Sins of the Flesh (49 page)

It took the judge thirty-three minutes to award Nellie Philippe's share of Fairmont Studios and unlock the freeze he'd previously imposed. Bebe sat with her back ramrod stiff as the judge examined three years worth of letters lovingly written from Nellie Tarz to her husband—letters that had been duly sealed, awaiting a mailing address that had never been sent her. Now he ripped them open, glancing at the baby pictures contained within and perusing a few of the letters themselves, his jaw tightening as he did so.

“It is the opinion of this court that Philip Tarz is an irresponsible young man and does not deserve one iota of consideration from this court,” he announced. “He has been gone for three years and ten months, in which time his wife has given birth to their son. I find that she has acted in an exemplary manner in caring for her son while this young man is off doing God only knows what. It is the opinion of this court that Cornelia Bishop Tarz be awarded her husband's share of Fairmont Studios. Mrs. Tarz, Mrs. Cornelia Tarz, has petitioned this court to have all her husband's holdings placed in trust for her son. This court sees no reason to deny this request. Therefore, I am granting this request and appointing Cornelia Tarz sole custodian of that trust. This court is adjourned!”

Eyes straight ahead, Bebe marched from the judge's chambers seething with anger. From behind her a tiny voice called, “Grandmama.” She fought to suppress the scream of rage building in her throat. Her feet sprouted wings as she raced from the building.

Grandmama…. The child was a puppet, obediently mouthing the words Nellie prompted him to say. At his age he neither knew nor cared about a grandmother.

“Damn you, Nellie, damn you to hell!”

As the judge was deciding his financial fate, Philippe was starting thirty days of R and R with his buddy, Mike Almeda. Thirty days of rest and relaxation and then three days of paperwork, and he would be an ex-navy aviator with reserve status. Counting their accumulated leave, they were departing the navy six weeks ahead of schedule.

Dressed in navy whites, their aviator wings pinned securely to their dress blouses, the two flyers saluted each other smartly. Battle fatigue, not uncommon among flyers with twenty-two zeros apiece, deserved special consideration, the C.O. had told them.

Mike snapped a second smart salute. “Lieutenant, after you,” he said with a wide, sweeping bow, a wicked grin on his face.

Philippe snapped off his own salute. “Mike, if I don't say this now, I might never say it. Aside from being the best goddamn wingman a pilot could want, you're a hell of a guy. Do you realize we've been through a war together and are still alive to talk about it?”

“Hell, yes, and I don't want to talk anymore. I don't want to think about all those Nips and that fucking flak and those carriers. We're home free, buddy.”

Philippe's face clouded. Home. He was going to Sacramento with Mike to spend his R and R and to finally meet Lizzie, Mike's sister. “I guess I can give this back to you now,” he said, handing Mike the picture of Lizzie.

Mike squinted at it. “It's a little wrinkled, Phil. I seem to recall your telling me I was a slob and would wrinkle it all up and that's why you were keeping it. Shit, I can't even see Lizzie's face for all the wrinkles. What'ja do with it? It looks like it's been through a war!” He laughed at his own joke, but he didn't reach for the picture.

“You know, Phil, I bunked with you, flew with you for almost four years,” he continued. “There are times when I think I know you better than you know yourself, and then I realize I don't know you at all. I feel that way right now. Look, I never wanted to stick my nose into your business, and I never asked questions because you…hell, this is going to sound corny, but there were times when I thought you looked haunted…with memories. Jesus, you have the saddest eyes. I
know
you have a family. In my gut I know, yet you went through this whole goddamn war without a phone call or a piece of mail. You're not just an ordinary fly-bird like me—you come from high up, and I can smell the money that's behind you. Anytime you want to open up, you know you can talk to me. Contrary to belief, I do not have a loose lip. End of speech.” He laughed. “What do you say we break a few hearts on the way to Sacramento!”

“Yeah, you break 'em and I have to mend them,” Philippe grumbled good-naturedly. “You son of a bitch, you left a trail of broken hearts halfway around the world. I bet you have nightmares that they're all going to show up on your doorstep at the same time.”

Mike grinned. “Can I help it if I'm irresistible? Women throw themselves at me. Only a fool would back away, and my mother didn't raise any fools. C'mon, we've kept Lizzie waiting long enough. I better warn you now, that girl drives like a bandit.”

“Must run in the family,” Philippe snorted. “You fly like a bandit.”

“I saved your ass more than once,” Mike countered laughingly.

“I know, Mike,” Philippe said, his eyes softening, “and I'll never forget it.”

Mike stopped in his tracks and turned Philippe around until their eyes were locked. “How come you didn't remind me of the time you wet-nursed me back to the
Hornet
? Without you sweet-talking me in and flying under my belly, I would have hit the drink and Uncle Sam would have taken that plane out of my hide.”

