Armageddon_ A Novel of Berlin - Leon Uris [249]
Cindy was still wearing the white uniform of a dental assistant. “I was passing by on the way home,” she said. “I saw your car parked out front.” She went to the phone, called her home, and told the housekeeper to go ahead with dinner for the children, she would be in late. And then she saw Scott’s handbag and uniform.
“You don’t have to leave,” she said. “I’ll settle for half a loaf.”
“I’m flying out tomorrow.”
She looked at him curiously.
“I was ordered out We’re going to Germany on that supply run to Berlin.”
“How long do you expect to be gone?”
Scott shrugged.
“And it all happened so fast you weren’t even given time to say good-by,” she said acidly.
“I’m chief pilot. The whole squadron goes. I’ve been over my eyeballs in work.”
“Too busy to phone.”
“I was just writing a note.”
“So long, Cindy. See you around, sometime,” she said with sarcasm. Those were the exact words he had planned.
“I want you to sell the car,” he said, “keep half ...”
“For practical considerations?”
Oh Christ, he thought, she’s simmering to a boil and getting good and bitchy. He was hoping to avoid a scene, but that seemed impossible. He sighed, now resigned to an unpleasant raking over. For some reason they all went in for the dramatic exit.
“I was hoping,” she said with her wound showing in every inflection, “that there was some feeling between us.”
“There was a lot.”
“I even thought, for a while, we had grown to mean something to each other. You were so good with the kids ...”
“Cindy, there were never any promises. You went into this like a big girl.”
“You have a lovely way of making a girl feel like a cheap whore.”
Here comes the self-condemnation bit, he thought. In the beginning a game was played. She wanted a husband, most of them did. He maneuvered to have her without commitment. Cindy knew what the score was. She had been divorced for five years. She’d been in other beds before, and she would again after he left.
Even though she accepts the rules in the beginning she has to begin to justify the affair by making herself believe it is more than an affair. She wants to feel needed. That is the face-saving stage. And then the initial excitement fades and she gets possessive and jealous. About that time another woman begins to look exciting.
“Don’t pretend you haven’t enjoyed it,” he said. “Why can’t we call it a day like nice people. We buried it last week, anyhow.”
She turned away from him to fight off tears. She’d be damned if she would cry in his presence.
The bastard had it all down to a science, even the farewell scene. She gained control of herself and looked at him. Lean, blue-eyed, curly hair. She had committed the cardinal sin of falling in love, and when she saw him slip away she compounded the sin by becoming desperate.
“So long, punk,” Cindy said.
“Cindy ...”
“Get out.”
The Skymaster lifted majestically over Mamala Bay, banked, gained altitude, and made a great horseshoe turn over Waikiki. Scott had a single fleeting thought for Cindy as he looked out of the window. By the time they passed over Diamond Head, he blew a long breath of relief. The orders had come just in time. Soon there was nothing below but blue water.
Scott’s copilot and friend of years, Stan Kitchek, had been glaring at him all morning. They barely exchanged a word beyond the official language of the checks. Stan switched off the radio to the intercom.
“You’re a no good son of a bitch,” he said to Scott.
Scott didn’t answer.
“I went over to say good-by last night. You couldn’t even spend the last night with her? You couldn’t even make a little game like you were sorry to go? She was crying her heart out. You’re a no good son of a bitch.”
“Fly the goddamned plane,” he snapped,