...........................................................................................Time passed slowly I've no idea how many times I had glance... at theclock. I had even defied Mom's orders a bit and sneaked outside for acigarette from a pack I had planted in the holdall while she was notlooking. The thing was it was different no one had really cast a glanceat the boy smoking a cigarette on deck, not the same way that Tracey hadgotten the odd glance from a passing gentleman.It was getting. “And that’s the plane you usually fly.”“Oh, it’s not that bad. I learned in that one. I fly a Cessna 402 quite a bit.”“Closer,” he said.We pulled up close to our plane. I bounded out and clamped around Dan.“What’d you do, little one?” He asked.“All sorts of things, baby.” I looked, saw Mister Lackman approaching. “Dan, Mister Dennis Lackman. Mister Lackman, my husband Dan Richards.”I must be getting old. Mister Lackman didn’t blink at the ‘husband’ comment. Wait a minute. I already told him. More

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