"THE MANY LOVES OF RAFE McCAWLEY"
PART 5 - "Three on a Date"
LONG ISLAND, NY; DECEMBER 1940 . . . Danny heaved a sigh and shook his head in disbelief. "What was I thinking? I can't believe that I thought Fenton Marsh was the right girl for you."
"We all thought so, Danny." Rafe slapped his friend's back. "Hell, I even wanted to marry her."
"At least you had doubts about her." Once again, Danny shook his head. Then he noticed one of the nurses, a pretty redhead with glasses, staring at them. "Uh Rafe, I think we've rested long enough. That nurse is staring to give us the bug-eye."
Rafe frowned at Danny. "Wha. . .?" Then he spotted the nurse. "Oh. Gee, I wonder how long she's been staring at us?"
Danny shrugged. "Who knows? You know, she reminds me of someone. I . . ." The pilot paused, as memories of a restaurant in Manhattan came back to him. He recalled another pretty redhead, only this one had green eyes. Danny also recalled something else - Rafe's nervous behavior whenever she was around.
The two friends walked over to the station where the red-haired nurse awaited them. "Say Rafe," Danny began, "do you remember that girl you used to date over a year ago. What was her name? Uh, Julie . . . God, what was her name? Julie . . ."
A sigh left Rafe's mouth. Julie Fisher. Yeah, I remember her."
"She had seemed like a nice girl," Danny continued. "Why did you two break up?"
Both Danny and Rafe reached Station 2, and joined the other patients in line. Danny noticed that same nervous look from the past year. "Rafe? You okay?"
"Danny, the story I am about to tell, you will find too incredible to believe. And when I finish, I don't know if you're going to be pissed . . . or relieved."
* * * *
MANHATTAN ISLAND, NEW YORK; MAY TO AUGUST 1939 . . . The five pilots emerged from Grand Central Station and paused in the middle of the sidewalk. "Man-hattan!" Second Lieutenant Anthony Fusco declared with enthusiasm. "It's good to be home!"
The fair-haired Billy Thompson rolled his eyes. "Home for you is Brooklyn, moron. So please spare us that shit-eating grin. You look like a hick."
Oh Lord! Rafe heaved an inward sigh. Here it comes. Another fight. How could two men who were the best of friends, argue so damn much? "While you two are busy jawing over Anthony's birthplace, why don't we check into our hotel first, so we can find a place to eat? I'm starved."
The pilots immediately agreed with Rafe's suggestion and hailed two cabs that conveyed them to the St. Mark's Hotel. After they checked in, Danny suggested that they eat dinner in the hotel's restaurant. But the others wanted to go out on the town. Anthony suggested one of Manhattan's most infamous restaurants - Lindy's. "It has the best cheesecake ever," he added. "And other stuff."
"Sounds like a good idea," Rafe commented. "Anyone got a problem with Lindy's?"
Billy spoke up. "I do. Isn't Lindy's supposed to be a hangout for gangsters?"
"Ga-ga-gansters?" Red Winkle said. He was a gangly redhead, whose nervous disposition usually expressed itself in a stammer. M-m-ma-maybe we sh-should g-g-go s-s-s-som-mmewhere else."
Anthony dismissed Red's concerns with a wave of his hand. "Somewhere else? Forget about it! Gangsters or no gangsters, everyone goes to Lindy's." The others agreed and decided to accept the dark-haired officer's suggestion. Still dressed in their uniforms, they headed left the hotel and headed for the nearest subway.
If Lindy's was a hangout for gangsters, Rafe did not see any signs of them - much to his relief. He really did not relish the idea of eating dinner in the company of hardened criminals. But as an officer and gentleman of the U.S. Army Air Corps, he did not feel it was appropriate for him to skulk away from danger. Even if it came in the form of thugs. The pilots found a booth near the entrance and sat down. The restaurant seemed very busy. Fortunately for the five officers, they did not have to wait very long for service. Rafe ordered grilled pork chops with mashed potatoes, green beans, rolls and coffee.
"Where do we g-go from here?" Red asked his fellow pilots. "I mean, it's only seven fifty-four."
Billy spoke up. "How about the '21' Club? Or the Stork Club?"
