The Virtuous Woman (21 page)

They all found the food surprisingly good, and the conversation died down while they ate. After a bit Grace asked, “So what are we going to do about Kev’s dream of learning to fly?”

“I’ve been thinking about it.” Francis took a bite of biscuit and gravy and said, “Kev, your dad would be glad to do this for you, you know. He’s got the money.”

“I don’t want him to do it for me. I want this to be something I do on my own.”

“How much money have you got left?”

“Not much after paying the fine,” Kevin admitted.

“I know you don’t have any money, Grace, or you would have been out of the slammer.”

“That’s right.” She nodded. “How much have you got?”

“Not enough to pay for flying lessons.”

“How much do lessons cost?” she asked.

“I have no idea, but I know I don’t have enough no matter how much they are.”

They finished their meals and continued to drink coffee as the waitress refilled their cups. Each time she returned to the table, she smiled at Francis. Finally she asked, “You stayin’ in town long, honey?”

“Not very.”

“I get off at six.”

“I’ll remember that,” Francis said gloomily. As soon as she had left, he said, “Let’s go back to the motel.”

“You afraid she’s gonna attack you?” Grace said, grinning with enjoyment over Key’s embarrassment. “I’ve got my blackjack here if you wanna borrow it.”

“Come on,” Francis said, ignoring her jibes.

When they returned to the motel, Key said, “I saw a phone booth down the road. I’ve got to go make a long-distance call. Everybody give me all your change.”

Kevin turned his pockets inside-out searching for change, and Grace found some coins in her purse. “I’ll be back when I get back,” he said.

After he had left, Kevin said, “You know, Grace, I’m glad Francis is with us. It makes me feel better somehow.”

“He does make you feel that way, doesn’t he? I don’t know how he does it. I’ve always gone for big, tall men, not little runts that can get beaten to a pulp. Still, there’s somethin’ about him.”

They sat down on a bench outside the motel to wait for Francis, and Grace lit a cigarette. “Okay, Kev. Tell me more about this dream of yours and why you wanna fly.”

Kevin talked for some time about how much he loved aviation as they watched the cars go by. The longing to fly was evident in his voice and eyes. Finally he looked up and said, “Here comes Francis. I hope he’s got an idea.”

Francis looked unhappy as he approached the two, and Grace said, “You didn’t find out anything, did you?”

“Maybe.”

“Well, what is it?” she asked impatiently, standing to her feet along with Kevin.

“I found a place you can get lessons,” he told Kevin. “But it’s pretty far away. There’s a flying school in Baton Rouge that was owned by a guy I used to know.”

“Did you talk to them?” Kevin asked eagerly.

Francis scratched his head. “It’s a catch-as-catch-can outfit. Not fancy, you understand.”

“That doesn’t matter as long they can teach me to fly.”

“You know the owner?” Grace asked.

“I used to be good friends with the original owner, but he died a few years ago. Flying lessons are going to cost more money than I’ve got.”

“I spent most of my money on that motorcycle,” Kevin said.

“We may have to sell it,” Francis suggested.

“No we won’t,” Grace said firmly. “I’ll get a job.”

“Doing what?” Francis demanded.

“Waitressing. I can do that. I’ve done it before.”

“I expect we’ll all have to work.” Francis sighed.

“So who owns the school now? Do you know him too?” Grace asked.

“It’s not a him. It’s a her.”

“A woman owns a flying school?”

“It was her dad who died, and she inherited it.”

“What’s her name?”

“Babe Delaney.”

Something about the way Francis pronounced the name caught Grace’s attention, and she smiled slightly. “Babe, huh? Tell us more about her.”

“Well, we were pretty good friends at one time,” Francis said guardedly.

When both Kevin and Grace saw that there was more to Babe Delaney than Francis was willing to admit, Kevin said, “I hate to make you go there, Francis. You go on home and work on your novel.”

“No, actually, half of my book is set in New Orleans. I was going to go there sometime for background anyway.”

“What are we waitin’ for? Let’s go, then,” Grace said.

“Let’s get a good night’s sleep first,” Francis said in his pragmatic way, “and in the morning we’ll head out. It’s Louisiana or bust!”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Babe

Francis became the bookkeeper for the trio and announced that they would no longer spend any money on vain things.

“What do you mean by ‘vain things’?” Grace demanded.

