Blue Skies (14 page)

As she drove back to his house, she saw him walking toward the curb, pulling his suitcase on rollers behind him. She should have figured Carlisle would keep a bag packed for work.

Dixie slammed on the brakes and jumped out, but her driverless car almost ran her over as she rounded the front. She'd forgotten to put it in Park. As soon as she set the gear, she rushed over to Carlisle.

He put up a cautioning hand. “Easy.”

“Yes! Yes, I know! Just get in, okay?” Grabbing his bag away from him, she shoved it onto the pile of stuff in the back seat while Carlisle settled himself in the front, a plant on the floor at his feet. She slammed the back door and jumped into the driver's seat. “Thank you,” she said. “Leaving you there was one of the worst moments of my life.”

“Well, being left could have been one of the
last
moments of mine.”

 

The kids were wild about living in Las Vegas. They'd expected just another desert city like Phoenix, but Las Vegas was a fantasyland. Life-size pirate ships did battle right on Las Vegas Boulevard; brightly colored hot air balloons raced over the desert; choreographed fountains danced sixty feet in the air to the strains of Andrea Bocelli's “Con Te Partirò.” Nikki took them to dinner in the Eiffel Tower and for gondola rides along the indoor canals of the Venetian resort.

She also showed them her office at New Century Air,
but it was hard for them to be impressed because of all the confusion and clutter. She introduced them to a few people, whose names they would no doubt forget before they got home—with one exception. Her clotheshorse, April, would never forget Jewel's Prada handbag. Then she called Mark Shows and asked if there was any way they could get on the airplane.

“Matter of fact,” he told her, “we're working on the galleys. I'll pick you up outside Terminal One in fifteen minutes.”

It was perfect. The sun was blinding bright on a hot day with a hot breeze when Mark showed up in his New Century truck. The airplane was parked on the far side of the airport near a group of hangars and other aircraft. All the doors were open with air stairs leading into the fuselage.

April and Jared stared gap-mouthed at the beautiful jet—resplendent in its fresh paint job, dazzling white with lines of silver, gold and black down the sides and up the tail.

“Cool,” Jared said.

Mark stopped the truck near the stairs and they all just sat there for a moment, appreciating the magnificent aircraft.

“Is it really ours?” April asked.

April had no idea what feelings that question had provoked.
Ours.
Yes, it's ours. All of us who work to put it into the air. And our families, too, who feel the birthing process just as keenly as the CEO and pilots and dispatchers.
Ours.
We are its family.

“Good-lookin' piece a tin, ain't she?” Mark asked.

“Damn good-looking,” Nikki said.

“Let's go aboard, then.” He got out of the truck and headed for the stairs. Mark was a large man with a big
stride, but in their excitement, Nikki and the kids had no trouble keeping up. They entered the fuselage to the sounds of drills, saws and hammers as maintenance techs worked on installing a new and enlarged forward galley.

The 757 was completely reconfigured to hold one hundred and fifty seats, approximately forty fewer than capacity. Not only were there more first-class seats, the coach section was far roomier. The seats were black with alternating gold and silver piping, and the carpet was patterned in diamond shapes the same colors. Gorgeous tapestries with the New Century Air logo covered the bulkheads, and the spotlessly clean interior smelled like a new car.

“Wow,” Jared breathed, sitting down in one of the first-class seats.

April smoothed her hand over the rich black threads of the tapestry. “This is so beautiful.”

“Haven't seen one this pretty in a long time,” Mark said around his cigar.

“I haven't seen one this pretty ever,” April said. “I can't believe it, Mom. You're really going to be the chief pilot of this airline?”

Mark put an arm around Nikki's shoulders as if he'd personally trained her for the job. “This here's the boss,” he said.

Later, she would think about how bonding this experience was—taking her kids to the new airplane.
Our
airplane. No matter what else transpired, April and Jared were on her team, on the New Century team.

They had just come to look the place over. There was nothing that would make them go back.

 

“But Nicole,” Opal said, “are you sure you want to take on that much responsibility?”

“Oh, yes, Mother. Do you know how many people work their whole flying careers without ever getting a chance like this?”

“I suppose. But the children…You'll need help with the children….”

Nikki smelled another extended visit coming on. She couldn't make Opal stay away forever, but she could stall her. “The kids are fine. They're helping
me.
Now, be a good mother and give me some time to get settled here before you come racing to Las Vegas. I'll let you know the minute I can handle a visit. All right?”

“You act as though I presume on—”

“Mother! Promise!”

“Why, Nicole…”

“I need a little time and space to settle into the town, the job, the new life. If you show up unannounced, I'll turn you right around and put you on the next plane home.”

Opal sighed heavily. “I do hope you're not going to take too long. I never expected to see sixty, much less—”

I'm going to take as long as possible,
she thought. “Of course not, Mother.”

 

Sometimes April felt a little guilty. Was she allowed to be happy this soon after her dad's death? It was great to be able to spend time with her mom without the headache her dad would put everyone through. Everything was an issue with him, and he wouldn't stop until absolutely everyone was as miserable as he was.

Of course she wasn't glad he was dead. She missed him sometimes; she even found herself talking to him, reassuring him that everything was going all right. But now that she was older, she needed more time with her
mother. Or more accurately, her mom needed more time with her, especially when it came to shopping.

