samandjack.net



“Middlebury…” she said, her eyes fixated on the screen of her laptop.

“What?” he asked, raising his eyes from his newspaper.

“I think we should try and settle in Middlebury…”

Jack sat up straight and put his newspaper down before standing up and coming behind her. They had been living in the same motel room for about a week now, Jack making the commute between Rutland Airport and Burlington.

He leaned forward to look at the map she was consulting on the laptop. His proximity unsettled her in ways too good for her to think about. She cleared her throat and resumed. “I think I’m gonna take that teaching position.”

Jack sighed.

“It’s best, really,” she said before he could utter a word. “I don’t want to draw attention, and that’s what would happen eventually if I were to start working at IBM, no matter the amount of self control I could exercise,” she said calmly.

“You’re sure?”

“Yes. The college replied favorably to my application. The science department is developing a little more each passing year since the environment has become a big issue. First, they wanted to look at my credentials of course, and I had to rake my mind a little, not knowing exactly if what I set'd up was plausible, but apparently they were impressive enough for them to want to see me. I’ll have several more interviews before I even know if they accept me, but they have graduate programs, and I think I could do something rather stimulating there,” she concluded with confidence.

“Okay…” he relented. “So, Middlebury?”

“It would be the ideal location, Jack,” she nodded. “Half way between Burlington and Rutland.”

“So maybe I should call back that real estate agency and ask them to concentrate their search in the Middlebury area?” he said, smiling.

“I have my first interview next week; maybe you could stop on your way in or out and check what they find? Make a first selection and then I’ll come look at those you’ve selected?” she suggested.

“Or you could come with me when I’m not working,” he replied.

“I suppose I could, yes,” she said, smiling. “Oh, on another note… I was planning on having a haircut and dye…”

He looked at her, obviously very surprised.

“I’ve gotten at least two autograph requests already,” she said, shrugging.

“Oh, that! Well, I… I think I’m going to have to wear a mustache or a beard myself, too…” he said, grimacing. “A woman literally yelled into the airport yesterday…it was… embarrassing. No matter what I said, she was convinced I was Richard Dean Anderson. Not to mention the awed looks of both flight attendants when I first flew with them. They thought I was joking when I said my name was Jack O’Neill, and I had the hardest time convincing them that, yes, I bore an amazing resemblance to the character on TV, but that I was not Air Force, and I didn’t own a cabin in Minnesota, would you believe that?! I had to lie through my teeth for that!” he said dramatically waving his hands.

Sam chuckled. “Well actually it’s not really a lie, you are not Air Force in this world, and you haven’t built a cabin in Minnesota in this world either.”

“Hey, maybe I should use that and pose for his stand-in? What do you think?” he winked, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

“Oh, I’m sure we could make a lot of money, but our cover would be so blown… So, what color?” she said, fingering her blonde locks.

He sighed. “Well, you know, I kinda like it… blonde…” he grimaced. “A little darker? Not pitch black, please… Nor red…”

“I’ll see what I can do…” she smiled, pleased at his earlier compliment. “Mustache?”

“Well, it’s not as if I have many choices there; the guy is popular…”

She snorted. “Well, if he’s half as cocky as you are, no wonder!” she blushed a nice crimson. “Sorry… Sir.”

He smirked. “So I take it General Jack O'Neill is popular, too?”

Sam rolled her eyes. “I’ll never hear the end of it!” she muttered.

Jack chuckled.

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They still hadn’t found a suitable place to live in the Middlebury area by the time Sam started working at the University. They had visited a lot of houses, but either they were not suited to their needs, either they were way too expensive. In the meantime, they were settling in as best they could, still living in their motel room.

Jack had grown a mustache, much to Sam’s internal chagrin, but she had to admit the salt and pepper bar above his mouth gave him a mischievous look and accentuated his dimples, and the longer hair added to a more boyish face.

On her part, she had trimmed and dyed her hair, as she had announced, and had opted for a dark blonde that was quite different from her original color, but still considered “blonde”.

They also bought a second car, Jack having asked for an advance. They were tight on money, despite having kept more than half of their initial reserve, but the second car was going to put a serious dent into it, and Jack had offered a part of his monthly income.

For convenience and safety reasons, they had decided they would only open one bank account for both of them; besides, they didn’t plan on settling permanently in the area, so it was more of a ‘war treasure’ anyway, as Jack had put it.

