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riptide_asylumTitle: Listless and Faint Ain't No Way to Live
Rating: PG
Summary: Nick and Cody take time out to visit some old friends and the helicopter they have in their safekeeping.
The two of them took their coffee out onto the deck of the Hightide, the better to enjoy a morning that had dawned cool but heated quickly, a powerful sun burning off the sea mist and leaving buttery warmth in its wake.
Cody sank happily onto the white leather banquette at the stern and accepted the whale mug full of decaf Nick gave him. Overhead, a gull screed at the unseasonable late-fall weather, then took its complaints out over the ocean. Nick watched it fly, feeling a twinge of envy. Mornings like these, he wished he still had wings. Wished the crash hadn't broken him, hadn't fucked up three years of his life and nearly cost him the other most perfect thing in this world.
"Penny for your thoughts." Cody sipped his coffee delicately.
Nick blew on his own coffee. "S'nice out. We should do this more often."
"Liar. You're thinking about the Mimi."
Nick didn't bother trying to deny it. He'd long since given up hiding things from Cody. Part of the deal they'd made with one another, forty years and half a world away, was that life was too short to pretend. They’d both broken the deal a time or two when they were young and stupid, but not now. Not for a long time now. He shrugged. “She’s kinda hard to forget, you know?”
“So let’s go see her.”
Nick froze, whale mug half way to his mouth. He raised a shoulder in question and shook his head.
“Seems silly, Nick. We know exactly where she is and we know who has her, she’s not that far away. We should pay her a visit. Take the Hightide up the coast, out for a run.”
“Oh. Is that what we should do, Cody? Why didn’t you just say you wanted to take the boat out?”
Cody nettled. It was much harder to nettle since he’d lost the mustache, but somehow Cody pulled it off. “It was just a suggestion.”
Nick took a swig of hot, bitter coffee, let it blaze a trail down his throat. “No.”
“Nick!” It came out as a yip and Nick marveled that a sixty-three-year-old man could make a noise like that and still maintain his dignity. Then again, Cody’d had a lot of practice in the yipping department.
“--And you’re not even listening to a word I’m saying.”
“Sure I am.” Nick took another swig of coffee and hoped he hadn’t missed anything important. “You bet.”
“So it’s settled then.”
“Mmm.” Nick looked hopefully over the rim of his mug.
Cody grinned happily and Nick’s heart sank. He knew that grin. That grin meant he’d missed something important.
“What time d’you wanna leave, Nick?”
---
After the crash but before everything had gone to hell, Nick couldn’t go up in the Mimi. He’d been grounded, doctor’s orders, and Cody had stuck close, making sure.
Nick had gotten out of the hospital and come home to a world that no longer made sense, no matter how hard Cody tried. It wasn’t just the lack of flying, even though that had come with its own set of hardships.
Each weekend he’d gone out to the Mimi’s helipad and given her the once-over. He’d given her rotors a quick spin and checked her for sea-rust and bad joins, fired her up and listened to her cough and complain her way back to life, hearing in every misfire, every ping and shudder, her demand to know why they weren’t taking to the sky, why they weren’t headed up and out over the ocean, just the two of them, high above the water. And for the longest time, Nick didn’t have an answer. He just sat in the cockpit, eyes closed, feeling a hurt he’d never imagined possible.
And Cody’d sat right there next to him, patiently waiting.
---
The two of them had an oceanfront cottage up in Half Moon Bay. Small by neighborhood standards but still comfortable and worth more than Beverly could’ve imagined her inheritance could earn. The Mimi’s slip was right outside. It was this new thing, an “airpark”: a bunch of retired flyboys got together and went in on a runway, either side lined with houses inhabited by restless men and long-suffering women.
Or in Beverly’s case, two women who hadn’t known how happy they could be together until they ran into the Riptide Detective Agency.
Nick had known from the start, of course. First of all, he hadn’t felt the least threatened by Beverly. That was clue number one. She’d flung herself hopefully at Cody and he’d run in the opposite direction with a speed even Nick didn’t know he possessed. Mainly Nick just sat back and enjoyed watching the running. After the case had wrapped up and Cody had let Beverly down as gently as possible, she’d stayed an improbable but welcome part of their lives. Every so often she’d call up and the three of them would go to lunch, Nick sitting back in his chair and marveling at how giggly Cody could be. It was easy and fun and good. But Nick saw the worn shadows at the corners of Beverly’s eyes, and one day while the three of them were at Straightaways, he’d gotten to thinking. Shortly after that, he did the unthinkable: he suggested to Cody that the two of them attend a party.
“You’re sick,” Cody had answered. “How come you didn’t say anything before now? How long have you been sick?”
“I’m not sick, I’m just, you know, in the mood for a party.”
“Uh huh. Is it food poisoning? I thought that sushi we had at Ikebana’s tasted funny.”
“It’s not food poisoning.” Nick kept his thoughts on eating raw fish to himself. “Maybe I just feel like, you know, being social.”
“Being social.”
“Yeah.”
“That’s great, Nick, it really is, because I’ve been feeling like taking flying lessons.”
“Will you be serious?”
“Nick, I’ve only known you to suggest going to a party on two occasions. One, in Saigon when you knew that guy Bernwald would be down at the Purple Jade and you wanted to get back at him for calling you a jumped-up air-courier.”
“Bernwald was an asshole, Cody, and you gotta admit, he had it coming.”
“And the other time was when Joanna got...confused....” The words mashed cauliflower hung unspoken between them. “And you decided to set her up with that banker from Milwaukee.”
Nick very carefully said nothing. It was a new tactic he’d been trying out with Cody, in the hopes of a more peaceful life.
“That’s it, isn’t it? You’re trying to set someone up. Who? Murray? No no, that can’t be it, he’s back with Gloria.”
A whole lot of things hung unspoken in the air between them before Cody continued.
“Wait a minute, I’ve got it. It’s Dale, isn’t it? Dale, down at Pacific Dive. You’re trying to get him back together with his wife.”
Nick eyed his partner narrowly. “Dale’s wife cheated on him with the Clippers starting line-up. Give me some credit, Cody. Dale can do a helluva lot better.”
Cody frowned in confusion. “Does Dale know he’s going to the party? And who are you setting him up with? All the girls we know are either married, engaged, going steady or...”
Or was right. Nick explained his plan. Cody listened and grew increasingly excited.
When Nick was finished, Cody slapped him on the shoulder. “That’s a great plan, Nick! I can’t think of two people who’d be better together!”
“I can.” Nick looked at Cody knowingly.
“Two other people, you big jerk. Now, there’s just one thing, Nick.”
“What’s that, man?”
“What are you gonna wear?”
Nick had let his head fall to his chest, then resigned himself to a long afternoon spent at Montgomery Ward.
---
Their plan had gone off perfectly.
“Sayonara, Summer” was a paradoxically Orient-themed end-of-season mixer, Straightaways putting on a show as Southern California ushered in the winter. Winter paradoxically defined here to Nick as October. Hell, in Chicago everyone would still be in short-sleeves for another two months. But King Harbor was most assuredly not Chicago.
Cody had been perfect. He’d talked up the party to Beverly non-stop, luring her with promises of a mariachi band direct from Sonora and a sunset cruise around the harbor. Although if Nick’s plan came to fruition, a cruise would be the last thing on Beverly’s mind.
“Nick. Great to see you. Really. Great.”
Nick grasped Denise’s out-stretched hand firmly, pumping up and down. She looked fantastic. Beyond fantastic. Clad in a low-cut silk slip-dress she was a knockout and Nick noted more than a few heads surreptitiously turned to take in her every move. “How’s Baxter?” Baxter Bernard, the reclusive billionaire in charge of Baxter Aviation, had passed on eighteen months previous. Nick was asking about the Baxtercraft 3500, an experimental prototype helicopter Bernard had left Denise in charge of developing.
“A little shaky in the back-end still but getting stronger every day. I’ll let him know you asked. He’ll be thrilled.”
“I’m telling you, Baxter needs a heavier blade in the rear rotor. There’s such a thing as too light, you know?”
“So you keep saying. Speaking of heavy old girls, how’s the Mimi?”
“Never better.” Nick spoke the truth; he and Cody had spent the previous weekend getting the Mimi ready for her FAA exam. “She sends her love.”
“She’s a helluva bird, Nick. A one-of-a-kind. You still know that, right?”
Nick, busy seeking out Cody across the crowded room, answered off-handly. “That she is. Look there’s someone--”
“And you still won’t sell her? Baxter would love a companion.”
Nick cracked up. “Listen. The Mimi’s a lot of things, but I doubt she can keep up with that bratty little sparrow. Especially once you get him a new rear rotor.”
