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Date Posted: 08:16:17 03/26/03 Wed
Author: dqfan
Subject: Re: Say the Words - ch.44
In reply to: dqfan 's message, "Re: Say the Words - ch.43" on 08:08:40 03/26/03 Wed

CHAPTER FORTY FOUR


The stirring, final notes of the Agnes High School Marching Band's patriotic rendition of "O, Canada" left no doubt that the Oakhaven Rest Home Benefit Air Show had, officially, begun.

It was after two o'clock when, under the watchful supervision of Frank and Charity, the Cliffhangers arrived en masse at Morgan's Field. Cheerfully, Charity gave a wave to Annie and Gracie, as well as Curtis, who appeared predictably beleaguered by the unexpectedly large influx of visitors to his quiet little town.

With still a few hours to go until the main event…Alexander Becker's daring parachute jump…the crowd was enjoying themselves with clowns, game booths, amusement rides, and numerous food concession stands. Cautiously, Frank allowed the Cliffhangers to disperse within the perimeters of the fairgrounds in search of any reasonable enjoyment.

Instantly, they coupled off: Shelby and Scott, Auggie and Juliette, Ezra and Daisy. Only David had been forced to remain behind. Unfortunately, his woeful declaration to Daisy that "guys in uniform give me the hives," wasn't an exaggeration. The idea of attending a military air show had sent David's immune system reeling; and, when he woke that morning, the hives were present and accounted for. As always, it was just another cruel reminder of his father's tight-fisted grip on David's damaged psyche.

But, for the other Cliffhangers, April 23rd was a day free from the confines of Mount Horizon, a day without chores or hikes, a day to explore and experience the air show just like all the other "normal" kids in town.

So, as the band began playing such dubious, yet inevitable, selections as "Come Fly With Me" and "Up, Up, and Away," they each chose their favorite pasttime. Scott dragged Shelby toward the nearest game booth, determined to win her the biggest stuff bear that he could. Auggie convinced Juliette she could eat - really eat - one half of the perfect enchilada with him. And, Ezra and Daisy went snooping - for Peter, or Sophie, or any sign of impending doom, wherever it might strike…

"One hot dog…that's all I ask," Daisy pleaded as Ezra held her wrist tightly to keep her close behind him.

"How can you think of food at a time like this, Daise? You agreed my premonition was right, didn't you?" Ezra whispered, though there was no one around to hear them as they approached the bowels of the grandstand.

"Yes, but that doesn't mean I'm not hungry…" Daisy moaned as Ezra zigzagged them under one pillar and then another, searching for foulplay.

Daisy's sigh was heavy as she narrowly avoided bumping her head on a low beam. "And just what exactly do you expect to find under here?" she asked, curious about Ezra's intentions.

"We have to start somewhere, don't we?" Ezra rationalized, unwilling to admit he had no idea what he was looking for.

"Might I suggest the hangar? Or the airfield, perhaps?" Daisy's quite logical choices caught Ezra off-guard and he stopped abruptly.

"Good thinking…" he acknowledged with the seriousness of a master sleuth.

"Why don't we split up?" Daisy offered, catering to Ezra's aura of mystery as well as her own agenda. "I'll take the airfield and you check out the hangar."

"You sure you'll be okay alone?" Ezra worried endearingly.

"Just fine," Daisy assured him confidently. "I'll meet you at the hangar..."

Begrudingly, Ezra nodded, glancing carefully over both shoulders before he proceeded. Eyes darting this way and that, he maneuvered nonchalantly across the crowded field, knocking no more than five or six bystanders off balance along his way.

Daisy smiled and shook her head. Inexplicably, Ezra Friedkin was appearing more and more attractive to her by the minute.

Still, her most pressing need was yet to be fulfilled. With Ezra now safely out of earshot and her mouth watering in anticipation, Daisy amended her last sentence with glee.

"I'll meet you at the hangar…right after I have my hot dog."

^^^^^^^^^^^^

A prime viewing section had been reserved for the residents of the Oakhaven Rest Home. Under Stephanie Burke's medical supervision, all occupants capable of doing so had been encouraged to attend the festivities. The fresh air and envigorating atmosphere had been Stephanie's enthusiastic prescription for the Oakhaven populace on such a breezy spring day.