“Part of my job, Lieutenant. I'm the shy type, not like some guys I know.”

“Yeah, well, I owe you for that.”

“You don't owe me anything,” Philippe said, embarrassed. “Both of us did what we had to do. Knock it off.”

“Nah, I owe you and I'm gonna pay up in about…oh, three minutes from now. I'm giving you Lizzie!” He doubled over laughing as he raced through the gates, Philippe on his heels. Both pilots came to a grinding halt when a tall, willowy blonde stretched out her arms to welcome them.

Philippe sucked in his breath, his hand poised on the visor of his cap. An angel with a wide, warm smile stood before them, laughing now as her twin hugged her, her dress hiking up over long, slim legs. She was dressed in cornflower blue with matching shoes and a wide-brimmed white straw hat that was being carried off in the light breeze. Philippe ran for it and caught it just as it was about to land in the dust. He carried it back, his ears and neck warm as he waited to be introduced.

“This guy,” Mike said, his arms around his sister's waist, “is the best goddamn flyer the navy has turned out, next to me. Lizzie, this is Philip Reuben, the guy I wrote you about.”

Greenish-blue eyes full of tiny little yellow flecks stared into dark brown eyes. “Welcome to Sacramento, Philip. Thanks for taking care of this dodo. You probably know by now he doesn't have sense enough to come in out of the rain.”

“I noticed,” Philippe said huskily as he extended his hand. Lizzie ignored it, reaching forward instead to kiss him lightly on the cheek. How soft and pink her lips were, Philippe thought. Christ, she wasn't just pretty, she was downright beautiful. Mike hadn't lied; the picture he'd carried all during the war hadn't done her justice.

In the time it took the three of them to walk from the gates of the base to Lizzie's car, Philippe Bouchet fell totally and hopelessly in love with Lizzie Almeda, and Lizzie Almeda, doctor of veterinary medicine, fell totally and hopelessly in love with Philippe Bouchet.

“Ah, now, hold on a minute, Lizzie,” Mike said, opening the car door. “You don't expect me…us, to sit in there with that…that menagerie!”

Philippe bent down to peek through the car window and burst out laughing. Inside, a speckled hunting dog and a taffy-colored spaniel sat upright in the backseat with a hissing cat in a cage between them. On the floor a bright green-and-red parrot was squawking his disapproval. Six puppies of undetermined origin slept in a box on the front seat.

Lizzie laughed, her eyes sparkling with merriment. “Tough, little brother. You called at the last minute, what do you expect? Get in and shut up!”

“I told you she was nuts; now do you believe me?” Mike grumbled to Philippe, who was grinning from ear to ear. “The least you could have done was…Hell, I thought you'd want to impress my friend here. Now what's he gonna think?”

Lizzie looked straight at Philippe over the top of her car. Her voice, he thought, was like a melody. “This,” she said, waving her hands about the car, “is who I am, it's what I do. I operate a free clinic.”

Philippe smiled. “I'm impressed.”

“See!” Lizzie said, pounding her brother on the chest.

“Free! You mean you don't charge! You went to school to do this for nothing! Nobody's going to be dumb enough to marry you if you…Free! For God's sake! Get in, Phil,” he muttered.

Lizzie turned to Philippe. “Would you like me to put the top down?”

“Jesus, no! Somebody might see us!” Mike snarled.

“It would be nice,” Philippe said quietly as he settled himself between the cat's cage and the hunting dog. Yes, it would be nice to see her long blond hair swirling in the breeze. How capable her hands looked on the steering wheel. Hands that could gentle an animal…or a man.

Lizzie pulled the car to a halt at a stop sign. Both dogs slid off the seat. The cat hissed and the parrot squawked. But the puppies in the box on Mike's lap continued to sleep. “I think I should tell you that Mom has a party going on. They roped off the street. Some kid is going to play ‘Anchors Aweigh' on his trombone, and everyone is bringing food. They even put up a sign. Some guy from the local paper is going to take your picture. You're gonna love it. Pop took off work.” Her eyes held all the warmth and merriment of a sunny day. How perfect she was, Philippe thought as he met her gaze in the rearview mirror.

“You better be properly grateful, too, Mike. Mom went to a lot of trouble,” she continued. “Everyone is…well, you know, you're a flyer and all. They think you're important.”

“Aviator, and I am important, so is Phil. Between us we shot down forty-four Nips. That's goddamn important! Oh, shit, these dogs just peed through the box! For Christ's sake, Lizzie, you could have put some straw or something in it!”

“If you don't shut up, I'm booting you out of this car,” Lizzie retaliated. “Why can't you be as…nice as your friend?”