"Why don't we try the ballroom at the Waldorf-Astoria, while we're at it?" Anthony retorted sarcastically. "Do you have any idea how expensive those places are? Maybe we should try the Savoy Ballroom."
A nervous Red added, "Isn't that in Ha-Harlem?"
"So?" Anthony stared at the redhead, who blushed profusely. "Gotta problem with that? I used to there all the time, when I was in high school and college."
"Y-y-you mean, th-they don't mind people like us be-be-being there?"
Anthony heaved a sigh and rolled his eyes. "If they did, do you think I would have been able to visit there in the first place? Geez Red! Think!" The other pilot's face now matched the color of his hair.
The waiter finally returned with their dinner. Rafe enjoyed the delicious grilled pork chops, along with the conversation between him and his fellow pilots. They discussed the numerous nightspots in Manhattan, the pilot training course they were enrolled, the political calamities around the world, and the possibility of war. Rafe was among the first to finish his meal. Feeling the pressure to relieve himself, he headed for the restroom. Five minutes later, he left the Men's Room and bumped into a couple engaged in a heated quarrel.
"The answer is no, Marty! How many times do I have to tell you?" She was a pretty woman in her mid-twenties. Lustrous red hair formed a shoulder-length bob. Her aquiline nose spared her face from the usual bland prettiness. Along with the green eyes that flashed angrily.
Marty, a brutish-looking man of medium height and obviously a low I.Q., sneered at the young woman. "C'mon Julie! Don't play the shy young thing with me. We both know what you're really like. Don't we?"
"You don't know anything about me!" the young woman named Julie retorted. "So I suggest that you let go of my arm!"
Unfortunately, Marty did not seem interested in releasing Julie. His meaty hand remained clamped around her slender wrist. Rafe, who had been raised to be a Southern gentleman, decided it was time to come to the young lady's rescue. He stepped forward and tapped the hulk's shoulder. "Hey buddy," he said, "why don't you let go of the lady's wrist. She's not interested."
Both Julie and Marty slowly turned their gazes upon the Army officer. Laughter tumbled out of the young man's mouth. "The lady? Oh brother! If you only knew!" He eyed Rafe's uniform with derision. "Now get lost!"
Julie's face turned pink and Rafe's sympathy toward her increased tenfold. "I don't care if she's one of Polly Adler's girls! She obviously don't want you touching her, so let go!" Rafe glared at Julie's tormentor.
An arrogant and smug smirk stamped on his face, Marty shot back, "Look here, Soldier Boy, I'm gonna count to three. And if you're not gone, I'm gonna . . ."
Rafe's fist snaked out and clipped the other man's chin. Marty sank to the floor like a stone in water. And gave Julie the opportunity to free her wrist from his grasp. Rafe smiled at the fallen man. "Well, I reckon that's the end of that." He turned his smile toward Julie.
"I guess so." Julie smiled back. "Say, do you have any plans for tonight?"
"Well, I'm with some friends at the moment. But we can't decide where to go."
Julie paused momentarily, giving Rafe a thoughtful look. "I know this little jazz club on 66th Street. Would you like to . . .?"
Rafe did not even give Julie a chance to finish. "That sounds swell. Let me tell the boys." He started toward the dining room.
"Oh, wait a minute!" Julie paused. "I was thinking of us going together . . . alone." Then she added. "If you don't mind."
If Rafe had to be honest with himself, he did not mind. Especially if it meant spending time alone in the company of this beauty. He shrugged his shoulders and replied, "Sure." He started toward the dining room, with Julie close at his heels. They reached the table, where the other pilots sat. All eyes fell upon Rafe's new companion. "Hey guys! This is Julie. Julie Fisher." Rafe then proceeded to introduce her to Danny and the others. When he finished the introductions, Rafe continued, "If you all don't mind, Julie and me are going out on the town. Alone."
A sly smile creased Anthony's mouth. "Hey, we all understand. Don't we boys?" He glanced at the others, who nodded. Rafe tried not to pay attention to the slight disappointment on Danny's face.
"Okay then . . . swell," Rafe said uneasily. "I reckon I'll see you all, later." He shot one last glance at Danny and quickly guided Julie out of the restaurant.
