Havana, Baby!

"You're gonna pay for it," he whispered as he playfully smacked my ass.

"Dammit, Robin! You made me think you were angry with me!"

His face showed immediate regret.

"Oh, Brandi! I'm sorry! I was only playing with you."

"Please, not like that, okay?"

"Never again," he said. "I love you, and I'm honestly sad we can't spend our first anniversary together. Like I said. You're going to owe me."

"I'm gonna owe you, alright. I'm going to 'big-O ' the hell out of you that day." I air-quoted the homonym and innuendo.

His gaze shifted and he stared at me.

"Say what?"

I removed my phone from my back pocket and opened the company's app. I selected an item on the main menu and swiped right to left before I turned the screen toward Rob.

He removed it from my hands and tilted himself so the phone would be in his own shadow.

"What the⁠—you got me a buddy pass to Havana? Cuba ?" he asked, his excitement hardly sheltered.

"You saw my schedule. I bump back to Lambert in the middle of day two. We'll be heading from there to Tampa and stay the night. That's your first pass. Then we overnight in Cuba on March 14 because of their weird regulations, then return to Tampa the next afternoon. We'll fly here for your final leg, and I finish the day with an out and back to Kansas City. I've secured your passes for those four legs if you want them, but only if you can get a visa expedited."

"Oh, freaking hell ! Absolutely!" he yelped giddily. "Spending our anniversary in an exotic locale with you? Just⁠—yes, please!"

"Done. And maybe Cuba will give you some ideas for Major Wright."

"Thank you, honey. Thank you!" He grinned. "I know it's the electronic age and all now, but it's our paper anniversary and I've arranged for an appropriate gift to commemorate it. It'll be delivered on the fourteenth, so you'll have to wait until you get home before you can have it."

"Oh?" I asked, completely curious. "Want to tell me what it is, or do I really have to wait?"

"Nope, it's a surprise. I think you'll like it."

"I'm sure I will," I easily replied.

ROBIN
St. Peters, Missouri
Thursday, March 12, 2020, approximately 7:00pm

"Check out this awesome view from my room," Brandi said as soon as I answered her FaceTime call. I knew she was somewhere near LaGuardia in New York City.

Her broad smile suggested I'd see something wondrous. When she reversed cameras and I saw only inky blackness behind the glass, I asked, "What am I looking at?"

"Nothing." She laughed. "Absolutely nothing . I'm pretty sure if I opened this window, I could touch the building next door. I swear there's maybe two feet between it and me. There's nothing to see except brick, but at least the room is nice."

She panned her phone in an exquisite tour of a space which couldn't have measured more than ten by fifteen feet. The cubicle I previously occupied at the KC Star was only slightly smaller.

"Oh, how cozy ," I groaned.

"Yeah, and they have the nerve to call it a suite . Every single crewmate I've flown with here has rated down this property to the company, but it doesn't seem like they're getting the message."

"Or cares."

"Considering you can now work from anywhere in the world, what would you say if I told you I'm thinking about moving bases here to New York City?"

"I'd say you've lost your ever-loving mind."

"You're a Midwesterner like me," she said with a laugh, "so never would I ever. You remember how to check in with your buddy pass tomorrow?"

"Yeah. I already have. I'll be in seat 3B."

"3B, huh? That brings back memories."

The previous spring, I was being flown around the country on a short book signing tour. I happened to be in seat 3B. Neither of us knew the other was aboard until the captain made the public address and mentioned the name of his first officer.

"Yeah." I grinned. "Tomorrow will be only the second time I've been on an airplane where you were doing yo thang , so I'll be judging your landings and posting them to Grant Robins's social media channel."

"Don't you dare!"

"You know I wouldn't. So, how's everything going? How's your crew?"

"Ugh."

"Ugh?"

"Yeah. Ugh . I haven't gotten to chat much with the folks in the back yet. My right seater … he's a competent pilot and all, but he's definitely not one for conversation. During our first leg, I asked him to tell me about himself. He said, 'Not much to say. Just fly the plane, ma'am.'"

I chuckled. "Yikes."

"Right? He called me ma'am !"

I simply stared into my wife's eyes through the phone. She was almost a thousand miles away, and I missed her. Being able to connect with her most evenings helped us both cope with the distance. I slept on her side of the bed with her pillows when she was away, and Tater slept at the foot of my usual side instead of being kenneled.