“I mean like motel rooms.”

“Where we going to sleep, then?” Kevin asked.

“We’ll camp out.”

“But we don’t have any camping gear,” he pointed out.

“We’ll stop somewhere and get some blankets. It’s warm enough we won’t need but one apiece, and we can probably use them in Baton Rouge too—in case we have to sleep out in a swamp.”

“I’m not sleepin’ in any swamp,” Grace moaned. “I was there once for a week with a carny, and I went out to one of them swamps. Saw an alligator big enough to swallow me whole! And the mosquitoes weren’t much smaller. No campin’ in a swamp for me.”

“I was just kidding,” Francis remarked, “but we do have to conserve whatever money we have left.”

“I’ll bet you can sweet-talk your old flame, Babe, and she’ll give us a discount on flyin’ lessons.” Grace had figured out that Francis and Babe Delaney had been an item at one time. She was anxious to see the woman, wondering what sort of female Key was attracted to.

Kevin drove the truck, and they headed steadily south, stopping late that afternoon in a small town, where they went into a dry goods store to buy blankets.

“After we get blankets,” Francis said, “let’s go across the street to that grocery store and get something for supper.”

“I’ll go with you,” Grace said. “I might not like what you pick out.”

They went into the grocery store, and Francis had to say no to most of Grace’s ideas, which were too expensive. They wound up getting hot dogs and buns and soft drinks. Grace insisted on getting three Baby Ruth candy bars, and Key paid for it all, counting out the money carefully.

They drove another half hour, and Key said, “There’s a pretty likely looking spot to camp over there behind those trees.”

“There’s a creek running along it,” Kevin said, pulling the truck off the road and parking behind the trees.

Francis stooped down to take a sip of water from the creek. “It tastes pretty fresh.”

“I’ll see if I can find some dry wood,” Kevin offered.

An hour later it was dark, and Kevin had built a cheerful fire. The sky overhead was spangled with stars, and the moon was a perfect silver circle.

Key cut some small saplings with his pocketknife and sharpened them to a point, handing one each to Kevin and Grace. “Everybody’s his own cook tonight.”

Soon they were seated around the fire roasting the hot dogs. “I haven’t done this since I was twelve years old,” Kevin said with a laugh. “We used to go out and roast wieners and marshmallows pretty often—Brian and Paige and I.”

“I can’t imagine Paige sitting on a log or the grass with a dirty face roasting a hot dog,” Grace said.

“She was different when she was younger. So was Brian.”

“I guess we all were,” Francis said. He suddenly reached over and grabbed Grace’s stick. “You’re burning that wiener! Don’t stick it right in the fire. Just hold it above the flames until it forms little blisters.”

“You’re always bossing me around,” Grace snapped. “I guess I can roast a hot dog as good as you can.”

It turned out, however, that hers was crispy black. Francis shook his head and handed her his. “Here, eat this one. I’ll fix myself another one.”

“Um-mm. I wonder why things taste better outdoors,” Grace said through a mouthful of hot dog.

“I don’t know that they do,” Francis said. “I’d rather be sitting inside at a cloth-covered table eating a T-bone steak.”

Kevin was already putting down his third hot dog. “I think Grace is right,” he said. “Things do taste better outdoors. My dad likes to barbecue a lot at our house. I made a barbecue pit out of a huge barrel. I believe we could cook a whole pig on that thing.”

They sat talking until the hot dogs were gone, and then Grace said, “Now for dessert.” She reached for the sack containing the Baby Ruth bars, but Kevin said, “Not yet.” He turned his back and worked busily for a moment.

“What are you doing?” Grace demanded.

Kevin turned around and presented a large cookie to Grace with a candle in the middle of it. “I know I’m a day late, but happy birthday, sis,” he said. “Come on, Francis, we’ll sing to her.” He began singing “Happy Birthday,” and Key joined in.

Grace held the cookie with the candle while the two men sang. When the song was finished, Kevin kissed her on the cheek. “Happy birthday, sis.” Francis reached over and squeezed her shoulder. “Happy birthday, Grace.”

Grace felt something swell in her throat and had to clear it before she said, “This is the best birthday I’ve ever had.”

“Happy birthday, Grace!”

Grace jumped at the raucous screech and turned to the cage that Francis had placed on the ground. “Miriam, you’re a scream!” she exclaimed.

