“I just got off the phone with Cessna. You are the proud contractor of two jet airplanes, one to be delivered the day you finish your training, the other in eight and a half months.” He read the terms.

“That’s wonderful,” Laurence said, sounding fully awake now.

“They’re e-mailing me the contracts for both airplanes. Why don’t you stop by late this afternoon and sign them.”

“Five o’clock?”

“Perfect. Did you confirm your training dates?”

“I did. I fly out tomorrow in a Cessna jet and start at eight AM the following day.”

“I spoke to Pat Frank. Your new mentor will meet you in Wichita on graduation day, having picked up the airplane at the factory that morning. He’ll also have spent the three previous days doing acceptance flights, which is when he looks for defects and gets them corrected.”

“Great. I’m going to do some flying with him after that, to put some hours in my logbook.”

“Good idea. How’s the apartment?”

“Looks like I’ve always lived here.”

“Good. See you this afternoon.”

“Certainly.” They hung up.

—

THERESA WOKE UP LATE and went into the kitchen to make her breakfast. She opened the tea canister and found more than tea: an IOU from Butch for $200 and nothing else. She stormed into his room and found the bed unslept in and what clothes he owned, gone. She decided it was worth the $200 to get rid of him. She sat down and called a neighborhood locksmith and arranged to have her front door lock changed. He promised to come the following day.

Later, as she was washing her breakfast dishes, the phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Theresa, it’s Carl Winger, in Personnel.”

“Good morning, Carl.”

“I thought you’d like to know, I just hired your brother, Harold—or Butch, as he prefers to be known.”

“My goodness.” She wanted to tell Carl to keep Butch away from cash registers.

“We’re going to give him a few weeks of switching departments, starting in shoes, and then, if I’m any judge of material, he’ll be ready to work in any department at any store. He’s on his way now to the shoe shop at the Seventy-second Street store.”

“Well, I’m glad it worked out, Carl.”

“Thank you for sending us such a good candidate.”

“You’re welcome.” She hung up feeling guilty. Butch was going to screw this up; she just knew it, and it would be her fault.

—

LAURENCE KNOCKED on Stone’s office door at five sharp. “Is this the airplane store?”

“You’re in the right place. By the way, did you bring your checkbook?”

“Always in my pocket.”

Stone sat him down and placed two stacks of documents before him. “You have a pen?”

Laurence held up his silver Montblanc. “Courtesy of Woodman & Weld.”

“Then start signing. Joan has marked the places with green tabs.”