We chatted for a few more minutes before she hit the sack. Her crew had an early roust the next morning.

I returned to the office, re-read the emails from my publisher's agent regarding Book 4, all of which were begging me for the final chapters. I closed them almost as quickly as they were opened.

My single reply read:

Soon. I'm going on a trip with my wife for a few days. Maybe it'll clear my mind.

What I didn't say was that I wasn't just blocked, I was fully and completely seized up and mentally constipated. I knew I needed barely seven to ten thousand more words. I'd climbed halfway up Mount Denouement but couldn't find the summit.

I sorely wanted the break.

BRANDI
St. Louis, Missouri, Lambert International Airport
Friday, March 13, 2020 11:17am

"Good morning. Welcome aboard," spoke one of the attendants to passengers for probably the seventeenth time as Flight 542 bound for Tampa, Florida, boarded in St. Louis.

"Good morning to you, as well," I heard a response behind me.

The sheer masculinity of the man's voice yanked my attention away from interaction with the flight management computer. I craned my neck around to look behind me just in time to see my husband's smile and acknowledging wink, then his fine booty walk down the aisle.

"Hey, Tasha?" I spoke over my shoulder.

"Yes, Captain?" she answered, stepping into the cockpit.

"Do me a favor, please, and take extra good care of the guy in 3B?"

"That guy?" she asked, hooking her thumb over her shoulder, and looking back down the aisle.

From my seat, I couldn't see who she was pointing at, but I assumed it was Robin.

"If he sat in 3B."

"That's doing me a favor. He's gorgeous ," she hush-whispered.

I chuckled, smiling. "Yeah, he is, and he's my husband."

"No he isn't ," she scoffed with surprise showing in her eyes.

I laughed a little harder. "Try this. Go tell him his wife bids him hello from the flight deck and see if he argues."

"Captain, with all due respect," my first officer interrupted. "Can we get back to work?"

The purser rolled her eyes at the FO exaggeratedly before returning them to me. "I'm Nat . Natasha's cool, too, but La Tasha is aft."

I groaned. "I'm sorry, Nat. I'll try to do better. You both having the same last name doesn't help."

She gave an understanding and easygoing smile, went back to greeting our passengers, and I refocused my work on programming the FMC as I was to be the pilot monitoring for our second leg of the day.

The First Officer operated the flight perfectly and almost wordlessly other than those which were required.

"How many hours have you flown the '37?" I asked once the passengers began deplaning in Tampa.

"Quite a few, ma'am," he said.

I rolled my eyes.

ROBIN
Tampa, Florida, Tampa International Airport
Friday, March 13, 2020 3:06pm

"I swear, Rob, I think my FO is an android. I really do," Brandi said as I followed her through the jet bridge behind the last deplaning passengers.

Some remained aboard for the flight's continuation to Atlanta, but the plane would be re-crewed for that leg as Brandi's was time-limited and would overnight together.

"Yeah?"

"The guy even quizzed me on emergency procedures and gave me a 'pass' after we landed. He reminds me of that Data character from Star Wars."

"Star Trek , babe."

"Whatever. He's just … weird."

"You going to do-not-pair him?"

"Captains can't. Only FOs can. I wouldn't even if I could, though, because, like I said, he's a robot. He … operates? Yeah. He operates quite well. His competency rates way on up there. Hopefully, he swapped for this rotation because I don't know if I'll be able to stand flying next to him the rest of the month without going bonkers."

"Who landed the plane? Him or you?"

"He did."

"He scored a nine out of ten," I said.

I knew she would have smacked me but for the hundreds of other passengers in the terminal. If she'd been in plain clothes, she probably would have. Instead, I heard her low growl along with her sideways wry grin.

"You know what?" I whispered into her ear. "I'm definitely looking forward to hotel sex."

She laughed ruefully. "After how you scored my FO's landing?"

It required barely fifteen minutes for her crew to assemble at the shuttle stand. We were joined by another and filled the van. They were from a competing airline, and conversations quickly kicked off between them all with some good-natured smack talk.

"So, Mr. Grant, what do you do for a living?" asked one of the attendants who'd staffed our flight after Brandi introduced me to them.