The suites inn where they were staying was right off the Strip, one of the family places where there were no slot machines or smoky bars. They had a small suite with a large bedroom that held two double beds. There was also a living room with a pullout sofa and matching chair, and a kitchenette area that included a microwave, small fridge, table and four chairs. April and Nikki shared the bedroom; Jared kept his clothes in the bedroom and slept on the sofa bed at night. They hadn't packed much, so it was time to shop for new school clothes. What they'd left behind at Papa's would be shipped later, when they found a house.

After a couple of days of looking around the Las Vegas area, checking out the schools, neighborhoods and shopping, Nikki had to think about getting to work. “We've got to get you kids some new clothes,” she announced. “I should probably buy some things for myself, too, since I'm now in an executive position.”

April didn't think much about that statement until later. They left a sulky Jared in front of the TV in the suite; he'd rather have a tooth pulled than go shopping with a couple of girls. This suited April fine. She'd be more than happy to pick out a few things for him if it meant she wouldn't have to listen to him complain all day.

She was so much more like her father and maternal grandmother than her mom and Papa—she
loved
clothes, loved fashion. And the Vegas valley was proving itself up to her shopping standards.

After several hours with only a brief lunch break, Nikki and April were once again in side-by-side dressing rooms.

“Oh, Mom, wait till you see this,” April said. “It is so-o-o-o cool.”

“Show me,” Nikki invited.

April opened the door to Nikki's room, and immediately forgot about the low-ride jeans and brief top she was wearing. Instead, she took one look at Nikki, slumped in the fitting room chair in a skirt, jacket and blouse, her socks still on her feet, and April suddenly knew she was now through shopping for herself, at least for a while.

“That's the thirtieth blue suit you've tried on today,” April groaned. “And it's every bit as gross as the last twenty-nine.”

“It doesn't do much for me, either. But I'm going to have to buy something. I've been wearing a uniform for the past ten years.”

“Stand up,” April ordered. Nikki obliged. “Mom, the skirt's too big, the jacket shoulders are too wide, and the blouse is too frilly. You basically look like you're wearing your mother's clothes.”

“I have a funny shape.”

“No, you don't. You're not trying the right sizes. I think you're a petite. You're kinda short…and short in the stride, too.”

“I don't have the first idea what to try on.”

“Well, let me give you a hint. Not another blue suit.”

“I have to dress like a businesswoman.”

“Really? I met a couple of businesswomen at your office, and they didn't look like that,” April said, a tone of disgust creeping into her voice.

Nikki knew that April could only be thinking of Jewel and a couple of other women who seemed to be imitating her style. “I can't look like a flashy secretary. Believe me, there's no room for sex appeal in this position.
And I sure can't look like one of the guys. By the same token, I have to be taken seriously, and I won't garner much respect if I look like I'm wearing my mother's clothes.”

“You have to start with the right size. I don't think you've even noticed, but your jeans are
hanging
on you. You've lost weight since Daddy died.”

Nikki pulled at the navy skirt. It was her usual size, but she was swimming in it. She thought back over the stress of the summer. If Drake's death wasn't enough, she had worked for weeks getting that house on the market. And then there'd been the excitement of taking on a dream job and moving the whole family. “Hmm,” she said. “Maybe I did, huh?”

“Two sizes,” April said. “On the bottom, anyway.”

Slumping back down in the chair, Nikki removed the clip that had held her naturally curly mane out of her face for the past many years and gave her tired scalp a ruffle. Then she pulled her hair back again and reclipped it. She looked up at April and shrugged.

April shook her head. “You're going to need a little work.”

“But is there much to work with?”

“Oh, come on. I
know
what to do. The question is, are you going to let me?”

“I have only one stipulation,” Nikki said. “I'll try anything you pick out for me, as long as I don't look short and dumpy in it.”

“Why do you always say that?” April asked in frustration. “You aren't short and dumpy. You're petite and have a nice shape. Even better since you've slimmed down around the hips.” She gave her a sidelong appraisal. “You have a hot little figure.”

“I do?” It couldn't be true.

“Who said otherwise?” April wanted to know.

Nikki didn't answer. First her mother and later her husband. Both of them commented so often on her short legs, flat chest and wide hips that that was all she saw in the mirror. Nikki thought of herself as short and dumpy with a freckled face and kinky hair.

“You have a great figure, and it's time to dress it,” April said. “And you have great skin and hair. You just have lousy taste. But don't worry about it—I can't fly as good as you. Now, take off that ugly suit and I'll be right back.”

And so the assembly line began. April enlisted the help of a saleswoman, and between them they reassembled Nikki. First, they made her get rid of the tennies and sweat socks and don a pair of slimming panty hose. A bra with a little more uplift and foundation appeared. Then skirts, slacks, shirts, blouses, jackets, sweaters, pumps and scarves. Not a single navy blue suit was allowed in the fitting room. In fact, the colors were fabulous—April had a real eye for what would look good with Nikki's red hair and light up her green eyes.

“And…as soon as we get your clothes for work, we're going to do something about that hair.”

Nikki gulped. She imagined, fearfully, some punk cut with spikes. Since she'd never been able to control her hair, she'd been tucking it away under her captain's hat. What other option was there? It had to be off her collar—that had been the uniform dress code.

The option turned out to be a layered cut, highlighted blond, that barely reached her collar and curled softly, not tightly, around her face. It took hours out of the next day, but the result was worth it. Nikki wondered why it had never occurred to either her or the woman who had been cutting her hair for fifteen years to try something
different. Of course, she also wondered if she'd ever be able to fix it like that herself.