Page 19 of Forever Flustered

Twenty minutes later, Maureen was regretting that decision.

Flyboys was humming with activity, which completely took her by surprise considering how small a town Yonder was. There had to be at least fifty people buzzing around as an airplane took off in the distance – and another one was coming in to land. For a moment, she wondered if she was supposed to park on the street because there were cars everywhere… and then heard a piercing whistle.

Blinking, Maureen saw Glory in the distance holding up what looked like a metal stick, almost like a flag bearer in a parade – who then pointed in her direction. Heads turned, people paused what they were doing, and Maureen nearly threw her car in reverse and bolted out of the small gravel driveway, only to see someone jogging in her direction now. She’d been spotted, identified, and was being actively approached – and this was a small town. If she backed out now, ignored everything, and left… it wouldn’t look good for her business and gossip would spread like wildfire.

“And here we go,” Maureen muttered under her breath, rolling down the window and plastering a fake smile on her face as the man drew to a halt, drawing in a breath, and smirking at her. “Hello.”

“Whew,” he chuckled. “I guess not running laps is taking a toll on me – or it’s the four cups of coffee I had this morning. You’re Archangel’s girlie, aren’t you?”

“I’m his friend – not his girl,” she corrected and winced at the rush of happiness that raced down her spine at the mistaken association. The man chuckled, shook his head, and then looked at her.

“It’s early, huh?”

“What?”

“Nothing,” he chuckled again, winking at her before pointing. “Go ahead and park your car up by the hangar. Glory makes the team park behind the hangar or the building with the classrooms. She keeps us in line out here while my sister runs a tight ship on the inside of our building – I’m Alpo, by the way,” he offered, holding out a hand just as Maureen moved to shake it. They both paused awkwardly – because they obviously realized at the same time how filthy his palm was. Instead of making things odd - especially with it being Harley’s brother – Maureen grabbed his pointer finger between two of her fingers and shook it, making both laugh in understanding. “Welcome to Flyboys, Archangel’s friend…” he teased and waved her past him.

Pulling forward, Maureen parked her car and gave a few casual smiles to those people who were watching her carefully. Probably all with the same assumptions as Harley’s brother had a few moments ago, she thought silently, but wasn’t really upset… it was more of an uneasiness that she felt, especially with how things had ended while Archangel was here.

“Now I’m even referring to him in my head as Archangel,” she muttered, walking up the steps to Flyboys – only to have the door open almost violently, coming face to face with Harley.

“I just made a fresh pot of coffee, but we’ve gotta hurry before Valkyrie lands that plane. I swear, no one should drink as much coffee as that man does,” Harley began in a rush and stepped back, waving Maureen inside. “Coffee is a hot commodity around here, and with several of the guys now carrying their Flyboys insulated tumblers, well… my coffee pot is a little too empty much too often, if you get my drift,” Harley finished with an exasperated sigh.

“Let me guess – they leave the empty pot?” Maureen offered knowingly with a smile, stepping inside the flight school.

“Yes – and don’t even get me started on the toilet seat being left up all the freakin’ time,” Harley laughed. “I’m working with savages, I tell you.”

Both women laughed easily, Maureen following Harley around the building to the small breakroom that had a mostly-eaten box of donuts on the table – left open, mind you – and a scattering of crumbs beside it. Harley just sighed good-naturedly and grabbed a Lysol wipe from a nearby container like this was an everyday occurrence. It was kind of nice to see that they were just normal people with mundane quirks like anyone else, putting her immediately at ease.

“How do you take your coffee?” Harley asked, throwing away the wipe and opening a cupboard.

“Oh, I’ll make mine,” Maureen replied immediately – only to see Harley smile at her over her shoulder.

“I’m not offering to make it,” Harley chided almost playfully. “I was just going to point you in the direction of what you might need. If you want a ‘Mocha-latte’ like Glory calls her sludge, the hot cocoa packets are in this cabinet. If you want it straight up with a dose of ‘moo’ like Firefly prefers, then you want the little blue cow dispenser. If you need ‘chemicals’ to function, the flavored creamer is in the door – and last time I checked, Inferno had a slew of different frou-frou girly flavors,” Harley chuckled, rolling her eyes. “The man is a freak with a heart of gold – but heads-up, you should sniff it before you pour it in. He’s not here as much as he used to be, so it might have gone bad.”

“I’ll stick with the ‘moo’,” Maureen replied, relaxing once more after her faux pas. Of course the woman wasn’t going to make her coffee, but the simple question mixed with a bit of nerves threw her for a loop – or maybe it was all the ‘Archangel’s Girl’ comments from a moment ago.

“Sooo?” Harley began, filling two mugs before looking at her once more. “Do I have to pull it out of you?”

“Pull what?”

“The details,” Harley replied, pulling out a chair and taking a seat. There was a cup full of spoons on a Lazy Susan in the middle of the table, complete with a pink crystal sugar bowl next to an upside-down butter dish lid that had a variety of colored sugar packets. “What’s Archangel like? How long did you talk? Did you go out for a date?” - And Maureen almost dropped the ceramic cow she’d just withdrawn from the refrigerator, gawking at Harley.

Harley simply lifted an eyebrow knowingly, before reaching for a spoon. “I see – so no date after the wedding... Gotcha,” and then cursed, tossing down a spoon onto the table in disgust. There – on the spoon – was a torn sticky note that said, “Licked”. It was so weird, so unexpected, that a bubble of laughter escaped from Maureen before she could stifle it as Harley rolled her eyes, withdrew another spoon, and then did it again.

Another spoon – another torn note warning the next user that the spoon had already been used.

“Why don’t they just put them in the blasted sink?” Harley gritted out tersely, frowning. “I swear, I’m gonna get disposables…” and paused, chucking a third spoon into the sink with a clatter as it contacted the stainless steel and whatever dish was lying in wait in the sink. “They’re like children – only bigger…” and pulled another spoon, slumping in defeat in her chair as she held up the fourth one for Maureen to see. There, on the spoon, was a sticky note taped around the entire piece, so it didn’t come off with scrawled handwriting that said, “I’m MARY POPPINS, boyzzz!”

“They're morons,” Harley groaned. “This is my ‘zoo’ and my ‘monkeys’ are running wild, completely out of control, possibly rabid… definitely insane.”

Maureen smothered a laugh with her hand, unsure what to say or do, but the spoon thing was kinda funny… if it wasn’t your problem to deal with. A man entered the doorway, took one look at Harley, and started to back out, but Harley was faster.

“OHHHH, NO YOU DON’T!” Harley yelped, coming out of her chair as she shook the spoon angrily at the newest arrival. “Who is doing this? Is this you? Was this your idea? These… these sticky notes?”

“I was just doing…”

“Nope!” Harley barked, cutting him off, and for a moment, Maureen actually felt bad for the guy. He looked awfully concerned, like a child whose hand had been caught in the cookie jar, desperately searching around him for the real culprit that had crumbs on his chin still – and he was simply caught in the crossfire… ahem – friendly fire, because the man standing there was none other than Thumper, Harley’s husband.