“Better make a wish and blow out your candle before it melts all over your cookie,” Kevin said with a grin. He watched as she did so and said, “What did you wish for?”

Grace broke off a piece of the cookie and pushed it between the bars for Miriam. The parrot grabbed it and gulped
it down. “I wished that Babe would still be in love with ol’ Francis here.” She grinned mischievously at Key.

He blushed and snorted. “That was a long time ago.”

“Aw, that don’t matter.” She winked at Kevin and said, “I don’t know why, but women seem to like you. That secretary of yours had eyes for you.”

“Don’t be silly!”

“And that redhead in the diner. Remember, Kev, how she fell all over him and ignored us?”

Francis said roughly, “Here, give me my part of that birthday cookie and lay off, would ya?”

Miriam burst into the conversation with “Be ye holy!”

Grace laughed shortly. “Okay, that’s enough, Miriam. I don’t need none of your preachin’!”

They sat around the fire until finally Kevin stretched and said, “I’m gonna turn in. Hope it doesn’t rain tonight.”

“I think I’ll just sit here by the fire for the night,” Grace said.

“You don’t have to be afraid,” Francis said. “Nothing out here to hurt you.”

“I ain’t afraid!” Grace acted offended. “I just don’t wanna miss nothin’.”

Francis grinned. “Not much to miss—unless a skunk wanders into camp.”

Grace’s eyes grew large. “Do they do that?”

“Happened to me once, but that was a long way from here.”

The two sat by the fire while Kevin curled up in his blanket and slept. From time to time, Francis fed the fire with dead branches. Grace looked up at the sky. “All those stars are somethin’. I wish I knew their names.”

“You see the Little Dipper there?”

“Little Dipper? Where?”

“Right there.... Can you make out the shape of a square dipper? The star at the end of the handle is Polaris. It’s fifty times bigger than our sun!”

“Aw, you’re puttin’ me on, Francis!”

“No I’m not.”

“But it ain’t bright like the sun.”

“That’s because it’s three hundred light-years from earth.”

“Light-years? What’s that?”

“Light travels 186,000 miles in one second. A light-year is the distance light travels in a year.”

“How do you know all this stuff?”

“I read a lot.”

“But what good does it do you to know all that stuff about stars?”

Francis laughed. “What good does it do you to be ignorant about them?”

Grace rolled her eyes.

“I’m going to sleep.”

While Francis got comfortable, Grace sat thinking about what would happen when they got to Baton Rouge. Finally she drew her blanket around her and lay back, staring up at the stars. A smile touched her lips, and she thought,
He may know a lot about stars, but he don’t know much about women.

****

By the time they pulled into Baton Rouge, all three of the travelers were glad the journey was over. They had slept outside three nights in a row and were feeling pretty grubby by now.

“I’m starvin’,” Grace said. “Let’s get a real meal where we can sit inside.”

“All right,” Kevin said. “I’ll stop at the next café.”

Ten minutes later they pulled up in front of a restaurant called Papa John’s Cajun Cooking. When they entered, they were taken by the enticing smells. “I don’t know what that is,” Grace exclaimed, “but I sure want some of it!”

They sat down at a table, and a lean man wearing blue pants and a white apron came over. He had olive skin, bright
white teeth, and dark, liquid eyes. “What can I get for you folks? I hope you’re hungry.”

Kevin nodded. “I’ve never had Cajun before. Have you got a menu?”

The man motioned to a chalkboard on the wall with the day’s specials. “There—you can’t go wrong with any of those dishes.”

The three feasted on gumbo, jambalaya, and barbecued shrimp. Francis insisted that they count their money, but this turned out to be discouraging.

“Francis, I wish you hadn’t paid off all your debts with the money my dad paid you,” Kevin said.

“We can always sell the motorcycle,” Francis reminded them.

“No, we’re not selling that!” Grace argued. “Not yet anyway.” She smiled at Kevin and said, “It’s the best gift anyone ever gave me, and I’m not givin’ it up. Like I said, I can get a job. We’ll make out.”

She had a glint in her eye as she put her hand under Francis’s chin and turned his face toward her. He blinked with surprise, and she leaned forward and said, “Practice on me, Francis.”

“What do you mean ‘practice on you’?”

“I mean, give me some sweet talk like you’re gonna give Babe so she’ll give Kev free tuition.”