* * * *
Miss Julie Fisher proved to be congenial company for Rafe. While they shared a table at a small jazz club in Soho, the couple exchanged life stories. Rafe told Julie about his Tennessee childhood, his friendship with Danny and their decision to become Army pilots. Julie talked about her childhood in upstate New York, her ambition to be a journalist, and her job at LIFE magazine.
"Which is?" Rafe asked. Sounds of Billie Holiday singing "Some Other Spring" filled the background.
Julie smiled. "Copy girl. But one of the editors think I have a chance at becoming a staff writer within a year or two. I'm keeping my fingers crossed."
Rafe then brought up the subject of Marty. He wanted to know how Julie had met him. According to the redhead, she met Marty at a dance club in the East Village. "He was . . . fun, at first. But I . . ." Her face turned red. "I guess I simply got bored with him. He turned out to be a little too boorish for my taste. If you know what I mean."
"Yeah, I reckon I got a little glimpse of his 'charming' personality," Rafe said with a chuckle. Julie joined in the laughter, and the pair resumed their easy camaraderie. The evening wore on. Rafe and Julie eventually left the club and ended outside Julie's brownstone in the Village.
The warm May air surrounded them, as Rafe impulsively leaned forward and planted a firm, but light kiss on Julie's lips. A stunned expression appeared on her face, leaving Rafe to wonder if he had went to far. Until a bright smile stretched her lips. Still smiling, Julie leaned forward, wrapped her arms around Rafe's neck and kissed him. Hard.
A minute or two passed before the couple finally separated for air. Breathing heavily, Julie seared Rafe with a sultry look and whispered, "So, would you like to come upstairs for a cup of coffee?"
* * * *
The following Monday morning found Rafe, Danny and their fellow squad members, striding toward the airfield at Mitchell Field. "So, how was your date with Julie? Did you have fun?" Danny's voice radiated forced cheerfulness.
Rafe glanced at his best friend and noticed the tight expression on the latter's face. "Yeah, uh, it was great. Swell." He paused. "I see that you've finally decided to talk to me."
Danny rolled his eyes. "Well, you know Rafe, I'm trying to forget that you had abandoned the rest of us on Friday night," he snapped. "So, why don't you just tell me how your date went?"
"Aw, c'mon Danny! I didn't mean to abandon you guys! It's just I couldn't pass up the chance to be with a girl like Julie!"
Danny abruptly halted in his tracks, causing Rafe to collide into him. "You could have called us, Rafe! Let us know that you would be with her for the rest of the weekend. But you didn't leave a word or nothing! Just showed up at the hotel, three hours before we were supposed to check out!"
Rafe warily eyed his friend. "Uh, Danny? Not only are you beginning to sound like a jealous lover, you're also giving me the heebie-jeebies."
"Goddamit Rafe!" Danny glared at the older man. "It's not . . . I'm not like that and you know it!" He let out a big sigh. "It's just . . . well, excuse me for being a worry wart, but you didn't leave a message, or anything. And by the way, we were all worried."
Nodding, Rafe said, "Okay, I understand. I won't do that again. I swear. Besides, Julie would like to get know all of y'all the next time we have furlough."
"Oh?" The two friends resumed their walk to the field.
Rafe added, "Yeah. We were thinking of all of us spending the day at the World's Fair."
"Sounds great," Danny replied. He paused. "Does Julie know any girls?"
* * * *
Fortunately for Rafe's fellow pilots, Julie managed to find dates for them. Two weeks had passed since their last trip to New York City. They spent a glorious day at the fair grounds in Flushing, Queens. Later that evening, the group found themselves at the Shubert Theater, which featured the "Streets of Paris" revue and the newest sensation from Brazil, Carmen Miranda. Once the show ended, Rafe and Julie bid the others good-bye and headed for her apartment for more intimate entertainment.
After they enjoyed an hour or two of vigorous lovemaking, the pair laid back on the bed, breathing heavily. A light breeze from the open window cooled their warm and damp skin. "I never said this before," Rafe said, "but you have a very nice apartment. Sort of big for someone working as a copy girl. LIFE magazine must pay you a nice salary. I wish I could say the same about the Army."