Denise made a rude noise. Paradoxically, this functioned as a cue for several well-dressed young men to separate from the party herd and stalk toward her like lions scenting particularly succulent prey. Nick gave the two closest his best disapproving eyebrow. It did the trick; the youngsters slipped disappointedly back into the throng, tails between their legs, seeking easier prey. Nick went back to scanning the crowd for Cody.
“Nick? Did you hear me?”
“Of course I heard you. I’m still not selling. The Mimi’s mine. We’re like this.” He held up two crossed fingers.
Denise raised an eyebrow and gave Nick her version of a petulant pout. On a lesser man, Nick figured, it would necessitate a costume change. “What?”
“I was asking after Cody. You know, your better half?”
“Never better.” At least ‘til I get my hands on him. “We’re still...”
Denise held up two crossed fingers. “Like this?”
Nick relaxed. “Exactly.”
Over Denise’s shoulder, Cody was pushing his way insistently through the crowd, towing someone in his wake. He cut a fine figure in his tan suit and Nick’s brain helpfully detailed all the various ways that suit could be shoved aside, sundered or debauched, leaving Cody in various stages of accessible undress. “Hey,” Nick said as Cody reached his side. “There you are.”
“Here I am,” Cody agreed cheerfully. He turned a mega-watt smile on Denise. “Hi.”
She leaned forward and kissed each of his cheeks in succession. “Hi Cody. I’m still batting for the visiting team. You can relax.”
“Ah.” Cody said. He pulled a smaller figure forward from where she’d been hiding behind his back. “Well, Denise, I’d like to introduce Beverly. She’s a friend of Nick and mine.”
At that point, Nick recalled, there was A Moment. It couldn’t have been more obvious two people had made a connection if Cupid himself had stood on the refreshments table and peed in the punch.
Beverly turned three shades of pink and silently extended a small hand to Denise. Denise took it in both of her own, flushing prettily along her collarbone. “Beverly. It’s...a pleasure.”
Beverly made a noise like a squeak. Nick was fairly sure it was only Denise’s touch that was keeping Beverly from shooting straight up into the air. “Um.”
“I love your dress. It’s so...” Denise gave Beverly an appraising, approving look.
Beverly definitely squeaked that time.
Cody grinned and Nick gave him the Stay Quiet eyebrow. Cody’s grin turned aggrieved. Nick could almost taste how bad he’d pay for that later.
“It’s so kind of you to say so...Denise,” Beverly said. It sounded like she was testing the way Denise’s name fit in her mouth, rolling it around, thinking about what it would be like to taste it on her tongue. “I don’t often wear cocktail dresses. I mean, I wear other things, it’s not like I run around always...” Beverly blushed.
Denise grinned.
“Oh my,” Beverly continued. “I mean--”
“Let’s continue our conversation on the patio,” Denise suggested. She already had a delicate hand on Beverly’s shoulders. “I have a little difficulty with my hearing.”
“Oh! You too? Sometimes I swear I must have been in an explosion I just don’t remember. That’s the only explanation for my hearing. I mean, not usually, but in gatherings like this. There’s just so many people and they all want to talk at the same time. It’s hardly conducive to getting to know someone. Not like I’d want to know someone. You have to be careful, you know...” Beverly looked eagerly up at Denise as the statuesque blonde guided her deftly toward the open French doors.
Meanwhile, Nick drew Cody to his side, one hand brushing the small of his back.
“Think it’ll work?” Cody asked softly.
Nick hoped he meant Denise and Beverly, although from what he could see as the two of them headed out onto the patio, the answer was a forgone conclusion. Denise looked happy and relaxed and pleased while Beverly investigated all the shades of pink a person could turn without having a stroke. Nick looked at Cody, at the handsome blond by his side with the cleft chin and virile mustache. “Yeah, Cody. I think it just might.”
Cody grinned and laid a hand on Nick’s shoulder, squeezing.
“C’mon,” Nick said. “Let’s get out of here.” They waved good-bye to Murray spilling punch at Gloria’s side and headed back to their slip.
Cody wandered around for the next two days wearing a stunned and happy almost glassy expression, unable to explain just what had happened to the suit he’d had on the night of Straightaway's party.
---
And now there the four of them were, twenty years on. Nick and Cody had each other and the Hightide, and Denise and Beverly had each other, Beverly’s fortune, and a glass-fronted cottage overlooking the ocean.
And they had the Mimi.
Cody guided the Hightide to the airpark’s guest pier, docking expertly. “You sure you’re okay with this, Nick?”
“Never better.” Nick peered through the windshield with trepidation. The last time he’d seen Denise he hadn’t been able to look her in the eye, preferring instead to throw the Mimi’s keys at her feet before turning tail and running in the opposite direction. Nick had done a lot of running during that period in his life. He rubbed urgently at his ear. “S’fine, Cody. Look--”
“I know: we don’t need to go see the Mimi. We don’t need to go see Beverly and Denise because they send us a Christmas card every year. But, here’s the thing.” Cody turned and held up an imperious finger.
Nick waited.
“The Mimi never sends us a holiday card.”
Nick rocked back on his heels. Ladies and gentlemen, the world according to Cody Allen. But after a couple decades, Nick had gotten good at identifying the things he shouldn’t say out loud. Instead he nodded. “If you say so, man.”
Cody shot Nick a dark look before darting outside and tying up at the pier. A figure separated from the tiny shack at the the head of the gangplank; obviously Cody had called ahead. Nick watched as Cody and Beverly embraced. then held each other at arms’ length, marveling. Nick didn’t have to get any closer to hear the excited giggling. Maybe, he thought, heading for the Hightide’s ladder, they really should be doing this more often.
---
“Nick!” Beverly scampered up on light feet and threw her arms around Nick’s waist, embracing his torso with gusto. “It’s been too long!”
Nick hugged her back gingerly. “That it has. How you feeling, Bev?”
Through holiday cards and Cody’s speciality, email, Nick had been kept apprised of Beverly’s battle with breast cancer, her subsequent mastectomy and Denise’s stolid refusal to stop upsetting the doctors throughout. “You keeping well?”
Beverly grinned through her thick glasses. “Never better. Oh, just look at you two.” She extended an arm and took Cody’s hand, pulling him near. “What a sight for sore eyes. I always said you two would make it. I always told Denise that. I just wanted to tell you two, too.”
Nick said nothing, preferring, as always, to simply look at Cody.
Cody grinned back and the two of them followed Beverly up the gangplank to her waiting car. Nick climbed into the backseat and held on tight, staring resolutely at the road ahead. Tiny timid Beverly gave Cody a run for his money in the lead-foot department and a couple times along the way, Nick was convinced they were headed back to the water by the short, sharp exploding way. When Beverly pulled to a stop in the driveway, Nick thanked his lucky stars and took Cody’s hand, letting himself be tugged out of the backseat and into the heart of Marin County.
“The place looks great, Bev,” Nick said. He wasn’t lying. “You guys get yourselves a couple gardeners?”
“Oh no, Nick, not at all,” Beverly answered. “I love making things grow, and the more I do it, the more Denise loves it. She really loves to see me happy,” she said, leading them in through a huge oak front door, to a terracotta-tiled entrance hall. A dazzling circular staircase of knotty pine led to the second floor on their right, and wide archways led to a sitting room on the right and dead ahead, a straight shot through to the back garden, plants peering lush and green and eager at the windows. “The happier she is, the happier I get. I do a lot of gardening.” This last was directed at Cody.
“You guys had the place redone? That whole staircase is new, right?”
Beverly glided over to Cody’s side and took his arm. Amazingly, Nick felt no jealousy whatsoever. “Denise put it in after I saw one like it in a magazine. I told her it just looked so chic, so cozy and, you know, polished, and the next thing I knew she’d taken the truck down to Home Depot and come back with a bed full of just the perfect wood. She had it built in a couple days, then we went to the city later and explained. Cody, did you want to see the top floor? There’s that balcony I sent pictures of. And the guest room.”
The two of them headed for the staircase, leaving Nick to marvel in their wake.
The staircase story sounded exactly like the Denise Nick knew. Or at least the Denise he’d known a dozen years ago, back before she became Beverly’s Denise.
Cody and Beverly disappeared into the recesses of the second floor, headed, no doubt, for the wide balcony overlooking the ocean at the back of the house. The two of them had a lot to talk about, Nick didn’t doubt. And for the first time in a long time, Nick let himself relax. He closed his eyes and breathed deep, smelling polished pine and spices, dried and sweet and fruity. Some type of potpourri, no doubt.
Opening his eyes, Nick looked around the deserted foyer, taking in the framed photos on the walls: Baxter and his namesake, next to a couple of other flybirds; Beverly standing beaming at the edge of a crowd of pale, anxious people who looked vaguely similar, Denise standing a little ways apart, wary; Beverly and Denise together on a sun-soaked beach, burning and tan and gleeful. Yes, Nick thought. This. Two people he and Cody both respected, both held dear, and they’d made a life together, carved it out of the hide of this cruel world. This was a good thing, Nick thought. That party, so long ago. Denise. She’d come, as he’d suspected, capitare a fagiolo-- the just-in-time and much-needed meal.