Ted McFadden sat front row center, as befitted the guest of honor. Dr. Burke would sit beside him on his right - that is, if she could manage to settle the sporadically cantankerous Oakhaven residents successfully into their seats before showtime. The two chairs on Ted's left in the VIP section had been reserved for Sophie and Peter, in expectation of their arrival once the performance was safely underway.

With unfailing patience, Stephanie tended to each and every retiree, until only two empty seats remained in the rear. Apparently, Mrs. O'Rorke and Mr. Farnsworth had chosen, at the last minute, not to attend. As Stephanie joined Ted in the front row, a suspicious smirk crossed her face. Upon consideration, she surmised that the absentees were very likely taking advantage of the opportunity to engage in a cozy rendezvous for two. Stephanie knew the pair well enough to reflect, with a chuckle, that, undoubtedly, today would be a thrilling day for everyone…

Her patients all finally comfortable, Stephanie turned to enjoy the band. Meanwhile, in the back row, an equally devoted couple slipped unnoticed into Mrs. O'Rorke and Mr. Farnsworth's two empty chairs.

"Some crowd, huh?" Sully commented lightly.

Placing his arm protectively about his wife's shoulder, Sully entwined his fingers intimately within the needlework of Michaela's shawl, drawing her near. Comfortably, they settled themselves amidst the senior citizens, blending seamlessly into the Oakhaven contigent.

"Indeed, it appears almost everyone is here," Michaela noted, impressed with the scope of the festivities.

Transported, Michaela's senses absorbed the surroundings. The fanfare of trumpets and tubas…the jubilant laughter of children…the spontaneous cheers of a spirited crowd…all, harkened her back to another time and place.

"Reminds me of the day the train first came to town," she sighed wistfully, remembering the chaotic week before her wedding so vividly.

Unavoidably, Sully's mind equated the calamitous advent of the railroad with the similarly disastrous outcome he expected this day would yield.

"And we all know how that turned out," he muttered wryly.

Miffed, Michaela shot Sully a disapproving glance and turned her head in reproach. For just a moment she had allowed herself the luxury of forgetting what very likely lay ahead. Now, she could no longer avoid it.

Stubbornly, Michaela refused to accept the irony of Sully's rhetoric.

"I choose to believe today will be different, Sully…" she declared defiantly.

Sully shook his head with a chuckle. She was so beautiful, even when she was angry with him. Winsomely, he nudged Michaela's clenched jaw with his finger. Turning her to face him, his eyes begged forgiveness for his flippant remark.

With a deep sigh, Michaela tilted her head and relaxed into a smile, irresistibly granting his reprieve the moment he sought it.

"What made ya change yer mind?" he asked gently, with the greatest respect for her intuition, even in the face of what they expected to be true.

"I'm not sure…" she shrugged in response, faltering as she struggled to express her deepest feelings. "Perhaps I just…"

Even without words, Michaela's soul spoke to him. Sully's eyes brimmed with love as he heard what was in her heart.

"Live in hopes?" he finished softly, recalling the tiny infant named for the words of his chief.

Linking her fingers with his, Michaela marveled at their spiritual connection. "You know me so well," she admitted shyly.

"Like t'think so…" Sully winked, snuggling her close.

Just the sound of Sully's voice was enough to make Michaela feel so safe and secure.

"So, whatd'ya say we give it a try?" he suggested optimistically.

"What?" Michaela puzzled, not quite following him.

"Hope…" Sully repeated softly, knowing it was all they had left.

Silently, Michaela nodded; and, together, they did just that.

^^^^^^^^^^

Sophie paced the warehouse hangar like a caged lion. She was as nervous as a cat - a big cat. This had to work. It had to go perfectly. And it would. When she heard the door to the warehouse slide open, Sophie took a deep centering breath. She was ready. Peter…Josh…her father…Sophie had rehearsed what she would say to each of them. Confidently, she had smoothed every hole in her plan.

"Excuse me, I was looking for Commander Becker…"

Sophie's turn toward the door stopped abruptly, halfway. She'd heard that voice before. Sophie gulped in the presence of her unexpected visitor. She definitely hadn't rehearsed anything to say to him!