"Actually, I can't really afford this place on my own," Julie replied. She propped herself on her left side, facing Rafe. "I have a roommate."
Rafe rose into a sitting position. The moonlight beamed through the window and onto his broad chest. "Roommate? Strange, I didn't know you had one, the last time I was here."
"Carrie . . . her name is Carrie Menlow . . . is out of town, right now. She's a secretary for a steel manufacturer," Julie explained. "She's in Canada. Montreal, I think. She's due back in town, next week. I think. She's . . . very pretty."
A sly smile plastered on his face, Rafe situated himself on his left side. "Hmm, now I can't wait to meet her."
"Oh you!" Giggling, Julie slapped Rafe's arm. Then she pulled him toward her. "Come here."
"Yes ma'am," Rafe murmured. He then lowered his mouth upon hers.
* * * *
Rafe's introduction to Julie's roommate came about on the following weekend. And it happened in a manner that took him by surprise. He and Julie were in bed that Friday night, enjoying each other's company with passionate kisses and caresses, when the bedroom door suddenly swung open.
"What's this?" a female's voice asked. Both Rafe and Julie ended their foreplay and stared at the figure standing in the doorway. Rafe had to admit that she was one of the most beautiful women he had ever laid eyes upon. Shoulder-length blond hair curled into a bob, creamy white skin, wide china blue eyes and full lips. And had never seen so many curves on a figure that small. "Julie," she continued in a voice that hinted East Coast aristocracy, "aren't you going to introduce your friend?"
Julie sat up, allowing the sheet to slide to her waist. Rafe wondered if she realized that she was baring all to her friend. "Hi Carrie, this is Rafe. Rafe McCawley. You know, the pilot I had told you about. Rafe, this is my roommate and best friend, Carrie Menlow."
"Oh yes." Carrie stepped forward. Her eyes roamed lavisciously over the pilot. "The one from Tennessee. I really must visit the South, one of these days. Well," a knowing smile touched her lips, "don't let me interrupt you two. Nice meeting you, Rafe." The smile still fixed on her lips, Carrie closed the door behind her.
Rafe let out a gust of breath. Julie stared at him. "Something wrong?"
"No, it's just . . ." An embarrassed Rafe paused. "Well, with her barging in like that, I feel as if my mama had caught me with my . . . you know."
Julie giggled. Then she pecked Rafe's cheek. "Silly boy! I'm sorry if Carrie surprised you like that. She does have this habit of barging in. But don't let it bother you. It's just Carrie being herself."
* * * *
Rafe could not help but feel bothered. But he kept his misgivings to himself. And when Julie began planting kisses over his face, he soon forgot about her disturbing roommate, Carrie. Nearly two hours later, the memory of Julie's roommate struck back with the force of a tornado. Which would be Rafe's way of describing the impact of a second warm body pressing against his right side. A body that did not belong to Julie.
"What the . . .?" Rafe's eyes flew open. Shock overcame him, as he noticed Carrie's body beside his. Her naked body. Jackknifing into a sitting position, he cried out, "What the hell are you doing here?"
His outburst awaken Julie. She sat up and rubbed her tired eyes. "Something wrong?" she asked in a sleepy voice. Then she saw Carrie. "Oh."
"Julie, honey," Carrie oozed sweetly, "do you mind if I join you two?"
Rafe protested hotly, "I mind, dammit!" Noting her nude state for the second time, he continued, "And what the hell do you think this is? Some damn whorehouse?"
Carrie assumed a wounded expression. "What's wrong? Don't you like me?" She glanced at her roommate. "I thought he liked me, Julie."
Sympathy and a touch of anxiety mingled in Julie's green eyes. Her hand reached past Rafe's body to touch her friend's arm. "Of course he does, sweetie. He's just a little surprised. Right Rafe?" Her eyes pleaded with Rafe.
No! The word hovered on Rafe's lips, but he found himself unable to say it. Especially with Carrie's hand caressing his inner thigh. "This is wrong!" his mind screamed. By the outcry in his head quickly died down, as Carrie's caresses became less subtle. And Julie began to kiss his face . . . again.