Suddenly, surrounded by all the totems of Beverly and Denise’s life together, Nick felt stifled, like he couldn’t breathe. He charged back out through the front door gasping, gulping down the mist-thick morning air, knees weak and trembling. Was this it? Was this what Cody had wanted, deep down inside? Was this what Nick hadn’t given him? The swank vacations, the rafts of children, was that what Nick had forgotten in his quest to just simply keep them together?
Stones crunched under Nick’s feet as he headed back toward the car, trying not to run, the ocean behind him. He’d done his best, God knows even when the chips were down he’d done his best by Cody.
When he’d first woken from the crash, there was only pain. A pain so vast Nick couldn’t see a way around it. It filled the sky and blotted out the sun until there was nothing left. Nothing save the small, different feeling of Cody’s hand in his. As drugged out as he was, Nick shouldn’t’ve been able to tell Cody’s hand from a hole in the ground but despite the ragged, coursing pain, he’d known. The feel of Cody’s fingers interlaced with his own was like nothing else on earth, and as the pain ebbed and gnawed at him, Nick retreated to the safety of that small connection, his hand and Cody’s. Twined. Grasping. Eternal.
Nick breathed deep, bent double in the driveway, hands on his knees.
So many things were tiger traps these days, it was hard to know where was safe to let his thoughts go rambling. Nick raised his gaze to the sky. Still, one thing, his and his alone. He closed his eyes, picturing Cody in his mind. Cheerful, teasing, sweet and unsure Cody.
His Cody. Now and forever.
Nick rode that thought along its updrafts, diving and swooping through the memories until he was well enough to open his eyes.
He straightened up and blinked back the morning, then froze, disbelieving. The thin wiry arms of a rotor peeked over the tops of the dark green cypress that clung to the cliffs above the ocean.
Nick would’ve known those arms anywhere, that rotor.
Mimi.
Resigned, Nick headed directly for her across the manicured lawn and through the trees.
---
Looking back, Nick realized there was nothing that could’ve prepared him for the shock of seeing her again.
She was his, would always be his. And yet, somehow she was different.
“Mimi.” Her name came unbidden to his lips. It’d been so long since he’d called to her, so long since he’d guided her into the sky.
She looked well. She was pearl gray now, metallic and reflecting all the colors of the weak sun at Nick’s back. But she was proud, he could tell even from the ground. He crooked his head, taking in her details.
His girl. His beautiful girl, no longer pink but blue, crouched in the background. She looked so good it hurt. She looked not just like someone loved her, but like someone took her out on a regular basis, putting her through her paces, stretching her wings, making her feel the burn and stay lean into her old age.
“Nick. Bev said you two would be stopping by.” Denise dropped from Mimi’s belly, a live birth in action. Nick didn’t trust his voice at first, but one look in her eyes and he knew she saw his pain, his questions. “Wanna go up?”
Nick made himself shake his head. “I can’t. My...” He gestured to his ears and Denise nodded.
“Cody sent us email. Your ears. The crash. Brutal, man. I could’ve told you about those Bells.”
Nick roiled. “Look lady, no one needs to tell me about any Bells. Russian-made tin cans, what are you kidding me? They had Bad Idea written all over them.”
“But...”
Nick waved her questions away. “How is she?”
“She’s a fine old lady. A little fussy but well worth the extra effort. I used to--” Nick heard her swallow hard. “When it was bad, the chemo, I used to carry Bev out here and put her in a cot in the hold. It was the last thing the doctors wanted but at that point whatever those ass-clowns told me was forbidden, I did. I took them out over the ocean, let Bev lie there with the headphones on, told her everything I saw, everything the wind told me. I made her go out day after day, Nick.”
“And?”
“Four years of remission, knock on wood.” Denise rapped her knuckles on the Mimi’s flanks, a hollow, aching clang. “Five next Saturday. I’m planning to take her up to Point Reyes, to watch the sea lions. She loves them. She--” Denise’s voice broke. She scrubbed a hand over her nose and mouth, sniffing loudly, pulling it together. “I suppose you were asking about the Mimi. Right?”
Nick looked up at the steps leading to the Mimi’s cockpit. He could feel the steel under his feet, solid and welcoming.
“She looks good,” he said eventually. “She looks well, like someone’s taking care of her.”
A gleam came to Denise’s eyes. “I’m trying. I’ll--” Her voice broke again. “I’ll try ‘til the day I die.”
Nick grasped her shoulder and nodded, the words stuck in his throat. He heard footsteps behind him, the light excited chatter of birds, then Denise’s gaze lifted. “She’s all gassed up, love. You say the word and we’re gone.”
Heart in his throat, Nick let the chatter fall away. He remembered--
“Mister Ryder,” the doctor began.
“Lieutenant Ryder,” Cody snapped, and that was how Nick knew he was in a military hospital. Cody would never have spoken to a civilian like that.
“Lieutenant Ryder,” the doctor began again, “I’m going to have to ask you to refrain from all air-bound activity for a period not less than six months or not to exceed the intervening period between this interview and any successive interview administered by myself or a peer.”
Nick made a noise.
“He says you can’t fly, Nick,” Cody said brokenly. “Not for six months, or at least not until they say you can. Hey,” Cody leaned in close; Nick knew this because his sense of Cody got warmer and he felt the skin that was not his own close the distance between them. “You know they’re covering their asses, Nick. They’ve gotta say this. But you’ll be back in the sky before you know it.” Cody squeezed Nick’s hand and Nick had the sense that if the doctor hadn’t been there, Cody would’ve sealed the promise with a kiss. Nick tried his hardest to squeeze back.
There was jargon then, the doctor droning on about side effects and follow-up treatments and Nick heard Cody lying, promising visits Nick knew Cody wouldn’t keep him to. He couldn’t have loved Cody more than he did just then, hearing the undertone in Cody’s voice that he knew was just for him. Nick clung to that undertone, made of it a blanket to wrap himself in before the sedatives returned, terrifying and implacable.
Memory chased Nick back to the present, to where he stood at the foot of a foreign driveway, feeling the thrum of Mimi’s rotors and knowing that she obeyed a different master now. He’d given her away like a shy but eager bride.
Denise climbed down out of the pilot’s seat and jogged across the helipad. Nick turned in time to see her draw Beverly close, like a treasure someone had tried to take.
“Don’t say I didn’t offer,” Denise told Beverly.
Beverly beamed. “You always offer. Besides, we can go tomorrow, and the next day if you like. But today we have guests!”
Nick caught Denise’s eye and they shared a secret, baleful moment. Nick didn’t blame her one bit. If he could’ve he’d’ve followed Denise into the Mimi’s cockpit and taken to the sky. The weather was perfect for a short trip up the coast or down, out over the water or inland, just to annoy the FAA controllers.
But he couldn’t, so instead Nick followed Cody and Beverly back toward the house, Denise just a few steps behind.
---
There were times Nick still couldn’t believe the crash was real. After all, the weather had been perfect.
They were still in King Harbor then, still on-board the Riptide but after Murray had left, spending more and more time on land at Roboztics. But no matter how successful his start-up got, Murray still kept his hand in with government grants, his brain still in demand. They’d needed a two-point survey, surface-to-air, that was what Nick remembered. That and the deadline. For some reason it had to be within those three days, some artificial deadline, and with Mimi’s pistons lying in pieces in a hangar in Reseda, the choice had been made for him: a rent-a-chopper from Derek’s. They had Bells.
After that, the day came back in snatches: going up, no problem, miles of visibility and an up-draft you could nearly chew. The nagging ticking under Nick’s feet an afterthought, an intrusion on a sunny, perfect day on the California coast. Relaying coordinates to Cody, chugging along in the Riptide under him, pair after pair, science in action. Then the faltering motor and the smoke, the engine giving a faint apologetic cough; a belch of black, oily smoke, then just...falling...spiraling toward the earth...
“Nick.”
Nick fell back to earth in Marin, back to the sitting-room of Beverly and Denise’s house, Cody at his side, one hand on his arm, squeezing softly. Nick blinked, reorienting.
“You want some coffee, Nick?” Cody put the mug in his hands, fingers brushing gently, a promise to cover for him and more, a promise to get them out of there and gone as soon as he could.
Nick looked thanks at Cody and then his hosts, cradling the heat in his hands. Suddenly the Mimi at his back felt oppressive somehow, as if her shadow had weight, as if he could feel her through the walls.