"I'm an investigative journalist by trade and do some freelance stuff, but I've lately dabbled in writing fiction as a hobby for the last few years."

"Oh? What genre?" he asked.

"Know any authors with the name Grant?" Brandi said.

"Sure. There's Grant Robins, but Grant is his first name."

"And his first name is Robin," she added, tapping my shoulder.

"That's a funny coincid⁠—" He went silent for a beat.

"No. No way . You switched your name arou⁠—you're the author of the Mark Wright books?"

I chuckled and nodded. "Yep."

"Awesome. Mr. Grant, I loved your second book even more than the first. I've got Book Three on my waiting list and will definitely be preordering it as soon as it shows up on Amazon."

"I appreciate your kind words," I said, "but there's absolutely no need for formalities. Please, call me Rob. The Big A listed it for preorder yesterday. Its release date is the twenty-first of April."

He drew his phone out and excitedly tapped on its screen. "Yep! It's here … Unhinged and Unseen ? Your titles are so your lewk . Preorder … is … done."

Lewk ? Based on his apparent age, I knew I'd need to look the word up in the urban dictionary. Given his excitement, I decided to do him a favor. I was sitting alongside Brandi's professional circle, after all, and she'd helped me with mine.

"Cancel it. I'll send you an advance copy when we get back home if you'll give me your address, but there's one condition."

"Name it."

"Do me the favor of not revealing to everyone you know that I write under a pseudonym. Your captain doesn't need that kind of baggage following her to work."

Brandi chuckled quietly and slowly shook her head.

"You have yourself a deal," he agreed.

He brought up his info on his phone. Instead of having him text me the information, I snapped a photo of his screen because I didn't want to be in a contact card which could escape into the wild.

A well-worn paperback copy of Escaping the Depths was held in front of me with a pen tucked inside. "Data" was holding it.

"It'd be my pleasure," I said, taking it from him.

I opened it to the front flyleaf, but it was already full of scribbles, tittles, and jots. It appeared the copy had been passed around at least a dozen times. There were notes in different hands, inks, and styles. The book had apparently done a number of rounds. I couldn't imagine the guy being in any sort of book club, because such activities generally require conversation.

"No need for anything fancy. To Gregg with three gees and a signature would be appreciated," the man dryly stated. "Inside the back cover is good enough."

A bit off-putting, for sure. I considered returning it to him unsigned. Instead, I wrote "To Ggreg" and added my pen name under a stain which I truly hoped was only ketchup. Humility has boundaries, after all.

Brandi had watched me and was biting her knuckle as she redirected her eyes out the side window. I knew from her subtle body language she was painfully forcing away a bout of giggles.

I think the flight attendant who greeted me as I stepped aboard might have drawn the attention of the other carrier's FO during the ride. It appeared the interest was mutual because, when we arrived at the hotel and began to disembark the van, he helped her step out, took her bag, and walked inside with her. She displayed no hint of discomfort at his sortie into her airspace.

My wife also showed no discomfort with my own venture into hers once our door had latched. There was something so therapeutic about the first kiss we shared when we'd been separated by distance. True, it'd been barely two days, but it was a rite of sorts we were bound and determined to keep. I softly stroked her absolutely beautiful tush as we observed the tradition once again.

"Mm," she hummed after we'd shared ourselves with each other for several wonderful moments.

"Yeah?" I whispered.

"Always," she answered with a sweet, affectionate smile.

"I wonder if your purser and that three-stripe are doing the same thing."

"Possibly." She chuckled. "You noticed, huh?"

"I did. I mean, seriously. Does that happen a lot? Flight crews randomly hooking up?"

"More often than you might think," she scoffed. "It's crazy. Especially among the younger crowd."

"Do you know what lewk means?"

"No idea."

"Are we that old?"

"In our middle thirties? Apparently, we are," she said with a comical grin.

I was quiet for a few moments.

"Hey. Can I ask you a per⁠—a very personal question?"

"Sure, baby. Always."

"Did you ever hook up like those two, you know, like your purser?"

"Only once, and it didn't end well."

I immediately felt a pit in my stomach.

"Oh. Your former hus⁠—"

She nodded.

"Sorry I brought it up."

"Don't ever be, baby. But just for that, you're paying for dinner tonight," she said. "I know a great place within walking distance of here. Now, should I remove my uni myself, or would you like to help?"