Suddenly, the Grand Canyon was sitting in the middle of Sophie's plan...

^^^^^^^^^

"Annie, have you seen Sophie?" Peter yelled across the din of the crowd. "We were supposed to meet at Horizon and drive here together but she left me a note that she'd gone on ahead…"

Cheerfully, Annie plopped a piece of cotton candy in her mouth and then handed the fluffy stick to Gracie. "Probably ran off with that young handsome pilot. Men like that are hard to find…" she teased mercilessly.

"So I hear…" Peter scoffed, rolling his eyes.

Deciding to start at the warehouse and work his way to the airfield, Peter gave Annie a pat on the shoulder goodbye. "Thanks for the help…" he smiled, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Any time…" Annie waved with a smirk, snatching another piece of cotton candy from Gracie before it disappeared.

^^^^^^^^^^

The warehouse door was open when Peter arrived. Spying Sophie at the far end of the room, Peter was about to call her name when he caught himself. She wasn't alone. She was with an older officer he'd never seen before.

"Well, at least it's not Josh," he comforted himself slightly.

But, there was something so strange about the scene he was witnessing. Sophie and the officer were just standing there, staring at each other, a safe distance apart. The slightest gesture from one caused the other to step back. They moved as adversaries - unlikely ones at that - as if a mountain lion had discovered a shark while taking his morning bath. Each waited to see what would happen.

With a growing sense of uneasiness, Peter slipped quietly into the small office Sophie had used for a classroom and remained just out of sight. Ready to intervene if she needed help, but curious who the man was, Peter chose not to interrupt. Rather, he watched and he listened, fascinated by the unfolding conversation.

"Com…Commander…Charles Armstrong," the man cleared his throat.

Awkwardly, Charles extended his hand, trying to introduce himself to the haunting reflection of his lost love.

"Sophie Becker…"

Peter had never heard such coldness in Sophie's voice, such disdain. Intently, he watched as Sophie chose to clasp her hands behind her back rather than accept the Commander's handshake.

Charles' worst fears were confirmed in that instant. Sophie knew who he was. But how could she possibly remember him? It was so many years ago and she was so young. Yet, in retrospect, perhaps she wasn't that young at all.

Poignantly, Charles envisioned the little girl with the sad, disappointed eyes. She was older now but her eyes still held that veil of sadness. Regrettably, Charles accepted the fact that he had been the one to put it there.

Did she really remember? Or perhaps, Alexander had told her of his arrival? Told her everything? Charles was finding it difficult to concentrate. Sophie looked so much like Maureen that it was all he could do not to reach out and touch her face or feel her hair. All of Charles' dashed dreams were standing directly before him in the person of one Sophie Becker. It was as if he had shed twenty-five years in a single second and the promise of his future still lay gloriously ahead.

Perplexed, Peter struggled to understand what was happening. He watched as, nervously, the man placed his hand inside his collar to loosen the grip about his neck. Real or imagined, he was obviously feeling quite uncomfortable in Sophie's presence. And Sophie… The color was draining from her face so fast that it made Peter feel ill just to watch her.

Whatever this confrontation was, it was killing them both…

"I came to give your father his discharge papers…" Charles explained perfunctorily. He had faced enemy artillery for heaven's sake. He wouldn't let this woman rattle him now.

"Not staying for the farewell, I see?" Sophie's question was innocent enough but the daggers beneath it were razor sharp as she received the papers from Charles' hand.

Immediately, the edge in Sophie's voice reminded Peter of that night at Rusty's. The night they'd first met Josh. What was it Sophie had told him? "This farewell means the world to him, Peter, and his commanders couldn't care less…"

Slowly, Peter began to suspect that Commander Armstrong was the man Sophie had referred to with such bitterness that evening.

"No," Charles replied succinctly. "I have more important business to attend to…"

"I'm sure you do…" Sophie's condemnation was growing stronger by the minute, Peter worried gravely. There had to be more to this than a simple slight of military protocol. The hollow stare in Sophie's eyes told him that.

Listening closely for his next clue, Peter was stunned with the speed with which it came.

