“Matter of fact,” he told her, “we’re working on the galleys. I’ll pick you up outside Terminal One in fifteen minutes.”
It was perfect. The sun was blinding bright on a hot day with a hot breeze when Mark showed up in his New Century truck. The airplane was parked on the far side of the airport near a group of hangars and other aircraft. All the doors were open with air stairs leading into the fuselage.
April and Jared stared gap-mouthed at the beautiful jet—resplendent in its fresh paint job, dazzling white with lines of silver, gold and black down the sides and up the tail.
“Cool,” Jared said.
Mark stopped the truck near the stairs and they all just sat there for a moment, appreciating the magnificent aircraft.
“Is it really ours?” April asked.
April had no idea what feelings that question had provoked. Ours. Yes, it’s ours. All of us who work to put it into the air. And our families, too, who feel the birthing process just as keenly as the CEO and pilots and dispatchers. Ours. We are its family.
“Good-lookin’ piece a tin, ain’t she?” Mark asked.
“Damn good-looking,” Nikki said.
“Let’s go aboard, then.” He got out of the truck and headed for the stairs. Mark was a large man with a big stride, but in their excitement, Nikki and the kids had no trouble keeping up. They entered the fuselage to the sounds of drills, saws and hammers as maintenance techs worked on installing a new and enlarged forward galley.
The 757 was completely reconfigured to hold one hundred and fifty seats, approximately forty fewer than capacity. Not only were there more first-class seats, the coach section was far roomier. The seats were black with alternating gold and silver piping, and the carpet was patterned in diamond shapes the same colors. Gorgeous tapestries with the New Century Air logo covered the bulkheads, and the spotlessly clean interior smelled like a new car.
“Wow,” Jared breathed, sitting down in one of the first-class seats.
April smoothed her hand over the rich black threads of the tapestry. “This is so beautiful.”
“Haven’t seen one this pretty in a long time,” Mark said around his cigar.
“I haven’t seen one this pretty ever,” April said. “I can’t believe it, Mom. You’re really going to be the chief pilot of this airline?”
Mark put an arm around Nikki’s shoulders as if he’d personally trained her for the job. “This here’s the boss,” he said.
Later, she would think about how bonding this experience was—taking her kids to the new airplane. Our airplane. No matter what else transpired, April and Jared were on her team, on the New Century team.
They had just come to look the place over. There was nothing that would make them go back.
“But Nicole,” Opal said, “are you sure you want to take on that much responsibility?”
“Oh, yes, Mother. Do you know how many people work their whole flying careers without ever getting a chance like this?”
“I suppose. But the children…You’ll need help with the children….”
Nikki smelled another extended visit coming on. She couldn’t make Opal stay away forever, but she could stall her. “The kids are fine. They’re helping me. Now, be a good mother and give me some time to get settled here before you come racing to Las Vegas. I’ll let you know the minute I can handle a visit. All right?”
“You act as though I presume on—”
“Mother! Promise!”
“Why, Nicole…”
“I need a little time and space to settle into the town, the job, the new life. If you show up unannounced, I’ll turn you right around and put you on the next plane home.”
Opal sighed heavily. “I do hope you’re not going to take too long. I never expected to see sixty, much less—”
I’m going to take as long as possible, she thought. “Of course not, Mother.”
Sometimes April felt a little guilty. Was she allowed to be happy this soon after her dad’s death? It was great to be able to spend time with her mom without the headache her dad would put everyone through. Everything was an issue with him, and he wouldn’t stop until absolutely everyone was as miserable as he was.
Of course she wasn’t glad he was dead. She missed him sometimes; she even found herself talking to him, reassuring him that everything was going all right. But now that she was older, she needed more time with her mother. Or more accurately, her mom needed more time with her, especially when it came to shopping.