“So like I was saying,” Beverly continued, “our nephews, the twins you know, they’re thinking about applying to La Jolla. It’s hard to imagine they could be old enough for college, but then again...” She shrugged delicately and Denise smiled at her, a knowing smile, a smile of understanding. “We’re all getting older, I guess.”
“Better than the alternative,” Denise said quietly. Beverly and Cody laughed and Nick kept right on fighting the urge to turn and look out the window, craning to catch a glimpse of the Mimi’s rotors. 1998. That was when the crash had been, and after it Nick had spent a year in the hell of his own devising, pretending nothing was wrong while around him and his broken inner ears, the Riptide spun like a top. 1999 had been a hell of Cody’s devising, but Nick had been complicit in that too, agreeing to try life in a white stucco box so far from the shore you couldn’t even hear the ocean over the noise of the 5.
“--I mean, the only way out is through, you know?”
Cody nodded enthusiastically at Bev but his knee pressed against Nick’s with a certain weight, a certain pressure that let Nick know Cody was ready anytime he was.
“We might think we’d rather not go through the things we have to, but eventually that’s what makes us who we are. Take Denise’s brother, for example.”
Denise made a noise in her throat as if hoping someone would in fact, take her brother. Nick felt the beginnings of a grin.
“--But according to his P.O. -- that’s parole officer, Cody -- he’s doing great. Sticking to the terms of his release, showing up for work every day on time, never missing an appointment. Maybe five years in Corcoran was the only way for him. That happens some times, you know?”
Cody nodded and took Beverly’s hand. No one mentioned the Gordons and the Dents and what the way through was like for them. Nick scrubbed a hand over his face, remembering. It was so long ago, and Cody had gotten so bent out of shape about the Riptide, but then again, Nick had found several interesting ways to bend him back.
---
Nick returned to the present, to Beverly and Denise’s comfortable, organized life and their family photos and their sitting room. It was hard to believe the four of them had known each other twenty years. It was hard to believe the Mimi was right outside, perching, pearl-blue on her helipad as if she’d never flown kamikaze all those years back when.
Denise coughed decorously and, as if it was catching, Cody gathered himself and looked over at Nick. Outside, the sun was starting to sink down toward the tops of the live oaks and cypress that separated house and helipad. They can’t even see her, Nick thought. They can’t even see her from their house.
Cody reached over and squeezed Nick’s knee and Nick heard Cody’s voice, as if it lived in his brain: You couldn’t see her from Slip 7 either, so settle down. We’re almost done here.
Nick nodded and Cody returned his attention to Beverly, taking her hands and exclaiming over how well she looked. Nick and Denise regarded each other a little warily over the remains of the tea.
“She treatin’ you well?” Nick asked.
Denise shook her head. “She’s terrible. First hint of fog and she throws a piston. Just drops it right there on the ground, like she’s just looking for an excuse not to get out of bed.”
“The pistons on the Choctaws kinda do that. They’re notorious.”
“They’re a pain in my ass, is what they are.”
Nick smirked. “And the rest of the time, the clear days?”
“Still flies like a dream. We take her out to look for sea lions all the time. In fact, we’re going out tonight, if the weather holds.” For a moment, Denise looked uncomfortable. “Nick,” she said softly. “You ever sorry you gave her up? You know, even if you didn’t have the...” Denise gestured.
“Every fucking day.”
Denise snorted. “Thought you’d say that. I can’t imagine what it’s like.”
“No, you can’t.” Nick fought hard to stay in control, not to glare or gnash or rail. Not to elaborate on the bald obviousness of Denise’s statement. Not being able to fly was like he imagined missing a limb must be: hard to believe, impossible to get used to and the ache was a constant reminder of the loss.
Cody’s hand returned to Nick’s knee, squeezing.
“Speaking of which,” Denise leaned forward, putting a hand on Beverly’s arm.
Beverly started in her direction. “Oh! Has it been that long already? We were planning to take the Mimi out to look for sea lions. It’s still early for them to be back up here, but we keep watch for NOAA.” She pronounced it No-ah. “I thought we’d have enough time before-- I mean that you two would be-- you know. Oh...” She appealed to Denise.
“We’ve gotta go,” Denise said coolly. “Cody, if you’d like to go with...”
“Thank you but no.” Cody’s grip was like iron on Nick’s knee. “I appreciate the offer but those days are long past. He rose and looked to Nick to do likewise. “We have a different life now.”
And that’s when it hit Nick; they did, they had a different life from when they were playing P.I.s down in Redondo. They were older and wiser and more cautious. For a long time, Nick had thought this a bad thing, but a glimpse at Cody’s medic-alert bracelet made him think otherwise.
He still refused to remember Cody’s heart attack, even though he knew his chatterbox partner had filled them in. It still hurt when Nick thought about it, people taking Cody away from him, behind doors he couldn’t push past, up to remote floors he had no standing on. He’d never asked, but it struck him now that Cody had to have experienced something similar during the crash. There was no formal paperwork between them, no rings, nothing tangible to show that he was Cody’s, just as sure as if it had been inked across his forehead.
Nick reached across and boldly took Cody’s hand. He nodded at their hosts. “We’re good. But you two go on ahead.”
---
Outside, the fog was starting to gather in invisible pockets just above the ground. Nick could feel it in his bad shoulder and his neck and back. He could hear it too, in the way the Mimi coughed and spluttered as Denise coaxed her awake.
The Mimi. His best girl, right up until he gave her away. Now she had her own life, and Nick had Cody. The world kept turning, just like the big chopper’s rotors. A gentle wash swept over Nick, cold and keen and soft. He stood and watched as Denise donned her headphones and adjusted the gyroscope; it had a tendency to stick at 15 degrees and Denise, frowning, gave the instrument panel a practiced thump with her fist. Nick grinned.
“Bye, Cody! Bye, Nick! It was so good of you to come! You must come back!” Beverly had to shout to be heard over the Mimi and she did.
Cody took Nick’s hand, slipping behind him, into place like a shadow. Nick felt Cody nod.
The two women waved; Denise still fierce and taut in her jumpsuit, aging the way some women do age, growing lean and winnowed by the passing of time. And Beverly, ever smaller, fuller and rounder and still unexpectedly adorable in a succession of flowered gingham dresses. Once theirs and then, when they gave her away, Denise’s.
Beverly sketched an excited wave at Cody. “Sea lions, Cody!”
Nick turned his head in time to see Cody give her thumbs up.
Beverly managed to clutch her skirts around her as she climbed up through the open cargo door, before being swallowed by the cockpit. Denise waved. She shouted something Mimi stole with the wash from her rotors.
Nick raised his hand, offering camaraderie and peace. Cody pressed against his back, an arm around his waist.
Those first few months Nick had returned to the Riptide, after, were the worst months of his life. Every step he took betrayed him, the world shaking and shifting around him. He’d tried so hard, for Cody’s sake, to pretend everything was fine, that this was the new okay, the post-crash okay. Nick could adjust, for Cody’s sake. He always had.
But the more he’d tried, the more he saw in Cody’s eyes that he’d failed. The more he saw pity and sorrow in the eyes he loved so well. The eyes he lived to make light up.
Then came the arguments, the shouting, the demands. Nick wanted so much to be the man Cody needed, the one who could live broken on the water. But the truth had a funny way of getting out.
But that was then.
This was now. And now was an airpark in Half Moon Bay, seventy miles up the coast from their home marina and the two of them standing firmly on the ground, watching as Mimi rose into the sky, wearing her new blue paint and carrying two of the finest people Nick had ever known. The sea lions, at Point Reyes. They wouldn’t wait forever.
And after all, a promise was not to be taken lightly.
Nick stood with his feet firmly anchored on the ground and Cody at his back. Waving, he watched the Mimi rise into the sky, getting smaller and farther away until she was just a speck, her wingbeats carried away by the wind.
Denise was right, Nick thought: she’s a helluva bird.
Nick stood there with Cody’s hand on his shoulder long after the Mimi faded from view. Cody stood with him, patient and waiting and perfect.
She’s a helluva bird, Nick.
Nick nodded and turned his face from the sky. He ran a hand down Cody’s back, silently appreciating everything Cody was to him. Everything they’d been through together. He couldn’t fly anymore, but he could still love the hell out of Cody Allen.
“Hey Nick.” Cody had that playful gleam in his eye.
“Yeah?”
Cody looked around the driveway theatrically. “How d’you suppose we’re getting back to the boat?”
Nick frowned around at the deserted driveway, then the surrealness of the situation hit home. Laughing, he slung an arm around Cody’s shoulders and squeezed. “C’mon, man. Can’t be more than a mile or so and you know what the doctor said about going for walks.”
“I’m not sure this is what he had in mind, buddy.”
Nick squeezed Cody’s shoulder again in answer, then the two of them headed down the driveway and back along the road to the harbor, the soft woof of the Mimi’s rotors carried in the opposite direction by the twilight breeze.