"I loved your mother, Sophie," Charles blurted, deciding to lay his cards on the table once and for all. If Sophie wanted to discuss the events of twenty-five years ago, then, by God, he was ready.

Peter's mouth dropped open in amazement as, instinctively, he knew. It was the only explanation possible - the only provocation that would justify Sophie's relentless hostility.

In a flash, Peter's mind returned to the old homestead. Sophie had been telling him about her mother's death in a car crash, along with her husband, Philip. Impulsively, Peter had asked Sophie if Philip was the one she and Alexander had found Maureen in bed with that night. But Sophie had said no. At the time, Peter saw no reason to pry further into Sophie's painful past by asking if she knew the identity of Maureen's lover. Now, he had even less of a reason to ask. It was written all over Sophie's face. Peter would have bet a million dollars on it. The man was Charles Armstrong.

Unswayed by Charles' declaration of love, Sophie took a deep breath and, proceeded to make a decision. She would look forward not back. She would focus on making today the best, most triumphant farewell for her father that she could. She would not allow the pathetic likes of Charles Armstrong to inject jealousy and envy into the equation, nor would she allow her mother's memory to be tarnished by any further humiliating discussions. It was time to let the past, and her mother, rest in peace.

Ending the conversation once and for all, Sophie looked Charles squarely in the eye and dared him to respond to her last words on the subject.

"I loved her, too," she declared with the utmost finality.

Charles nodded quietly and took his cue to leave, closing the door on that chapter of his life once and for all. What a welcome relief it would be for this business finally to be concluded...Alexander and Sophie both out of sight, out of mind - forever. Indeed, Charles would be very happy if he never heard the name "Becker" ever again.

Momentarily shaken, Sophie dropped her head into her hands, willing herself not to cry. She couldn't afford to be rattled - not now, not today. Standing tall in her determination, Sophie crossed her arms and rubbed them vigorously with her hands for support.

"I'm okay," she encouraged herself aloud, thinking the warehouse was empty. "I can do this…for Dad."

"Do what?" Peter wondered fleetingly.

Only two steps from making himself known…from drawing Sophie into his embrace and comforting her, Peter was forced to withdraw back into the office when the warehouse door groaned open a second time.

Cautiously, Peter watched as Sophie wiped away a stray tear and composed herself for this next visitor.

"Hey, Sophie," Josh greeted cheerfully. "Ready for your tour o' the plane?"

"Josh…" Peter growled under his breath.

"Absolutely, Josh, thank you…" Sophie forced a smile on her face. There was work to be done.

"I bet they've made a lot of improvements in the F-20 since the last time I flew in one," Sophie chatted as innocently as possible.

"I don't suppose they kept that useless storage area in back," she fished for details while Peter listened suspiciously. Sophie was up to something. He could almost swear it.

"You know, I used to hide back there sometimes when I was a kid," she charmed Josh easily. "Though I probably couldn't fit in there now."

"Oh, sure ya could," Josh flattered her with a smile. "With your figure…"

Josh's youthful attraction to Sophie was growing by the minute. This world-traveling, skydiving, beautiful older woman had bewitched him thoroughly. Tentatively, Josh extended his hand to Sophie, brushing his fingertips lightly over her palm.

Peter's blood boiled, his voice seething inside his head, "Get your hands off her, Flyboy…"

Just one more move and Peter was ready to send Josh zooming to Mars, courtesy of his left hook.

With a shy grin, Sophie chose that moment to sweep the hair back from her face with her hand. Her casual gesture allowed her to avoid Josh's subtle overture. He was a very sweet young man and Sophie felt guilty enough about toying with Josh's obvious affections for her own purposes. The least she could do was not encourage him too strongly.

"That is so sweet of you to say, Josh," she smiled coyly.

"Why don't you let me buy you a hot dog?" she invited, planning to ditch her handsome admirer and make a beeline for the plane before he suspected.

"After all, a man shouldn't fly on an empty stomach," Sophie flirted shamelessly to her own devices.

"Maybe we could share one?" Josh suggested with an eager eye, still hopeful for a chance with her.

"Well, maybe we could…" Willingly, Sophie accepted Josh's offer, praying that her harmlessly provocative banter with the young airman would be her first-class ticket to the ride of her life.

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