to exist among the wretched commoners of the world – because I don’t think you’d make it.
I was very surprised to get your email… and the contents.
I don’t tell many of my friends this, but have you considered therapy?
Lots of people benefit from it, so I’m pretty sure Narcissistic guys would too.
Why do you have to fire your brother? That seems like a very, um, extreme and final move that could divide a family – and not one I’d recommend unless it were a last resort…
and for the love of everything holy, don’t spring it on him over dinner or publicly.
Keep your dirty laundry behind closed doors; it would be so much better…
but then again, that’s just my opinion from the trenches where the fungus grows.
Feel free to share the details when you write back – and I have a feeling you will. This has truly piqued my curiosity in a weird, possibly twisted, way that has you cringing when the soap opera ends on a cliffhanger.
“Stay tuned for the next episode of ‘The Ego is Might’…” or maybe it should be named ‘The Dimly Lit Light’? What do you think? This is me – biting my fingernails, with so many, many questions that need answers, friend.
Maureen
P.S. You should probably try some relaxation therapy or listen to idyllic music, just so when that blood vessel bursts from the staggering amount of stress I’m picking up from your email - you can go out of this world listening to the wind in the reeds, bubbling water, or birds singing… ya’ know?
P.S.S. Do you meditate?
P.S.S.S. You should try it or something – you’re like… worrisome.
P.S.S.S.S – I’m a really good listener if you need to unload that ‘U-Haul of a melon-head’… just saying.
P.S.S.S.S.S – because what’s one more at this point, right?
Chuckling, Maureen clicked send and sat back in her chair, staring at the screen as she picked up her coffee once more, taking another sip.
Was it harsh and overly critical? Probably…
but sometimes you got farther in a conversation by being brutally honest and candid – and Eli didn’t strike her as the type to respond to cutesy terms, a sugary voice, or gingerly addressing things… just like her.
She was very much a ‘ruler’ type of personality in almost every aspect of her life except when working.
That brought about a zen state in her soul, and she truly enjoyed her job.
Heck, she was convinced that every office environment should have dimmed lights, yoga music, and scented diffusers creating a more relaxed atmosphere.
The reality tended to suck the joy right out of your soul, so why not push back with little things, making carving out a life for yourself less of a burden?
Pausing, Maureen leaned forward suddenly, her mind racing with a second thought as she opened up her sent email.
Reading the email once again and her reply, she sighed dejectedly.
Thinking about him, his high-and-mighty attitude, and her ‘wallflower man’…
this email was a silent cry for help, and she’d just blasted into him like the worst possible friend in the universe.
Cracking her knuckles, she began to type once more.
Hey Eli,
You know, on second thought, take it from me…
meditation and some alone time in a comforting space would probably do you wonders, giving you a chance to process whatever is happening in your life right now.
When I feel like things are too much, I’m on the edge, or I just need a second to breathe – I usually take a moment to gather my thoughts so I can figure out my next steps.
I’m glad you shared with me about your call sign – but I must admit that feels like almost a backhanded badge of honor given at the same time. Does it bother you? Because if you never shared the story, that call sign really makes a person look at you differently… I would know.
I’m really sorry you are having to let your brother go – because I would think that would be amazing to work together, and it seems like a real shame. I can’t imagine the emotions and stress that this puts on you as a person, much less a boss.
Breathe.
It’s going to be okay.
Maureen
Clicking send, checking her schedule once more and seeing it empty, Maureen sighed heavily and decided that perhaps now was as good a time as any to take Harley up on that offer to talk.
Twenty minutes later, Maureen was regretting that decision.
Flyboys was humming with activity, which completely took her by surprise considering how small a town Yonder was.
There had to be at least fifty people buzzing around as an airplane took off in the distance – and another one was coming in to land.
For a moment, she wondered if she was supposed to park on the street because there were cars everywhere… and then heard a piercing whistle.
Blinking, Maureen saw Glory in the distance holding up what looked like a metal stick, almost like a flag bearer in a parade – who then pointed in her direction.
Heads turned, people paused what they were doing, and Maureen nearly threw her car in reverse and bolted out of the small gravel driveway, only to see someone jogging in her direction now.
She’d been spotted, identified, and was being actively approached – and this was a small town.
If she backed out now, ignored everything, and left…
it wouldn’t look good for her business and gossip would spread like wildfire.
“And here we go,” Maureen muttered under her breath, rolling down the window and plastering a fake smile on her face as the man drew to a halt, drawing in a breath, and smirking at her. “Hello.”
“Whew,” he chuckled. “I guess not running laps is taking a toll on me – or it’s the four cups of coffee I had this morning. You’re Archangel’s girlie, aren’t you?”
“I’m his friend – not his girl,” she corrected and winced at the rush of happiness that raced down her spine at the mistaken association. The man chuckled, shook his head, and then looked at her.
“It’s early, huh?”
“What?”
“Nothing,” he chuckled again, winking at her before pointing.
“Go ahead and park your car up by the hangar. Glory makes the team park behind the hangar or the building with the classrooms. She keeps us in line out here while my sister runs a tight ship on the inside of our building – I’m Alpo, by the way,” he offered, holding out a hand just as Maureen moved to shake it.
They both paused awkwardly – because they obviously realized at the same time how filthy his palm was.
Instead of making things odd - especially with it being Harley’s brother – Maureen grabbed his pointer finger between two of her fingers and shook it, making both laugh in understanding.
“Welcome to Flyboys, Archangel’s friend… ” he teased and waved her past him.
Pulling forward, Maureen parked her car and gave a few casual smiles to those people who were watching her carefully.
Probably all with the same assumptions as Harley’s brother had a few moments ago, she thought silently, but wasn’t really upset…
it was more of an uneasiness that she felt, especially with how things had ended while Archangel was here.
“Now I’m even referring to him in my head as Archangel,” she muttered, walking up the steps to Flyboys – only to have the door open almost violently, coming face to face with Harley.
“I just made a fresh pot of coffee, but we’ve gotta hurry before Valkyrie lands that plane.
I swear, no one should drink as much coffee as that man does,” Harley began in a rush and stepped back, waving Maureen inside.
“Coffee is a hot commodity around here, and with several of the guys now carrying their Flyboys insulated tumblers, well… my coffee pot is a little too empty much too often, if you get my drift,” Harley finished with an exasperated sigh.
“Let me guess – they leave the empty pot?” Maureen offered knowingly with a smile, stepping inside the flight school.
“Yes – and don’t even get me started on the toilet seat being left up all the freakin’ time,” Harley laughed. “I’m working with savages, I tell you.”