Rating: PG
Summary: Nick and Cody take time out to visit some old friends and the helicopter they have in their safekeeping.
The two of them took their coffee out onto the deck of the Hightide, the better to enjoy a morning that had dawned cool but heated quickly, a powerful sun burning off the sea mist and leaving buttery warmth in its wake.
Cody sank happily onto the white leather banquette at the stern and accepted the whale mug full of decaf Nick gave him. Overhead, a gull screed at the unseasonable late-fall weather, then took its complaints out over the ocean. Nick watched it fly, feeling a twinge of envy. Mornings like these, he wished he still had wings. Wished the crash hadn't broken him, hadn't fucked up three years of his life and nearly cost him the other most perfect thing in this world.
"Penny for your thoughts." Cody sipped his coffee delicately.
Nick blew on his own coffee. "S'nice out. We should do this more often."
"Liar. You're thinking about the Mimi."
Nick didn't bother trying to deny it. He'd long since given up hiding things from Cody. Part of the deal they'd made with one another, forty years and half a world away, was that life was too short to pretend. They’d both broken the deal a time or two when they were young and stupid, but not now. Not for a long time now. He shrugged. “She’s kinda hard to forget, you know?”
“So let’s go see her.”
Nick froze, whale mug half way to his mouth. He raised a shoulder in question and shook his head.
“Seems silly, Nick. We know exactly where she is and we know who has her, she’s not that far away. We should pay her a visit. Take the Hightide up the coast, out for a run.”
“Oh. Is that what we should do, Cody? Why didn’t you just say you wanted to take the boat out?”
Cody nettled. It was much harder to nettle since he’d lost the mustache, but somehow Cody pulled it off. “It was just a suggestion.”
Nick took a swig of hot, bitter coffee, let it blaze a trail down his throat. “No.”
“Nick!” It came out as a yip and Nick marveled that a sixty-three-year-old man could make a noise like that and still maintain his dignity. Then again, Cody’d had a lot of practice in the yipping department.
“--And you’re not even listening to a word I’m saying.”
“Sure I am.” Nick took another swig of coffee and hoped he hadn’t missed anything important. “You bet.”
“So it’s settled then.”
“Mmm.” Nick looked hopefully over the rim of his mug.
Cody grinned happily and Nick’s heart sank. He knew that grin. That grin meant he’d missed something important.
“What time d’you wanna leave, Nick?”
---
After the crash but before everything had gone to hell, Nick couldn’t go up in the Mimi. He’d been grounded, doctor’s orders, and Cody had stuck close, making sure.
Nick had gotten out of the hospital and come home to a world that no longer made sense, no matter how hard Cody tried. It wasn’t just the lack of flying, even though that had come with its own set of hardships.
Each weekend he’d gone out to the Mimi’s helipad and given her the once-over. He’d given her rotors a quick spin and checked her for sea-rust and bad joins, fired her up and listened to her cough and complain her way back to life, hearing in every misfire, every ping and shudder, her demand to know why they weren’t taking to the sky, why they weren’t headed up and out over the ocean, just the two of them, high above the water. And for the longest time, Nick didn’t have an answer. He just sat in the cockpit, eyes closed, feeling a hurt he’d never imagined possible.
And Cody’d sat right there next to him, patiently waiting.
---
The two of them had an oceanfront cottage up in Half Moon Bay. Small by neighborhood standards but still comfortable and worth more than Beverly could’ve imagined her inheritance could earn. The Mimi’s slip was right outside. It was this new thing, an “airpark”: a bunch of retired flyboys got together and went in on a runway, either side lined with houses inhabited by restless men and long-suffering women.
Or in Beverly’s case, two women who hadn’t known how happy they could be together until they ran into the Riptide Detective Agency.
Nick had known from the start, of course. First of all, he hadn’t felt the least threatened by Beverly. That was clue number one. She’d flung herself hopefully at Cody and he’d run in the opposite direction with a speed even Nick didn’t know he possessed. Mainly Nick just sat back and enjoyed watching the running. After the case had wrapped up and Cody had let Beverly down as gently as possible, she’d stayed an improbable but welcome part of their lives. Every so often she’d call up and the three of them would go to lunch, Nick sitting back in his chair and marveling at how giggly Cody could be. It was easy and fun and good. But Nick saw the worn shadows at the corners of Beverly’s eyes, and one day while the three of them were at Straightaways, he’d gotten to thinking. Shortly after that, he did the unthinkable: he suggested to Cody that the two of them attend a party.
“You’re sick,” Cody had answered. “How come you didn’t say anything before now? How long have you been sick?”
“I’m not sick, I’m just, you know, in the mood for a party.”
“Uh huh. Is it food poisoning? I thought that sushi we had at Ikebana’s tasted funny.”
“It’s not food poisoning.” Nick kept his thoughts on eating raw fish to himself. “Maybe I just feel like, you know, being social.”
“Being social.”
“Yeah.”
“That’s great, Nick, it really is, because I’ve been feeling like taking flying lessons.”
“Will you be serious?”
“Nick, I’ve only known you to suggest going to a party on two occasions. One, in Saigon when you knew that guy Bernwald would be down at the Purple Jade and you wanted to get back at him for calling you a jumped-up air-courier.”
“Bernwald was an asshole, Cody, and you gotta admit, he had it coming.”
“And the other time was when Joanna got...confused....” The words mashed cauliflower hung unspoken between them. “And you decided to set her up with that banker from Milwaukee.”
Nick very carefully said nothing. It was a new tactic he’d been trying out with Cody, in the hopes of a more peaceful life.
“That’s it, isn’t it? You’re trying to set someone up. Who? Murray? No no, that can’t be it, he’s back with Gloria.”
A whole lot of things hung unspoken in the air between them before Cody continued.
“Wait a minute, I’ve got it. It’s Dale, isn’t it? Dale, down at Pacific Dive. You’re trying to get him back together with his wife.”
Nick eyed his partner narrowly. “Dale’s wife cheated on him with the Clippers starting line-up. Give me some credit, Cody. Dale can do a helluva lot better.”
Cody frowned in confusion. “Does Dale know he’s going to the party? And who are you setting him up with? All the girls we know are either married, engaged, going steady or...”
Or was right. Nick explained his plan. Cody listened and grew increasingly excited.
When Nick was finished, Cody slapped him on the shoulder. “That’s a great plan, Nick! I can’t think of two people who’d be better together!”
“I can.” Nick looked at Cody knowingly.
“Two other people, you big jerk. Now, there’s just one thing, Nick.”
“What’s that, man?”
“What are you gonna wear?”
Nick had let his head fall to his chest, then resigned himself to a long afternoon spent at Montgomery Ward.
---
Their plan had gone off perfectly.
“Sayonara, Summer” was a paradoxically Orient-themed end-of-season mixer, Straightaways putting on a show as Southern California ushered in the winter. Winter paradoxically defined here to Nick as October. Hell, in Chicago everyone would still be in short-sleeves for another two months. But King Harbor was most assuredly not Chicago.
Cody had been perfect. He’d talked up the party to Beverly non-stop, luring her with promises of a mariachi band direct from Sonora and a sunset cruise around the harbor. Although if Nick’s plan came to fruition, a cruise would be the last thing on Beverly’s mind.
“Nick. Great to see you. Really. Great.”
Nick grasped Denise’s out-stretched hand firmly, pumping up and down. She looked fantastic. Beyond fantastic. Clad in a low-cut silk slip-dress she was a knockout and Nick noted more than a few heads surreptitiously turned to take in her every move. “How’s Baxter?” Baxter Bernard, the reclusive billionaire in charge of Baxter Aviation, had passed on eighteen months previous. Nick was asking about the Baxtercraft 3500, an experimental prototype helicopter Bernard had left Denise in charge of developing.
“A little shaky in the back-end still but getting stronger every day. I’ll let him know you asked. He’ll be thrilled.”
“I’m telling you, Baxter needs a heavier blade in the rear rotor. There’s such a thing as too light, you know?”
“So you keep saying. Speaking of heavy old girls, how’s the Mimi?”
“Never better.” Nick spoke the truth; he and Cody had spent the previous weekend getting the Mimi ready for her FAA exam. “She sends her love.”
“She’s a helluva bird, Nick. A one-of-a-kind. You still know that, right?”
Nick, busy seeking out Cody across the crowded room, answered off-handly. “That she is. Look there’s someone--”
“And you still won’t sell her? Baxter would love a companion.”
Nick cracked up. “Listen. The Mimi’s a lot of things, but I doubt she can keep up with that bratty little sparrow. Especially once you get him a new rear rotor.”
