Page 11 of Forever Flustered

People are supposed to be happy at weddings…aren’t they? He looked happy… and lost, she realized in disbelief and amazement. It was there, right there, in his eyes and in that expression – the man looked like someone had stolen every ounce of hope from him, which felt so confusing. Was he interested in the bride? If so, that would take a lot of nerve to show up at the wedding and sit in the front row.

“You should go talk to him,” Harley urged softly, giving her a knowing smile as Maureen turned to look at the woman in amazement. “We can talk later.”

“I came to talk to you,” Maureen stressed pointedly. “I don’t know him, but I’m here because I want to know how to make my business take off like you did with Flyboys. This place is such a small town and…”

“Be yourself,” Harley replied, interrupting her and smiling. “You have to be yourself, be present when people are around, and be happy. When you love something, when you give it your all, and everyone else has the same beliefs as you… then everyone starts pulling for you to succeed. It’s not one person, but a community of people who love this idea, this place, as much as you do – and they spread the word.”

“So… it’s advertising?”

“It’s word of mouth from people who love the feelings that they get from the moment they show up at Flyboys for their first or fifteenth flight,” Harley stressed, smiling at her. “They feel happy, incredible, and we treat them like they’re a part of our family – because they are. If you want your business to take off, show them who you are… and where you fit into their lives.”

“I don’t understand…” she hesitated as Harley patted her hand knowingly.

“I know, but you’ll have to trust me – and…”

“And what?” Maureen interrupted quickly, seeing Harley’s husband was now holding the toddler who had just woken up from her nap when everyone cheered. She hadn’t even realized that Harley had given him the little girl because she was so distracted by that man. People were getting to their feet and clearing the chairs out of the way for whatever reception they had planned. The little girl already was looking for her Mommy – which meant that her time talking to Harley Sloan was nearly at an end… again.

This woman was hard to pin down for a conversation – and that talk was yielding little results, she thought, feeling adrift and alone. Honestly, this was the weirdest business consultation – or wedding – ever.

“And,” Harley stressed in a knowing way, making her feel like a mom addressing her errant daughter even though the two women weren’t far apart in age at all. “We’ll talk again next week, but only if you go check on Archangel for me.”

“Who?” She responded immediately and then did a double-take. “Wait, that dude’s name is actually Archangel?”

“We go by call signs,” Harley chuckled and gave her a wink like she was letting her in on some big secret. “And there’s a reason behind all of them, so go find out his… then come by for coffee – no appointment necessary.”

Maureen’s mouth dropped open in surprise at the friendliness of the invitation that came so easily as Harley accepted her daughter and gave her husband a kiss. It was only moments before the woman was surrounded, being pulled away by the group that was quickly talking with her in hushed voices.

Turning, Maureen saw Archangel talking with the groom in the distance before setting down the little boy onto the ground – who immediately ran off. The bride and groom shared a smile before nodding to the man, walking away.

Archangel was alone – and again that stoic look that revealed little emotion was back. He stood there, watching the group keenly, only to see his eyes slide toward hers. There was a flicker in those depths, but only for a moment before they moved on, like he was observing the surroundings and measuring it for possible danger – but what could be dangerous out here in Yonder, at Flyboys flight school, or was it because… wait!

Her thoughts seized.

Her breath caught in recognition and awareness as her lips parted in shock with a sudden comprehension of what she was witnessing. She looked around, saw the groups, the cliques, and then looked back at Archangel.

He was standing alone.

A wallflower at a dance - literally.

Archangel wasn’t assessing or measuring what was happening with a blank and uncaring stare. He was observing, drinking it all in, because he wanted to be a part of it - and didn’t feel like he belonged. He was wearing the same uniform as most of the men present, despite the different doodads, ribbons, medals, and other markings - but he wasn’t one of ‘them’. He was in the Air Force, a flyboy… that wasn’t one of ‘the flyboys’.

That struck a chord within her.

As a woman who stood on the wall at several school functions, went to her high school prom alone just so she didn’t miss the event, and had attended more than a few weddings as a guest – it always sucked to be stuck on the wall, waiting for someone to come strike up a conversation. The ones that usually came to talk to her were the guys who had grown desperate enough to give it a try, expecting to be shot down. Unfortunately for her, they seemed to always be the creeps, the nerds, or the guys with bad breath - potentially even worse bodily hygiene. At that thought, Maureen lifted her hand to her mouth and breathed into it, quickly sniffing to do a breath check before realizing what she’d done – and wincing.

“Minty fresh – which means I’m the creep. Fan-freakin-tastic,” she muttered aloud, rising to her feet and eyeballing the man she’d been asked to speak to. He was standing there stiffly, his hands clasped behind him, his chin lifted a little, giving him an arrogant look, almost like he was looking down his nose at the world. I’ve got your number, buddy, she thought, moving in his direction, and then caught a movement in the distance.

Glory, Abbykins, and three other women were standing there in an obvious huddle watching her. The second she made eye contact, several of them gave her a thumbs-up in encouragement, one clapped her hands in excitement, and another was pointing with both hands almost like she was making hand pistols in Archangel’s direction, like some gauche, redneck cowboy.

Ughhh… really?

Maureen slapped her forehead in dismay and disbelief that they were being so blatant about all of this – which she was now realizing was an obvious setup. Matchmaking? Seriously? She shot a look at Archangel, whose expression tightened as he looked away. Yep, he knows it too, she thought grimly, and the dude looks about as happy about it as a person who just took a big healthy swig of curdled milk.

She took a step toward him – and immediately his face turned toward her like a frightened animal sensing a threat. Interesting, she thought silently and took another step, only to see his stance break. Uh oh. His hands behind his back suddenly moved to his sides, almost like he was about to bolt - and she paused, turning to look the other direction. She immediately began pretending something caught her eye… and it did.

Glory had pulled up a chair, taking a seat, and was leaning forward eagerly talking to a man beside her – who was holding up a cell phone and recording the whole thing. Incensed beyond belief, Maureen held up a middle finger long enough for the man’s eyes to look over the top of the cell phone just as a titter of laughter began from several onlookers who’d noticed the whole thing.

Yeah, this was a heckuva set-up, and I’ve belly-flopped right into it, she thought grimly. Tactful and ladylike. Goooo, Me…