The suites inn where they were staying was right off the Strip, one of the family places where there were no slot machines or smoky bars. They had a small suite with a large bedroom that held two double beds. There was also a living room with a pullout sofa and matching chair, and a kitchenette area that included a microwave, small fridge, table and four chairs. April and Nikki shared the bedroom; Jared kept his clothes in the bedroom and slept on the sofa bed at night. They hadn’t packed much, so it was time to shop for new school clothes. What they’d left behind at Papa’s would be shipped later, when they found a house.
After a couple of days of looking around the Las Vegas area, checking out the schools, neighborhoods and shopping, Nikki had to think about getting to work. “We’ve got to get you kids some new clothes,” she announced. “I should probably buy some things for myself, too, since I’m now in an executive position.”
April didn’t think much about that statement until later. They left a sulky Jared in front of the TV in the suite; he’d rather have a tooth pulled than go shopping with a couple of girls. This suited April fine. She’d be more than happy to pick out a few things for him if it meant she wouldn’t have to listen to him complain all day.
She was so much more like her father and maternal grandmother than her mom and Papa—she loved clothes, loved fashion. And the Vegas valley was proving itself up to her shopping standards.
After several hours with only a brief lunch break, Nikki and April were once again in side-by-side dressing rooms.
“Oh, Mom, wait till you see this,” April said. “It is so-o-o-o cool.”
“Show me,” Nikki invited.
April opened the door to Nikki’s room, and immediately forgot about the low-ride jeans and brief top she was wearing. Instead, she took one look at Nikki, slumped in the fitting room chair in a skirt, jacket and blouse, her socks still on her feet, and April suddenly knew she was now through shopping for herself, at least for a while.
“That’s the thirtieth blue suit you’ve tried on today,” April groaned. “And it’s every bit as gross as the last twenty-nine.”
“It doesn’t do much for me, either. But I’m going to have to buy something. I’ve been wearing a uniform for the past ten years.”
“Stand up,” April ordered. Nikki obliged. “Mom, the skirt’s too big, the jacket shoulders are too wide, and the blouse is too frilly. You basically look like you’re wearing your mother’s clothes.”
“I have a funny shape.”
“No, you don’t. You’re not trying the right sizes. I think you’re a petite. You’re kinda short…and short in the stride, too.”
“I don’t have the first idea what to try on.”
“Well, let me give you a hint. Not another blue suit.”
“I have to dress like a businesswoman.”
“Really? I met a couple of businesswomen at your office, and they didn’t look like that,” April said, a tone of disgust creeping into her voice.
Nikki knew that April could only be thinking of Jewel and a couple of other women who seemed to be imitating her style. “I can’t look like a flashy secretary. Believe me, there’s no room for sex appeal in this position. And I sure can’t look like one of the guys. By the same token, I have to be taken seriously, and I won’t garner much respect if I look like I’m wearing my mother’s clothes.”
“You have to start with the right size. I don’t think you’ve even noticed, but your jeans are hanging on you. You’ve lost weight since Daddy died.”
r /> Nikki pulled at the navy skirt. It was her usual size, but she was swimming in it. She thought back over the stress of the summer. If Drake’s death wasn’t enough, she had worked for weeks getting that house on the market. And then there’d been the excitement of taking on a dream job and moving the whole family. “Hmm,” she said. “Maybe I did, huh?”
“Two sizes,” April said. “On the bottom, anyway.”
Slumping back down in the chair, Nikki removed the clip that had held her naturally curly mane out of her face for the past many years and gave her tired scalp a ruffle. Then she pulled her hair back again and reclipped it. She looked up at April and shrugged.
April shook her head. “You’re going to need a little work.”
“But is there much to work with?”
“Oh, come on. I know what to do. The question is, are you going to let me?”
“I have only one stipulation,” Nikki said. “I’ll try anything you pick out for me, as long as I don’t look short and dumpy in it.”
“Why do you always say that?” April asked in frustration. “You aren’t short and dumpy. You’re petite and have a nice shape. Even better since you’ve slimmed down around the hips.” She gave her a sidelong appraisal. “You have a hot little figure.”
“I do?” It couldn’t be true.
“Who said otherwise?” April wanted to know.