Denise made a rude noise. Paradoxically, this functioned as a cue for several well-dressed young men to separate from the party herd and stalk toward her like lions scenting particularly succulent prey. Nick gave the two closest his best disapproving eyebrow. It did the trick; the youngsters slipped disappointedly back into the throng, tails between their legs, seeking easier prey. Nick went back to scanning the crowd for Cody.
“Nick? Did you hear me?”
“Of course I heard you. I’m still not selling. The Mimi’s mine. We’re like this.” He held up two crossed fingers.
Denise raised an eyebrow and gave Nick her version of a petulant pout. On a lesser man, Nick figured, it would necessitate a costume change. “What?”
“I was asking after Cody. You know, your better half?”
“Never better.” At least ‘til I get my hands on him. “We’re still...”
Denise held up two crossed fingers. “Like this?”
Nick relaxed. “Exactly.”
Over Denise’s shoulder, Cody was pushing his way insistently through the crowd, towing someone in his wake. He cut a fine figure in his tan suit and Nick’s brain helpfully detailed all the various ways that suit could be shoved aside, sundered or debauched, leaving Cody in various stages of accessible undress. “Hey,” Nick said as Cody reached his side. “There you are.”
“Here I am,” Cody agreed cheerfully. He turned a mega-watt smile on Denise. “Hi.”
She leaned forward and kissed each of his cheeks in succession. “Hi Cody. I’m still batting for the visiting team. You can relax.”
“Ah.” Cody said. He pulled a smaller figure forward from where she’d been hiding behind his back. “Well, Denise, I’d like to introduce Beverly. She’s a friend of Nick and mine.”
At that point, Nick recalled, there was A Moment. It couldn’t have been more obvious two people had made a connection if Cupid himself had stood on the refreshments table and peed in the punch.
Beverly turned three shades of pink and silently extended a small hand to Denise. Denise took it in both of her own, flushing prettily along her collarbone. “Beverly. It’s...a pleasure.”
Beverly made a noise like a squeak. Nick was fairly sure it was only Denise’s touch that was keeping Beverly from shooting straight up into the air. “Um.”
“I love your dress. It’s so...” Denise gave Beverly an appraising, approving look.
Beverly definitely squeaked that time.
Cody grinned and Nick gave him the Stay Quiet eyebrow. Cody’s grin turned aggrieved. Nick could almost taste how bad he’d pay for that later.
“It’s so kind of you to say so...Denise,” Beverly said. It sounded like she was testing the way Denise’s name fit in her mouth, rolling it around, thinking about what it would be like to taste it on her tongue. “I don’t often wear cocktail dresses. I mean, I wear other things, it’s not like I run around always...” Beverly blushed.
Denise grinned.
“Oh my,” Beverly continued. “I mean--”
“Let’s continue our conversation on the patio,” Denise suggested. She already had a delicate hand on Beverly’s shoulders. “I have a little difficulty with my hearing.”
“Oh! You too? Sometimes I swear I must have been in an explosion I just don’t remember. That’s the only explanation for my hearing. I mean, not usually, but in gatherings like this. There’s just so many people and they all want to talk at the same time. It’s hardly conducive to getting to know someone. Not like I’d want to know someone. You have to be careful, you know...” Beverly looked eagerly up at Denise as the statuesque blonde guided her deftly toward the open French doors.
Meanwhile, Nick drew Cody to his side, one hand brushing the small of his back.
“Think it’ll work?” Cody asked softly.
Nick hoped he meant Denise and Beverly, although from what he could see as the two of them headed out onto the patio, the answer was a forgone conclusion. Denise looked happy and relaxed and pleased while Beverly investigated all the shades of pink a person could turn without having a stroke. Nick looked at Cody, at the handsome blond by his side with the cleft chin and virile mustache. “Yeah, Cody. I think it just might.”
Cody grinned and laid a hand on Nick’s shoulder, squeezing.
“C’mon,” Nick said. “Let’s get out of here.” They waved good-bye to Murray spilling punch at Gloria’s side and headed back to their slip.
Cody wandered around for the next two days wearing a stunned and happy almost glassy expression, unable to explain just what had happened to the suit he’d had on the night of Straightaway's party.
---
And now there the four of them were, twenty years on. Nick and Cody had each other and the Hightide, and Denise and Beverly had each other, Beverly’s fortune, and a glass-fronted cottage overlooking the ocean.
And they had the Mimi.
Cody guided the Hightide to the airpark’s guest pier, docking expertly. “You sure you’re okay with this, Nick?”
“Never better.” Nick peered through the windshield with trepidation. The last time he’d seen Denise he hadn’t been able to look her in the eye, preferring instead to throw the Mimi’s keys at her feet before turning tail and running in the opposite direction. Nick had done a lot of running during that period in his life. He rubbed urgently at his ear. “S’fine, Cody. Look--”
“I know: we don’t need to go see the Mimi. We don’t need to go see Beverly and Denise because they send us a Christmas card every year. But, here’s the thing.” Cody turned and held up an imperious finger.
Nick waited.
“The Mimi never sends us a holiday card.”
Nick rocked back on his heels. Ladies and gentlemen, the world according to Cody Allen. But after a couple decades, Nick had gotten good at identifying the things he shouldn’t say out loud. Instead he nodded. “If you say so, man.”
Cody shot Nick a dark look before darting outside and tying up at the pier. A figure separated from the tiny shack at the the head of the gangplank; obviously Cody had called ahead. Nick watched as Cody and Beverly embraced. then held each other at arms’ length, marveling. Nick didn’t have to get any closer to hear the excited giggling. Maybe, he thought, heading for the Hightide’s ladder, they really should be doing this more often.
---
“Nick!” Beverly scampered up on light feet and threw her arms around Nick’s waist, embracing his torso with gusto. “It’s been too long!”
Nick hugged her back gingerly. “That it has. How you feeling, Bev?”
Through holiday cards and Cody’s speciality, email, Nick had been kept apprised of Beverly’s battle with breast cancer, her subsequent mastectomy and Denise’s stolid refusal to stop upsetting the doctors throughout. “You keeping well?”
Beverly grinned through her thick glasses. “Never better. Oh, just look at you two.” She extended an arm and took Cody’s hand, pulling him near. “What a sight for sore eyes. I always said you two would make it. I always told Denise that. I just wanted to tell you two, too.”
Nick said nothing, preferring, as always, to simply look at Cody.
Cody grinned back and the two of them followed Beverly up the gangplank to her waiting car. Nick climbed into the backseat and held on tight, staring resolutely at the road ahead. Tiny timid Beverly gave Cody a run for his money in the lead-foot department and a couple times along the way, Nick was convinced they were headed back to the water by the short, sharp exploding way. When Beverly pulled to a stop in the driveway, Nick thanked his lucky stars and took Cody’s hand, letting himself be tugged out of the backseat and into the heart of Marin County.
“The place looks great, Bev,” Nick said. He wasn’t lying. “You guys get yourselves a couple gardeners?”
“Oh no, Nick, not at all,” Beverly answered. “I love making things grow, and the more I do it, the more Denise loves it. She really loves to see me happy,” she said, leading them in through a huge oak front door, to a terracotta-tiled entrance hall. A dazzling circular staircase of knotty pine led to the second floor on their right, and wide archways led to a sitting room on the right and dead ahead, a straight shot through to the back garden, plants peering lush and green and eager at the windows. “The happier she is, the happier I get. I do a lot of gardening.” This last was directed at Cody.
“You guys had the place redone? That whole staircase is new, right?”
Beverly glided over to Cody’s side and took his arm. Amazingly, Nick felt no jealousy whatsoever. “Denise put it in after I saw one like it in a magazine. I told her it just looked so chic, so cozy and, you know, polished, and the next thing I knew she’d taken the truck down to Home Depot and come back with a bed full of just the perfect wood. She had it built in a couple days, then we went to the city later and explained. Cody, did you want to see the top floor? There’s that balcony I sent pictures of. And the guest room.”
The two of them headed for the staircase, leaving Nick to marvel in their wake.
The staircase story sounded exactly like the Denise Nick knew. Or at least the Denise he’d known a dozen years ago, back before she became Beverly’s Denise.
Cody and Beverly disappeared into the recesses of the second floor, headed, no doubt, for the wide balcony overlooking the ocean at the back of the house. The two of them had a lot to talk about, Nick didn’t doubt. And for the first time in a long time, Nick let himself relax. He closed his eyes and breathed deep, smelling polished pine and spices, dried and sweet and fruity. Some type of potpourri, no doubt.
Opening his eyes, Nick looked around the deserted foyer, taking in the framed photos on the walls: Baxter and his namesake, next to a couple of other flybirds; Beverly standing beaming at the edge of a crowd of pale, anxious people who looked vaguely similar, Denise standing a little ways apart, wary; Beverly and Denise together on a sun-soaked beach, burning and tan and gleeful. Yes, Nick thought. This. Two people he and Cody both respected, both held dear, and they’d made a life together, carved it out of the hide of this cruel world. This was a good thing, Nick thought. That party, so long ago. Denise. She’d come, as he’d suspected, capitare a fagiolo-- the just-in-time and much-needed meal.