My beautiful bride and I made love for the first time of the night. We coupled again when the stroke of midnight arrived.

"Happy anniversary," I whispered to her between kisses and slow, gentle thrusts into her silken warmth.

"Happy anniversary to you, too, Robin." She smiled. "I am so thankful for you."

BRANDI
Tampa, Florida. Sheraton Parkway Hotel
Saturday, March 14, 2020 9:03am

"I can't wait … for Havana! Havana, yeah ," my husband sang to the tune of Toto's Rosanna .

"You're excited, huh?"

"Oh yeah you know I am ."

"You are such a dork !"

"Oh yeah I know I am!" He then scatted the brass line's following bit.

I laughed almost to the point tears were coming. I loved the sound of his voice. It was so soothing when he sang to me, and his humorous impressions of Bublé, Connick, and Bieber slayed me.

"Come on, Rob. It's time to go."

He took my hands in his.

"Havana, baby, I want a little booty tonight, oh Brandi baby⁠—" he sang as he playfully pinched my buttcheeks, bringing me to him to dance to his reword of a Christmas song made famous by Eartha Kitt. Santa Baby was one of my mother's favorites.

"We really need to get downstairs," I said with a chuckle, taking his hand and leading him and our rolling cases to the door so we could all reconvene for the shuttle back to Tampa's airport.

Two uniformed individuals stepped off an adjacent elevator. I thought it kind of cute how they dropped each other's hands like hot rocks as soon as the doors opened at the lobby and saw coworkers looking their direction.

Four of six of my crew idly chit-chatted as the shuttle driver loaded bags. I had to thumb through the digital dispatch via my iPhone app to remember the name Robin had been told when he signed the back of a book.

"Has anyone seen Gregg?"

"Who's Gregg?" asked the purser.

"Our first officer," I answered.

Everyone shook their heads in a negative as I tapped the icon to place a call to crew scheduling.

"My FO hasn't shown up for the shuttle to the airport," I advised the agent after providing the required information.

"He didn't acknowledge his roust notification an hour ago, either, so expect a reserve to meet you."

"Okay, thanks."

On wrapping up the call, I updated the rest of the crew, and we boarded the waiting shuttle.

Robin stayed behind at the gate as we prepped our Havana-bound 737-800.

"Hello again, Captain Grant," said a familiar face already on the flight deck when I arrived.

"Hey, Mack! Wow! Our FO was a no-show this morning, so this is a pleasant surprise! What are the odds? It's good to see you again."

"I've been stuck here in Tampa for two days. Since flights are pretty much all over-booked, I couldn't get a deadhead back home, so I volunteered for short reserve to at least get paid something for sitting around. Great to fly with you again, too."

"I've been flying with an android for the last two weeks. It's a welcome change to have a real human back on the flight deck with me."

He lightly laughed. "Thank you, Captain. I've already done the walk-around and programmed the FMC. Time en route is just under ninety minutes, and I entered the gate-to-gate estimate at an hour and forty-five."

"Sucks, doesn't it? We get only one hundred five minutes on our paychecks, and are forced to stay overnight becau⁠—"

"I'm not complaining. Going to Cuba is worth it. I think this is the fifth or sixth time I've been there." He grinned.

"Luck of the draw, right?" I agreed. "This is my first. I'm sort of looking forward to it, too. Anything I need to be brought up to speed on about their airspace or the approaches?"

He nodded an affirmative, then filled me in on what we might expect. His insights were absolutely invaluable, and I appreciated his willingness to share instead of forcing my own baptism by fire. His crew resource management skills were impeccable.

Twenty minutes later, the doors of the plane were closed and secured.

I was pilot flying. Mack was monitoring which meant he was the one working the radios.

"Tampa Clearance, Spark 1171 to Havana, information golf."

"Spark 1171, cleared to Havana via GANDY EIGHT departure, SABEE transition, then as filed. Climb four thousand, expect flight level two niner zero one zero minutes after departure. Squawk four two one five, departure frequency one one niner point six five."

"Cleared to Havana, GANDY EIGHT, SABEE, then as filed. Four thousand, flight level two niner zero after ten, squawk forty-two fifteen, departure is nineteen sixty-five, Spark 1171."