"Please Rafe," Julie murmured between kisses, "let Carrie stay." She gave him a lingering kiss on the mouth. "You won't regret it. I swear." Then Julie gently forced Rafe flat on the bed and kissed him once more. A gasp left nearly left Rafe's mouth, as Carrie's lips replaced the hand on his thigh. Oh well, he thought, whoever said that surrender does not necessarily meant defeat, knew what he was talking about.
* * * *
". . . date with Bianca," Anthony was saying. He and the other members of his squad sat inside the Officers' Mess at Mitchell Airfield, eating dinner. The Brooklyn-born pilot wore a smug smile on his face. "It seems I got a letter from her, asking me if I was available for next Saturday night."
Billy looked up at his friend. "Lucky bastard," he growled. "I haven't heard from Sheila at all. I've left her five phone messages in the last three days and haven't heard a peep from her. Nothing. I mean, what does she think I have? The crabs or something?"
Anthony's smile grew even more smug. "Well, do you?" he asked, earning a glared from the blond pilot.
Rafe ignored his friends' conversation. His mind was fixed on something else. Namely, the last three weekends with Julie and Carrie. Rafe did not know whether to feel surprised or ashamed by the fact that he had not resisted the roommates' suggestion of a ménage a trios. Did that mean in spite of his parents' efforts to raise a decent Southern gentleman, they had begat a pervert?
". . . have to wor . . . worry about a . . . a date." Red's voice interrupted the Tennessean's thoughts. "R-Right Rafe?"
Rafe stared at his fellow pilots with bafflement. "Huh?"
A jab into his side by Danny followed. "C'mon Rafe, wake up! Red's talking about Julie." He frowned at the other man. "Something wrong?"
"Huh? Oh, no! Nothing's wrong," Rafe protested half-heartedly.
"Are you sure? You seemed distracted." Danny paused. "You and Julie having problems?"
If you only knew, Rafe silently responded. Instead, he shook his head. "No, uh . . . I was . . . I was thinking of something else. About today's flight maneuvers."
Anthony shook his head, while he regarded Rafe with admiration. "Geez McCawley! When it comes to flying, you're all business. A real ace." Rafe barely heard him.
While the others continued talking, Danny leaned over and whispered in Rafe's ear. "Okay - Ace - what's the real problem?"
"Meaning?" a self-conscious Rafe hissed back.
Danny gave the older man a knowing look and murmured, "Meaning, if you're really thinking about today's maneuvers, you would be gabbing away. And not keeping it to yourself."
Rafe shot his best friend a dark look. There were times he wished that Danny did not know him so well. Like now. "Look, it's not . . ." He paused, longing to find a way to end this conversation. Glancing out of the window, Rafe spotted a familiar figure walk by. "It's not what you think. Uh, look Danny, can we finish this later? I have . . . there's someone I need to see." He stood up and walked away, ignoring the stares of the other pilots.
Outside the Officers' Mess, Rafe rushed after the man he was looking for - one Sergeant Lynn Greiger. "Sergeant? Sergeant!" Rafe cried out.
The sergeant paused in his tracks, spotted the approaching young officer and immediately stood at attention. He was a short, wiry man in his late 30s. "Lieutenant?" Greiger's craggy face remained impassive, as he saluted. "May I help you sir?"
Breathing heavily, Rafe returned the salute. "At ease, Sergeant." He hesitated, as he contemplated his next words. "Uh, may I have a few moments with you? Privately?"
Greiger frowned. "Of course, sir. Shall we walk?" He indicated the direction of the base's Administration building. The pair continued walking. "So, Lieutenant, how may I help you?"
Rafe finally asked, "Uh, Sergeant, are you married?"
After a momentary pause, Greiger warily replied, "Divorced, sir. Twice. My former wives . . . they didn't exactly like being married into the service."
Nodding, Rafe continued, "Do you hang out . . . I mean, I guess you're very popular with women. Right?"
"Uh . . . yeah." Greiger's frown deepened. "Look Lieutenant, what's this all about?"
Rafe found himself unable to meet the sergeant's eyes, when he finally blurted out, "Sergeant, have you ever thought about being with . . . more than one woman? At the same time?"