Suddenly, surrounded by all the totems of Beverly and Denise’s life together, Nick felt stifled, like he couldn’t breathe. He charged back out through the front door gasping, gulping down the mist-thick morning air, knees weak and trembling. Was this it? Was this what Cody had wanted, deep down inside? Was this what Nick hadn’t given him? The swank vacations, the rafts of children, was that what Nick had forgotten in his quest to just simply keep them together?
Stones crunched under Nick’s feet as he headed back toward the car, trying not to run, the ocean behind him. He’d done his best, God knows even when the chips were down he’d done his best by Cody.
When he’d first woken from the crash, there was only pain. A pain so vast Nick couldn’t see a way around it. It filled the sky and blotted out the sun until there was nothing left. Nothing save the small, different feeling of Cody’s hand in his. As drugged out as he was, Nick shouldn’t’ve been able to tell Cody’s hand from a hole in the ground but despite the ragged, coursing pain, he’d known. The feel of Cody’s fingers interlaced with his own was like nothing else on earth, and as the pain ebbed and gnawed at him, Nick retreated to the safety of that small connection, his hand and Cody’s. Twined. Grasping. Eternal.
Nick breathed deep, bent double in the driveway, hands on his knees.
So many things were tiger traps these days, it was hard to know where was safe to let his thoughts go rambling. Nick raised his gaze to the sky. Still, one thing, his and his alone. He closed his eyes, picturing Cody in his mind. Cheerful, teasing, sweet and unsure Cody.
His Cody. Now and forever.
Nick rode that thought along its updrafts, diving and swooping through the memories until he was well enough to open his eyes.
He straightened up and blinked back the morning, then froze, disbelieving. The thin wiry arms of a rotor peeked over the tops of the dark green cypress that clung to the cliffs above the ocean.
Nick would’ve known those arms anywhere, that rotor.
Mimi.
Resigned, Nick headed directly for her across the manicured lawn and through the trees.
---
Looking back, Nick realized there was nothing that could’ve prepared him for the shock of seeing her again.
She was his, would always be his. And yet, somehow she was different.
“Mimi.” Her name came unbidden to his lips. It’d been so long since he’d called to her, so long since he’d guided her into the sky.
She looked well. She was pearl gray now, metallic and reflecting all the colors of the weak sun at Nick’s back. But she was proud, he could tell even from the ground. He crooked his head, taking in her details.
His girl. His beautiful girl, no longer pink but blue, crouched in the background. She looked so good it hurt. She looked not just like someone loved her, but like someone took her out on a regular basis, putting her through her paces, stretching her wings, making her feel the burn and stay lean into her old age.
“Nick. Bev said you two would be stopping by.” Denise dropped from Mimi’s belly, a live birth in action. Nick didn’t trust his voice at first, but one look in her eyes and he knew she saw his pain, his questions. “Wanna go up?”
Nick made himself shake his head. “I can’t. My...” He gestured to his ears and Denise nodded.
“Cody sent us email. Your ears. The crash. Brutal, man. I could’ve told you about those Bells.”
Nick roiled. “Look lady, no one needs to tell me about any Bells. Russian-made tin cans, what are you kidding me? They had Bad Idea written all over them.”
“But...”
Nick waved her questions away. “How is she?”
“She’s a fine old lady. A little fussy but well worth the extra effort. I used to--” Nick heard her swallow hard. “When it was bad, the chemo, I used to carry Bev out here and put her in a cot in the hold. It was the last thing the doctors wanted but at that point whatever those ass-clowns told me was forbidden, I did. I took them out over the ocean, let Bev lie there with the headphones on, told her everything I saw, everything the wind told me. I made her go out day after day, Nick.”
“And?”
“Four years of remission, knock on wood.” Denise rapped her knuckles on the Mimi’s flanks, a hollow, aching clang. “Five next Saturday. I’m planning to take her up to Point Reyes, to watch the sea lions. She loves them. She--” Denise’s voice broke. She scrubbed a hand over her nose and mouth, sniffing loudly, pulling it together. “I suppose you were asking about the Mimi. Right?”
Nick looked up at the steps leading to the Mimi’s cockpit. He could feel the steel under his feet, solid and welcoming.
“She looks good,” he said eventually. “She looks well, like someone’s taking care of her.”
A gleam came to Denise’s eyes. “I’m trying. I’ll--” Her voice broke again. “I’ll try ‘til the day I die.”
Nick grasped her shoulder and nodded, the words stuck in his throat. He heard footsteps behind him, the light excited chatter of birds, then Denise’s gaze lifted. “She’s all gassed up, love. You say the word and we’re gone.”
Heart in his throat, Nick let the chatter fall away. He remembered--
“Mister Ryder,” the doctor began.
“Lieutenant Ryder,” Cody snapped, and that was how Nick knew he was in a military hospital. Cody would never have spoken to a civilian like that.
“Lieutenant Ryder,” the doctor began again, “I’m going to have to ask you to refrain from all air-bound activity for a period not less than six months or not to exceed the intervening period between this interview and any successive interview administered by myself or a peer.”
Nick made a noise.
“He says you can’t fly, Nick,” Cody said brokenly. “Not for six months, or at least not until they say you can. Hey,” Cody leaned in close; Nick knew this because his sense of Cody got warmer and he felt the skin that was not his own close the distance between them. “You know they’re covering their asses, Nick. They’ve gotta say this. But you’ll be back in the sky before you know it.” Cody squeezed Nick’s hand and Nick had the sense that if the doctor hadn’t been there, Cody would’ve sealed the promise with a kiss. Nick tried his hardest to squeeze back.
There was jargon then, the doctor droning on about side effects and follow-up treatments and Nick heard Cody lying, promising visits Nick knew Cody wouldn’t keep him to. He couldn’t have loved Cody more than he did just then, hearing the undertone in Cody’s voice that he knew was just for him. Nick clung to that undertone, made of it a blanket to wrap himself in before the sedatives returned, terrifying and implacable.
Memory chased Nick back to the present, to where he stood at the foot of a foreign driveway, feeling the thrum of Mimi’s rotors and knowing that she obeyed a different master now. He’d given her away like a shy but eager bride.
Denise climbed down out of the pilot’s seat and jogged across the helipad. Nick turned in time to see her draw Beverly close, like a treasure someone had tried to take.
“Don’t say I didn’t offer,” Denise told Beverly.
Beverly beamed. “You always offer. Besides, we can go tomorrow, and the next day if you like. But today we have guests!”
Nick caught Denise’s eye and they shared a secret, baleful moment. Nick didn’t blame her one bit. If he could’ve he’d’ve followed Denise into the Mimi’s cockpit and taken to the sky. The weather was perfect for a short trip up the coast or down, out over the water or inland, just to annoy the FAA controllers.
But he couldn’t, so instead Nick followed Cody and Beverly back toward the house, Denise just a few steps behind.
---
There were times Nick still couldn’t believe the crash was real. After all, the weather had been perfect.
They were still in King Harbor then, still on-board the Riptide but after Murray had left, spending more and more time on land at Roboztics. But no matter how successful his start-up got, Murray still kept his hand in with government grants, his brain still in demand. They’d needed a two-point survey, surface-to-air, that was what Nick remembered. That and the deadline. For some reason it had to be within those three days, some artificial deadline, and with Mimi’s pistons lying in pieces in a hangar in Reseda, the choice had been made for him: a rent-a-chopper from Derek’s. They had Bells.
After that, the day came back in snatches: going up, no problem, miles of visibility and an up-draft you could nearly chew. The nagging ticking under Nick’s feet an afterthought, an intrusion on a sunny, perfect day on the California coast. Relaying coordinates to Cody, chugging along in the Riptide under him, pair after pair, science in action. Then the faltering motor and the smoke, the engine giving a faint apologetic cough; a belch of black, oily smoke, then just...falling...spiraling toward the earth...
“Nick.”
Nick fell back to earth in Marin, back to the sitting-room of Beverly and Denise’s house, Cody at his side, one hand on his arm, squeezing softly. Nick blinked, reorienting.
“You want some coffee, Nick?” Cody put the mug in his hands, fingers brushing gently, a promise to cover for him and more, a promise to get them out of there and gone as soon as he could.
Nick looked thanks at Cody and then his hosts, cradling the heat in his hands. Suddenly the Mimi at his back felt oppressive somehow, as if her shadow had weight, as if he could feel her through the walls.
“So like I was saying,” Beverly continued, “our nephews, the twins you know, they’re thinking about applying to La Jolla. It’s hard to imagine they could be old enough for college, but then again...” She shrugged delicately and Denise smiled at her, a knowing smile, a smile of understanding. “We’re all getting older, I guess.”
