It was an unusually hot day for Mill Valley; the temperature was well over 90 and looked to stay that way for several days. Maggie McIntyre was sitting on the back porch in a wicker chair wearing a pair of cutoffs and a white halter top, her bare feet propped on the railing, sipping a martini. B. J. Hunnicutt sat by the door in his wheelchair, sipping a martini, wearing only a pair of bermuda shorts and a straw hat, his skin bronzed in contrast to his bright, white mustache. "I must say, Maggie," he said out of the blue, "you surely have your grandmother's legs."
"Thanks, Uncle B. J," she said, giving him a warm smile. "You say the nicest things."
". . .and she's probably wondering when she'll get them back."
Maggie had a thought to throw her drink at him, and reconsidered quickly with an elegant bluff. "I should have known. Maybe someday I'll learn to wait before I say something stupid like that around you. And how often did you get to see my grandmother's legs?"
"Many times in Korea, especially when it was hot. She had the best legs in camp, according to the enlisted men, but they'd never say it to her face because they were sacred of her."
She nodded and looked out at the view. "I can believe that. And what about the officers?"
B. J. took a thoughtful sip of his martini. "I'd say they agreed with the enlisted men. Even Colonel Potter made a comment about it during happy hour one night when she was away on leave."
"And what about you?"
He looked from one side to the other solemnly, then took a peek through the window. "I'd say I'd agree with Colonel Potter."
She smirked and took another sip from her drink. "And I would say, Uncle B. J., you make the best martinis, even better than Hawkeye."
"A dry martini is the greatest drink ever made, best thing on a hot summer's day. A drink dying of thirst."
"What's your recipe?"
A conspiratorial grin filled his face as he took another sip. "I'll never tell."
Fidgeting, she wiped some sweat off her brow and looked around. B. J. Hunnicutt lived in the same house he built just after he returned from Korea. The neighborhood grew around him, and redeveloped as more affluent gentry moved in, but the spacious, well built wooden house remained as a testament to the respect Dr. B. J. Hunnicutt had with his neighbors.
She held out her empty glass. "I need some more to drink, please. Pour me another."
He shuddered out of his reverie and refilled her glass, then topped off his own. "Peg's been gone for six years. Doesn't seem like yesterday we were walking down the aisle, saying goodbye at the airport when I was drafted, breaking ground here. . ."
"How's your family doing?" she cut in, hoping to sidetrack him from sad memories. "Seven girls are a lot to keep up with."
"They're all fine. Erin's a grandmother again, a boy this time. Sooner or later I'll have enough male descendants to make a quorum. Don't see them often, none of them live around here since Betsy moved away a couple of years ago. Erin's youngest girl Casey's going to school at USF and comes out on the weekends."
"Aren't you worried living here by yourself, especially since. . ."
"My cancer's in remission, and I can get around all right, even in this thing. Home Health Care sends someone out every morning to check on me, and my neighbors take turns bringing supper by. Got a cell phone right here with help #1 on the speed dial, and a life alert necklace. Don't need to be in a nursing home yet." The last lines were delivered in an irritated tone.
Maggie held her hands up and a puzzled look appeared on her face. "I wasn't saying anything like that, Uncle B. J. No need to get upset. Sheesh, it's none of my business how you're set up here, just wanted to know. Just curious, the Major will want to know in detail. Good grief."
B. J. shook her head. "Sorry, Maggie. People ask me if I want to move to assisted living from time to time, and I get impatient with them. Comes with getting older. Bet Hawkeye would have had none of that."
"Of course not, nor would the Major. He was lucky to have gone as quickly as he did." They sat and looked as a plane passed overhead and another breeze played with the tree branches nearby. "Who did the Major's medical checkups in Korea? I know it would have been Frank Burns at first, but after she broke up with him I can't figure out who would have. Unless she had them done in Tokyo. "
"Why do you ask?"
"Just morbid curiosity."
B. J. thought for a moment, a small smile on his face. "I did her examinations. Hawkeye was always got a little too excited, and Potter was usually too busy. After she broke up with Burns, I was it; I did her exam just before she married the Lieutenant Colonel."
Maggie sat up in her chair, putting her feet on the deck. "Lieutenant Colonel? Wait a minute, I thought she was only married once in Korea. Lieutenant Colonel who?"
"Penobscot. Come to think of it, I helped Hawkeye put him into the body cast when we all got drunk at the bachelor party. . ."
"Hold on, I need to work this out," she said, putting her drink on the rail. "The Major told me Donald Penobscot was a Major and Grandpa Trapper helped Hawkeye put him in the body cast."
"Really?" he replied, a sad look coming over his face. "I assure you, Penobscot was a Lieutenant Colonel, and that really made Frank Burns livid with envy. Trapper was gone by the time she met Penobscot. You can look it up in the service records if you want to, I'm sure you could find the Major's without too much trouble."
Maggie took a few moments to ponder, her eyebrows scrunched together. "Oh. I see. Yeah, I'll double check that. . ."
There was an awkward pause before he continued: "How's the Major doing these days?"