Philippe loved every second of the verbal give and take. He loved the idea of a neighborhood party to honor Mike, and he loved it that Mike's father had taken off work to welcome him home. He loved every animal in the car, and he loved the young girl with the flyaway golden hair.

Nellie Bishop Tarz did not exist as far as he was concerned.

Philippe almost expected Mike's parents to snap to attention when he leapt from the car to run to them. No peacock was ever more proud. Philippe watched shamelessly as Mike's mother wiped her eyes with the hem of her apron. Mike Almeda, Sr., was clapping his son on the back, his face proud, tears glistening in his eyes. Their son was home safe and sound.

“He's a very lucky guy to have all of this,” Philippe said quietly.

Lizzie touched Philippe's arm. “We share. And whatever we have is yours. It's not a lot, but…”

Philippe offered his arm, and Lizzie took it. It was his turn now to be welcomed by the family. He was never happier.

The Almeda family, and there were dozens of them, welcomed him as if he were one of their own. Mrs. Almeda whispered in his ear, “Thank you for taking care of my son.” Mr. Almeda's rough, callused hands clapped him on the back. “My boy don't think they come any better than you,” he said heartily.

“Yes, they do, Mr. Almeda. Mike's one of a kind.”

The older Almeda beamed proudly. Philippe found a bottle of beer shoved into one hand and a thick ham sandwich in the other. He smiled at aunts and uncles and neighbors and marveled at the number of cousins milling about. Scads of children laughed and played, all calling Mike by name. And all the while his eyes kept searching for Lizzie. An hour or so later she finally rescued him and took him into the cool house to show him his room.

In the upstairs hallway she suddenly turned shy. “Mom won't be cooking dinner tonight because of all the food everyone brought, so you better eat hearty. We have just the one bathroom, and you'll share this room with Mike. I hope that's okay.”

“It's fine.” Damn, why was his tongue so thick in his mouth? “You're very pretty,” he blurted out.

“Why…thank you. You're rather handsome yourself,” Lizzie said self-consciously. “Do you mind if I ask you something? It's personal, and Mike is such a—” She wrinkled her nose to show she was searching for a word or phrase that would describe her brother.

“Great guy, is that what you were going to say?”

“Yes…no…he can be a real joker sometimes, a dodo, if you know what I mean. That doesn't mean I don't love him heart and soul, but he's such a joker sometimes…He said you carried my picture all through…the bombing raids. Is that true?”

It was Philippe's turn to become self-conscious. He lifted the flap of his blouse pocket and withdrew Lizzie's picture. His face was red as he held it out. “It's been through a lot. I kind of tricked Mike into giving it to me back in flight school. Does it bother you that I…you gave it to Mike…”

Lizzie laughed. “He said he tricked you into taking it. No, it doesn't bother me. As a matter of fact, I was flattered. I don't know if you know this or not, but his letters were full of you, every one of them. That's why we all feel we know you. He'd start out with the weather, what he was doing, what he'd just done, and how he missed us. That usually took two paragraphs. The rest of the letters were about you and what a great guy you were and how he was lucky to have such a good friend. He said you were the better pilot.”

“I feel the same way about Mike.”

Their eyes locked for a few heart-stopping moments, and then Lizzie broke the contact and turned away. “Well, I guess I better get back to the clinic. Later, if the party gets too boisterous or you want to crash out of here, have Mike bring you by. I board dogs, too, so I have to be there all the time.” She made a little face. “I can't afford an assistant.”

Philippe smiled. “I'd like that.”

“Good, I'll see you later, then. Have fun.”

Mike caught up to his sister as she was getting into her car. “So, sis, what do you think of Phil?”

“Very, very nice,” she said judiciously. “He thinks a lot of you, Mike.”

“Yeah, yeah, nice, sure, but what did you
think
of him? Did'ja like him? You know,
like
him?”

Lizzie knew her brother wouldn't let her drive off until she gave him the answer he wanted to hear. “I think it will take me a few days to fall in love with him. Happy now?”

He grinned. “Sure. He's already in love with you. I could see it the minute he tricked me into giving him your picture. He's an okay guy, Lizzie.”

“You said
you
tricked
him!
” she reminded her brother. “You're playing matchmaker, Mike. Stop it, I'm too old for such nonsense.”

Mike grimaced. He hated it when Lizzie caught him at something. Ever since he could remember, she'd been quicker and brighter than he was, probably because she'd been born two minutes ahead of him. “You better get going to that free zoo you operate. I'll see you later.”

“Why don't you bring Phil by later,” Lizzie called over her shoulder.

“Yeah, I might do that.” Eyes glinting devilishly, he shouted, “I didn't hear you telling old Phil not to call you Lizzie. That must mean something!”