“Better than the alternative,” Denise said quietly. Beverly and Cody laughed and Nick kept right on fighting the urge to turn and look out the window, craning to catch a glimpse of the Mimi’s rotors. 1998. That was when the crash had been, and after it Nick had spent a year in the hell of his own devising, pretending nothing was wrong while around him and his broken inner ears, the Riptide spun like a top. 1999 had been a hell of Cody’s devising, but Nick had been complicit in that too, agreeing to try life in a white stucco box so far from the shore you couldn’t even hear the ocean over the noise of the 5.
“--I mean, the only way out is through, you know?”
Cody nodded enthusiastically at Bev but his knee pressed against Nick’s with a certain weight, a certain pressure that let Nick know Cody was ready anytime he was.
“We might think we’d rather not go through the things we have to, but eventually that’s what makes us who we are. Take Denise’s brother, for example.”
Denise made a noise in her throat as if hoping someone would in fact, take her brother. Nick felt the beginnings of a grin.
“--But according to his P.O. -- that’s parole officer, Cody -- he’s doing great. Sticking to the terms of his release, showing up for work every day on time, never missing an appointment. Maybe five years in Corcoran was the only way for him. That happens some times, you know?”
Cody nodded and took Beverly’s hand. No one mentioned the Gordons and the Dents and what the way through was like for them. Nick scrubbed a hand over his face, remembering. It was so long ago, and Cody had gotten so bent out of shape about the Riptide, but then again, Nick had found several interesting ways to bend him back.
---
Nick returned to the present, to Beverly and Denise’s comfortable, organized life and their family photos and their sitting room. It was hard to believe the four of them had known each other twenty years. It was hard to believe the Mimi was right outside, perching, pearl-blue on her helipad as if she’d never flown kamikaze all those years back when.
Denise coughed decorously and, as if it was catching, Cody gathered himself and looked over at Nick. Outside, the sun was starting to sink down toward the tops of the live oaks and cypress that separated house and helipad. They can’t even see her, Nick thought. They can’t even see her from their house.
Cody reached over and squeezed Nick’s knee and Nick heard Cody’s voice, as if it lived in his brain: You couldn’t see her from Slip 7 either, so settle down. We’re almost done here.
Nick nodded and Cody returned his attention to Beverly, taking her hands and exclaiming over how well she looked. Nick and Denise regarded each other a little warily over the remains of the tea.
“She treatin’ you well?” Nick asked.
Denise shook her head. “She’s terrible. First hint of fog and she throws a piston. Just drops it right there on the ground, like she’s just looking for an excuse not to get out of bed.”
“The pistons on the Choctaws kinda do that. They’re notorious.”
“They’re a pain in my ass, is what they are.”
Nick smirked. “And the rest of the time, the clear days?”
“Still flies like a dream. We take her out to look for sea lions all the time. In fact, we’re going out tonight, if the weather holds.” For a moment, Denise looked uncomfortable. “Nick,” she said softly. “You ever sorry you gave her up? You know, even if you didn’t have the...” Denise gestured.
“Every fucking day.”
Denise snorted. “Thought you’d say that. I can’t imagine what it’s like.”
“No, you can’t.” Nick fought hard to stay in control, not to glare or gnash or rail. Not to elaborate on the bald obviousness of Denise’s statement. Not being able to fly was like he imagined missing a limb must be: hard to believe, impossible to get used to and the ache was a constant reminder of the loss.
Cody’s hand returned to Nick’s knee, squeezing.
“Speaking of which,” Denise leaned forward, putting a hand on Beverly’s arm.
Beverly started in her direction. “Oh! Has it been that long already? We were planning to take the Mimi out to look for sea lions. It’s still early for them to be back up here, but we keep watch for NOAA.” She pronounced it No-ah. “I thought we’d have enough time before-- I mean that you two would be-- you know. Oh...” She appealed to Denise.
“We’ve gotta go,” Denise said coolly. “Cody, if you’d like to go with...”
“Thank you but no.” Cody’s grip was like iron on Nick’s knee. “I appreciate the offer but those days are long past. He rose and looked to Nick to do likewise. “We have a different life now.”
And that’s when it hit Nick; they did, they had a different life from when they were playing P.I.s down in Redondo. They were older and wiser and more cautious. For a long time, Nick had thought this a bad thing, but a glimpse at Cody’s medic-alert bracelet made him think otherwise.
He still refused to remember Cody’s heart attack, even though he knew his chatterbox partner had filled them in. It still hurt when Nick thought about it, people taking Cody away from him, behind doors he couldn’t push past, up to remote floors he had no standing on. He’d never asked, but it struck him now that Cody had to have experienced something similar during the crash. There was no formal paperwork between them, no rings, nothing tangible to show that he was Cody’s, just as sure as if it had been inked across his forehead.
Nick reached across and boldly took Cody’s hand. He nodded at their hosts. “We’re good. But you two go on ahead.”
---
Outside, the fog was starting to gather in invisible pockets just above the ground. Nick could feel it in his bad shoulder and his neck and back. He could hear it too, in the way the Mimi coughed and spluttered as Denise coaxed her awake.
The Mimi. His best girl, right up until he gave her away. Now she had her own life, and Nick had Cody. The world kept turning, just like the big chopper’s rotors. A gentle wash swept over Nick, cold and keen and soft. He stood and watched as Denise donned her headphones and adjusted the gyroscope; it had a tendency to stick at 15 degrees and Denise, frowning, gave the instrument panel a practiced thump with her fist. Nick grinned.
“Bye, Cody! Bye, Nick! It was so good of you to come! You must come back!” Beverly had to shout to be heard over the Mimi and she did.
Cody took Nick’s hand, slipping behind him, into place like a shadow. Nick felt Cody nod.
The two women waved; Denise still fierce and taut in her jumpsuit, aging the way some women do age, growing lean and winnowed by the passing of time. And Beverly, ever smaller, fuller and rounder and still unexpectedly adorable in a succession of flowered gingham dresses. Once theirs and then, when they gave her away, Denise’s.
Beverly sketched an excited wave at Cody. “Sea lions, Cody!”
Nick turned his head in time to see Cody give her thumbs up.
Beverly managed to clutch her skirts around her as she climbed up through the open cargo door, before being swallowed by the cockpit. Denise waved. She shouted something Mimi stole with the wash from her rotors.
Nick raised his hand, offering camaraderie and peace. Cody pressed against his back, an arm around his waist.
Those first few months Nick had returned to the Riptide, after, were the worst months of his life. Every step he took betrayed him, the world shaking and shifting around him. He’d tried so hard, for Cody’s sake, to pretend everything was fine, that this was the new okay, the post-crash okay. Nick could adjust, for Cody’s sake. He always had.
But the more he’d tried, the more he saw in Cody’s eyes that he’d failed. The more he saw pity and sorrow in the eyes he loved so well. The eyes he lived to make light up.
Then came the arguments, the shouting, the demands. Nick wanted so much to be the man Cody needed, the one who could live broken on the water. But the truth had a funny way of getting out.
But that was then.
This was now. And now was an airpark in Half Moon Bay, seventy miles up the coast from their home marina and the two of them standing firmly on the ground, watching as Mimi rose into the sky, wearing her new blue paint and carrying two of the finest people Nick had ever known. The sea lions, at Point Reyes. They wouldn’t wait forever.
And after all, a promise was not to be taken lightly.
Nick stood with his feet firmly anchored on the ground and Cody at his back. Waving, he watched the Mimi rise into the sky, getting smaller and farther away until she was just a speck, her wingbeats carried away by the wind.
Denise was right, Nick thought: she’s a helluva bird.
Nick stood there with Cody’s hand on his shoulder long after the Mimi faded from view. Cody stood with him, patient and waiting and perfect.
She’s a helluva bird, Nick.
Nick nodded and turned his face from the sky. He ran a hand down Cody’s back, silently appreciating everything Cody was to him. Everything they’d been through together. He couldn’t fly anymore, but he could still love the hell out of Cody Allen.
“Hey Nick.” Cody had that playful gleam in his eye.
“Yeah?”
Cody looked around the driveway theatrically. “How d’you suppose we’re getting back to the boat?”
Nick frowned around at the deserted driveway, then the surrealness of the situation hit home. Laughing, he slung an arm around Cody’s shoulders and squeezed. “C’mon, man. Can’t be more than a mile or so and you know what the doctor said about going for walks.”
“I’m not sure this is what he had in mind, buddy.”
Nick squeezed Cody’s shoulder again in answer, then the two of them headed down the driveway and back along the road to the harbor, the soft woof of the Mimi’s rotors carried in the opposite direction by the twilight breeze.