Greiger's eyes popped out in shock. He stared at Rafe for what seemed like one long moment. Then a bright smile split his craggy face. "You must have heard those stories about me, Lieutenant. I'll tell you this . . . they're true. Hell, not only have I thought about more than one woman, I've had this happened to me on several . . ." His voice faded way. Greiger seemed aware that he was speaking to an officer. "What I meant was . . . I haven't really experienced anything like that, but . . ."
Rafe sighed with frustration. "It's okay, Sergeant. You have my permission to reveal your deepest and darkest secrets."
"Yes sir! Anyway, as I was saying," Sergeant Greiger continued in a matter-of-fact tone, "I've experienced . . . sex . . . with more than one woman on a few occasions." Rafe stared at him. "Okay, on several occasions."
The young officer urged the sergeant to continue. "What happened?"
"Well sir, I met these two women who sort of introduced me to the experience. It was enjoyable for a while. But in the end . . ." Greiger shook his head. "It just didn't last. Maintaining a relationship like that is damn difficult, sir. With three people involved, one person is bound to feel left out sometime during the . . . uh, . . . you know, act. Soon, jealousies pop up and it's all over in one messy fight. If you're gonna have a . . . well, be with two women at the same time, make sure it's a one shot deal." Greiger gives Rafe a shrewd glance. "Pardon me, Lieutenant, but are you . . . uh, involved in a . . .?"
Rafe immediately cried out, "No! I mean . . ." In a calmer voice, he added, "I mean, not yet. But my girlfriend and her roommate . . ." He broke off.
Greiger nodded. "I understand, sir. But uh, if you're planning to get involved with two women, remember what I had said about those problems, sir. It will happen. I assure you."
A sigh left Rafe's mouth. "Yeah. Right. Thanks for the advice, Sergeant." He gave Greiger a quick nod, dismissing the latter.
"Yes sir." Greiger saluted the younger officer and walked away.
Rafe watched the older man's back recede into the crowd. He sighed once more, as his thoughts echoed Greiger's warning. For the first time, Rafe wondered if he had allowed himself into one hell of a fix.
* * * *
Sergeant Greiger's warning replayed in Rafe's mind over the next two weeks. And it played havoc with his life. The Tennessee-born officer became more distant with Danny and the other pilots in his squad. In early July barely paid attention to his flight lesson one afternoon and nearly collided with Red's plane the following morning. The incident resulted in a chewing out by Major Doolittle, the pilots' commanding officer. By the time the next furlough arrived, Rafe decided to break it off with both Julie and Carrie. No matter how the two women made him feel, Rafe realized that he did not have what it took to be sexually adventurous.
The day of reckoning finally arrived on a wet Friday evening in mid-August. Upon arriving at their Manhattan hotel, Rafe and his friends were surprised to find Julie, Carrie and four other girls waiting for them in the lobby. "Rafe!" Julie jumped up from her seat and rushed toward the pilot. Carrie remained behind, regarding the couple with a benevolent smile.
"Julie," Rafe replied in a stunned voice, "uh, wha . . . what are you . . .?"
Planting a kiss, Julie said, "Carrie, myself and the rest of the girls thought we would surprise you. There's a nightclub Carrie and I had stumbled across it, last Wednesday. We're here to escort you there."
Rafe summoned up a wan smile. "Sounds great." A long pause followed.
Then Billy asked, "Who's Carrie?" Upon mention of her name, the blond-haired woman rose from her chair and joined the group at the lobby's desk.
Suppressing a sigh, Rafe said, "Oh, yeah. I forgot. You guys never met Carrie, did you?"
"Hi," Julie's roommate greeted with a smile, "I'm Carrie. Carrie Menlo. I'm Julie's roommate." She said to Billy, "And you are?"
Rafe introduced his four friends to Carrie. He noticed how the blond woman's eyes roamed appreciatively over Danny. The latter's face turned red over Carrie's close scrutiny. "Uh, hi. I'm Danny. Lieutenant Daniel Walker. Ma'am."
"And I'm Carrie. Nice to meet you." She held out her hand. Danny shook it. Reluctantly.