Nikki didn’t answer. First her mother and later her husband. Both of them commented so often on her short legs, flat chest and wide hips that that was all she saw in the mirror. Nikki thought of herself as short and dumpy with a freckled face and kinky hair.
“You have a great figure, and it’s time to dress it,” April said. “And you have great skin and hair. You just have lousy taste. But don’t worry about it—I can’t fly as good as you. Now, take off that ugly suit and I’ll be right back.”
And so the assembly line began. April enlisted the help of a saleswoman, and between them they reassembled Nikki. First, they made her get rid of the tennies and sweat socks and don a pair of slimming panty hose. A bra with a little more uplift and foundation appeared. Then skirts, slacks, shirts, blouses, jackets, sweaters, pumps and scarves. Not a single navy blue suit was allowed in the fitting room. In fact, the colors were fabulous—April had a real eye for what would look good with Nikki’s red hair and light up her green eyes.
“And…as soon as we get your clothes for work, we’re going to do something about that hair.”
Nikki gulped. She imagined, fearfully, some punk cut with spikes. Since she’d never been able to control her hair, she’d been tucking it away under her captain’s hat. What other option was there? It had to be off her collar—that had been the uniform dress code.
The option turned out to be a layered cut, highlighted blond, that barely reached her collar and curled softly, not tightly, around her face. It took hours out of the next day, but the result was worth it. Nikki wondered why it had never occurred to either her or the woman who had been cutting her hair for fifteen years to try something different. Of course, she also wondered if she’d ever be able to fix it like that herself.
Next, at April’s insistence, came new makeup, along with lessons in applying eyeliner and lip liner and tips for keeping lipstick off your teeth, things Nikki had never gone to a lot of trouble about.
“That was before,” April said. “If we’re going to start a whole new life here, then we’re going to start it by looking good.”
“I can see your point,” Nikki admitted. “But you know I’ve never had an aptitude for this sort of thing.”
“I know,” April assured her. “That’s why you have me.”
For the first time in maybe her entire life, Nikki felt passably attractive. Not beautiful like April or Dixie, but no hag. Almost forty and pretty at last? How had she missed all this? Obviously Buck wasn’t the best person to teach her these refinements, but who had taught April?
“My peer group, teen magazines and MTV,” she said with a shrug, as though it was unimportant. “Now, listen, you don’t want to shock anyone at work, okay? You don’t want it to look like you’ve had a big makeover. So what you do is this—dress casual and wear a little makeup, like base and light lips. And every day you’ll upgrade a little. Go to the pantsuit with heels, then add eye makeup and wear a casual skirt. By the end of the first week, you’re ready for your first suit, the sage with the slit in the skirt. Get me? Then you’re where you want to be. Sort of like using Grecian Formula on your gray hair…slowly getting the gray out, so no one really sees it happening and they just learn to accept it. Got it?”
Nikki stared at her daughter, openmouthed. It was as much a science as this? She wasn’t sure she was up to the job.
April grabbed her mother’s biceps and gave her a little shake. “Mom! Snap out of it!”
“Sorry. I have to break them in to me looking good?”
“Yes. So they think that all that really happened is you got a haircut and you’re wearing your real clothes and not your uniform to work. They’ll be impressed by how beautiful you are and assume it was overlooked before on account of that manly uniform and barfy hat. And about uniforms…When you get the new ones at New Century, we’re getting tailored pants for the women. The ones Aries had are cut for a man. No wonder you felt dumpy.”
“You know, April, if you were as good at math as you are at fashion, I’d have to relent and admit you’re a genius. A purebred genius.”
Her daughter winked. “Some people wanna run the company, some people wanna dress the people who run the company.”
Buck flew up for the weekend and announced that he had taken a week off from Burgess Aviation to spend a little time with the kids before school started. While Nikki began the process of acclimating herself to her new job, Buck got the kids enrolled in school and took them on day trips around the area—Lake Mead, Mount Charleston, Zion National Park, Mesquite, Hoover Dam, Nellis Air Force Base. Evenings, they looked at real estate with the relocation expert provided by New Century.
