Page 22 of Soaring and Saucy

“I’m not going to…”

“You’ve got a mouth on you – and so does your sister. It doesn’t come from the neighbors, you know. Just think before you say something.”

“Yup,” he said curtly, feeling frustrated.

Was that why she wanted him to call, because his mother suspected him of being snarky or crude enough to drive Stephanie away or push her into getting an abortion? That was his child – whether he wanted to be a father or not. That was a part of him, and he intended to do the right thing, no matter what.

Saying goodbye, he hung up the phone and began typing again.

Stephanie,

Thank you for writing – and yes, we should probably talk. I wish we had parted a little differently, but I’m really glad you reached out. I would like the chance to discuss things, but the ship is pulling out of port in two weeks. I can text, call, or FaceTime you – but maybe this is a conversation best had face-to-face.

Would you mind if I came to see you?

Yours,

Lance

“HEY!”

Lance looked up to see several of the guys talking and waving over a few others to join in. He knew what this was – and smiled. They were heading out on the town and getting their ‘posse’ together for the evening.

“Trophy – you up, bro? A little birthday celebration for Tic-Tak?”

“It’s your birthday?”

“Yup,” the man grinned broadly, causing him to laugh as he rose from his seat, hugging his friend. “I’m legal now and…”

“Whatever,” Lance laughed wildly, slapping him on the shoulders. “You’ve been legal at least ten times.”

“Eleven,” Tic-Tak said, winking. “But whose counting -eh?”

“Round ‘em up!” Ohio yelled wildly, “We’re loading up. Get your paper and your brothers! Ain’t nobody looking to ‘load a dishwasher,’ if you get my drift.”

“What’s he talking about?” a guy walked past them, looking completely confused, and Lance shook his head. Heaven help him from the naïve ones, he thought, chuckling.

According to Ohio, a ‘dishwasher’ was a woman – and he didn’t want to have a bunch of kids all around the world. The rolls of laughter around them at the slang terms were telling. ‘Paper’ was the dollar bills for the strip club, tips, and dollar long-necks… and ‘plastic’ was contraceptive for the night.

His team partied hard when they went out, and Lance sobered suddenly at the thoughts that hit him hard at that moment. He was married – and possibly going to be a dad because he was guilty of ‘loading the dishwasher’ – and felt ill at the crass term. The thought made him uncomfortable because he would never imagine labeling Stephanie like that. She was better than anything implied by that statement.

“We’re going,” Shellac announced, tugging on his arm. “C’mon…”

“I think I’m going to stay here,” Lance replied, ignoring the groans of frustration. “I’m tired, fellas.”

“Ohhhh my gosh,” Ohio groaned aloud, rolling his eyes and glaring at him. “This is Tic-Tak’s birthday. Our squadron, our brothers, are all going out, including Orion – and you know he never goes. Come with us, live a little, and get whatever stick is stuck up your whiny butt outta there so you can party for a little while like the old Trophy.”

Lance looked up and saw Orion was indeed standing there, looking at him curiously and lifted an eyebrow in question.

“Fine…” Lance muttered, knowing he wasn’t going to get out of this tonight without someone poking at him. He wasn’t in the mood for any of it, much less getting drunk with a bunch of guys looking to burn off some energy. As they all started to leave the carrier – Orion walked up behind him.

“You’re riding with me. Ohio, go ride with Shellac and Pasteur.”

The man jogged off without a word as Lance glanced at the other man who kept a neutral expression. As they climbed into the truck, Orion shoved the key in and started it up, still not looking at him.

“So? Are you going to make me pry it out of you, or do you wanna talk?”

“I loaded the… eh, I messed up,” Lance admitted quietly, watching his friend’s expression for any sort of judgment or surprise. He couldn’t bring himself to call Stephanie a ‘dishwasher.’

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