Rafe decided to quickly step in. "Uh, listen, we need to check in and get ready. So why don't y'all continue to wait here in the lobby?"
"And go to this nightclub?" Red asked, frowning. "Aren't we going to eat, first?"
A sigh left Anthony's mouth. "Yes Red," he said in a long-suffering voice. "We'll have dinner, first. Geez!" The last word came out as a whisper. Red overheard him, anyway.
Julie agreed to Rafe's suggestion. "We'll be waiting for you." She pecked Rafe's cheek one last time. Then she and Carrie joined the other girls in the waiting area, while the desk clerk proceeded to check in the pilots.
* * * *
The evening started on a pleasant note. The pilots, along with the five women, had dinner at a cheap, but clean restaurant in Lower Manhattan. Then Julie and Carrie led the others to a Cuban nightclub on 63rd Street. Decorated with a tropical theme, the club featured a Cuban band that performed songs like "The Peanut Vendor" and "Perfidio".
Around one-thirty in the morning, the party finally left the nightclub, weary and slightly drunk. While the other pilots headed back to the hotel, Rafe accompanied Julie and Carrie to their apartments. The moment that the three young people entered the bedroom, Sergeant Greiger's warnings immediately left Rafe's mind. Instead, he allowed himself to enjoy himself with the two women, as they indulged themselves on Carrie's large bed. But the pleasure of their early morning orgy did not last, thanks to a simple suggestion from Julie.
"Rafe?" Julie's voice sliced through the heavy silence that surrounded the satiated trio.
The pilot heaved a slight sigh. "Yeah?" He lay between the slumbering Carrie and Julie, whom he faced.
"Carrie and I were talking, earlier this evening. About Danny."
Rafe stiffened at the mention of his best friend's name. "What about him?" Curiosity and suspicion mingled within him.
Julie hesitated. "Well, we were wondering if you would ask him to join us, tomorrow night. You know, as a foursome."
"Foursome?" Rafe frowned. "You mean like a double date? I had noticed that Carrie seemed interested in Danny."
A giggle escaped Julie's mouth. "A double date? Well, I guess you can call it that. But Carrie and I were thinking of something different. Here at the apartment. You know, a foursome."
Rafe finally understood. Images of him, Danny and the two roommates cavorting in the bedroom with limbs all akimbo sent him into a state of shock. He understood, all right. Julie and Carrie wanted an orgy that would involve Danny. It was the last straw. Rafe shot up into a sitting position and climbed out of bed. He snatched his pair of boxers from a nearby chair.
"What are you doing?" Julie demanded with a frown.
"Leaving," Rafe shot back. "For good. It's over."
An anxious-looking Julie woke up her roommate. "Carrie! Carrie, wake up! Rafe's leaving."
Heavy-lidded blue eyes blinked open. "Wha . . . aa . . . at?"
"Rafe's leaving. Now!"
The two women stared at Rafe, while he continued to dress. "What's going on?" Carrie demanded. "Why are you leaving? It's not even three, yet."
Resentment tinged Julie's voice. "It's about his friend, Danny. Apparently, Rafe doesn't want him to join in the . . . festivities."
"Damn right," Rafe added, as he knotted his tie.
Carrie sat up. "What's the matter, Rafe?" she said in a condescending voice. "Afraid that we'll like him better?"
Rafe reached for his jacked and put it on. "Nope. I'm afraid that Danny will like your new . . . arrangement. Or even worse, be disgusted with me. And I'm not ready to lose him as a friend." He grabbed his cap.
A sneer formed on Julie's lips. "I should have known. Underneath that uniform, you're just another hick unable to handle life in the big city. Maybe you're afraid that your friend might be different."
Squarely facing the two nude women, Rafe coolly replied, "Trust me, Julie. Danny is as much of a hick, as I am. And I aim for both of us to stay that way. If you want an orgy that bad, why don't you get in touch with your old friend, Marty. I'm sure he could supply you with another partner or two. Good-bye ladies."
Rafe turned smartly on his heels and marched out of the bedroom. For the first time in over two months, he felt good about himself. Despite Julie's cry of "Self-righteous bastard!" ringing in his ears.
END OF PART 5
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