It took only days for April to say, “I think there’s definitely a boat in my future. A nice big boat with plenty of skis.”
“And a place in the mountains for me,” Jared added. “For downhill skiing.”
The first day of her new job, Nikki followed April’s directions to the letter when she got ready for work. Even if she’d wanted to cut corners, the little matter of sharing a bedroom with her daughter would have put a stop to that. April insisted on helping with things like eyeliner and lip liner, and Nikki had to pass inspection before going off to work.
She started her second week at New Century Air with company ID, a benefits package, a parking card for the airport, as well as a reserved spot at the office building. She no longer had to stop at a security station, but gave a high-five to the guard. Office furniture was delivered, including silk plants and trees and a couple of prints for the walls. There was a new computer on her desk and a laptop in her briefcase, and she’d been given a new cell phone and nameplate on the door. Bob Riddle told her to see Human Resources about getting a secretary for Flight Operations and to pick up any pilot applications that had been floating in with the mail.
If New Century was going to make a November start-up, they’d have to hire the first couple of pilot classes immediately. In addition, the training department, crew scheduling and dispatch would have to be staffed.
Shanna Norris, the head of Human Resources, looked like a Jewel James wannabe. Her hair was bleached and flouncy, and there was a slit up the thigh of her leather skirt. The heels on her shoes were uncomfortably high and her nails dangerously long. Plus, she was one cold fish. Nikki sincerely hoped this wasn’t the kind of job where she’d be constantly dodging the nastiness of fancy women. All things told, she found them even less appetizing than chauvinistic men.
Upon request, Shanna handed over a folder containing the list and résumés of applicants for the job of department secretary who had passed the background checks and met th
e minimum requirements. “There are more than thirty. It’s my job to make sure they can work for this company and your job to make sure they can work for you. And Bob Riddle said you’d be asking for the pilot résumés that we’ve collected so far. Correct?”
“Yes. Thanks.” Nikki scanned the names on the list.
“Come with me,” Shanna said. She turned and walked ahead of Nikki down a corridor of cubicles in a manner she could only have copied from Jewel. When she finally stopped at one, she said, “Help yourself.”
Nikki looked into the small room, but all she saw were several boxes. “Where are they?” she asked.
“Right there. Do you want me to have a desk moved in here, or would you like to take them to your office?”
“Wait a minute,” Nikki said. “Where are the pilot résumés?”
“Right there,” she replied impatiently. “Those boxes.”
Nikki experienced a moment of terrifying clarity. There were, after all, a couple of hundred thousand commercial airline employees out of work since 9/11, but New Century Air wasn’t even certified to fly passengers yet!
“Have you any idea—”
“In the neighborhood of twelve thousand,” Shanna said curtly. “There’s a dolly in the janitor’s closet if you want to move them.”
“Holy God,” Nikki breathed. For an instant she felt the individual agony of each person captured on paper in those boxes. Out-of-work pilots with families to feed. Unemployed in an industry that seemed to be shrinking because of terrorism, war and a weak economy. It was like having her life flash before her eyes, except in this case it was the lives of twelve thousand qualified pilots who needed jobs. And that was probably the tip of the iceberg.
“Shanna, when did these start coming in?”
“Joe had one box full by the time I was hired to build the human resources department. The minute word got out that there was funding for NCA, they started pouring in.”
Nikki took the lid off one box and found it filled with stacked résumés. There were four huge boxes, all full, she assumed. She lifted the résumé on top and scanned it. “Amazing,” she said. This guy was forty-five, so he had a good fifteen years of flying left before he would be forced to retire at age sixty by FAA regulation. He had more than ten thousand hours, four thousand of them captain time in a large wide-bodied jet. He had worked for three airlines, the first two big companies who had furloughed employees and the third a post-deregulation start-up that had been quite successful, then was forced out of business by the effects of 9/11. Married, he had two teenagers, both college age. She hoped his wife had a good job.