Sam had acquainted herself with her new surroundings and the team she was going to work with. The labs were rather well equipped, and she silently rejoiced that some of them would probably help her try a few things on her own during the late nights.

Jack was doing well, too. He was quite happy with the small team he had on board, merely one flight attendant at a time, and the plane he was piloting most of the time was easygoing and maneuverable yet reactive. Since he mostly had businessmen, and the trips didn’t last more than two hours at most, his job was relatively enjoyable and came as — finally —a welcome change from his military responsibilities. No worries about sending teams out in the unknown, no hair pulling at deciding the type of potatoes the commissary would be serving, no reports to write except the daily flight sheet.

He had just finished his day, the sun was already low, but he was not too tired. He decided to change his course a little and took a small road outside Middlebury which he had often passed by. A medium sized farm soon loomed into view. He squinted a little. Yes, there was a sign, by the fence of the main house, with “vacation rental” on it. He decided to stop and try his luck.

He parked his F150 along the fence and went to check the entrance door. No doorbell. He tried knocking, but there was no answer. He circled the house, calling. After a while a 60ish woman, red with exhaustion, came from the barns to meet him.

“Sorry, sir, the cows gave me a bit of a rough time!” she explained sheepishly, wiping her brow with her sleeve. “What can I do for you?”

“Well, I saw a sign by the main house. You rent?”

The woman’s face lit up with a huge smile. “Ah, it’s the house over there.” She indicated a smaller house a bit further up the road. “It used to be our son’s, but he’s gone West with his wife now, and we decided we could rent it. You planning on spending some time here for a vacation?”

“Well, yes and no,” Jack replied. “We just found jobs here, and we were trying to find something in between…”

“We?” the woman asked.

“Oh, er, my partner and I… Sam…”

The woman frowned. “I… er… I see… May I ask what you’re doing?” she questioned.

“I’m a pilot at Rutland Airport,” Jack smiled.

“And your… Sam, what does he do?”

“Huh?” Jack frowned. “Oh! No, Sam’s a woman! Short for Samantha!” he saw relief on the woman’s features. “She’s found a teaching position at the University of Vermont in Burlington.”

“I see,” the woman said, jovial again. “Look, my husband is out in the fields, but he should be back soon. Maybe we can share a cup of coffee while we’re waiting for him.”

“That would be nice, Ma’am, thanks… May I use your telephone? I wouldn’t want Sam to worry about me being late…”

“Sure thing! Come on in!” she beckoned, opening the entrance door.

Jack took in the nice, cozy interior. The woman preceded him to her kitchen, chatting animatedly about the warm weather for this time of year. She pointed him to her adjacent living room where he could call Sam and inform her that he would probably run a little late.

“By the way, my name is Oma!” the woman said, giving Jack a mug full of coffee. Jack did a double take but tried to hide it. If he had been superstitious, he would have taken this as a good sign!

“Jack,” he said shaking the woman’s extended hand. “So that house… how big is it?”

“Oh, it’s no palace! Two bedrooms upstairs, bathroom and facilities downstairs, a small dining room/lounge, and a shed to park the car by the house,” Oma described.

“Well, that would be perfect, actually,” Jack smiled.

Before he had time to say more, a man, probably her husband, entered the house through the utility door.

Oma stood up and presented her guest. “Jim, this is Jack. Jack, this is my husband, Jim. Jack might be interested in renting the house…” Oma started.

Jim looked at Jack a bit suspiciously. A bit uncomfortable, Jack smiled to himself.

“He’s a pilot at Rutland Airport, and his girlfriend is a teacher in Burlington,” Oma provided.

“Ah, she’s not my…” Jack started but was interrupted by Jim.

“$1000 a month,” he said gruffly.

Jack frowned.

“Take it or leave it,” Jim resumed, earning a discontented look from Oma.

“May I visit it first?” Jack asked.

Jim relaxed. “Sure. Oma, Can you show him the house while I’ll freshen up a little?”

Oma glared at him before smiling back at Jack. “Come with me, Jack,” she beckoned, heading for the door.

The house was acceptable, but it was in desperate need of small repairs here and there. The wallpaper had peeled off in some places in one of the rooms, and a few drafts needed sealing, among other things that he couldn’t probably see, but he liked the setting and, despite its faults, the house was welcoming.

“I like it, Oma…” he commented as she locked the entrance door before returning with Jack down the path to the main house.

“You do? Jim built it with his own hands, for George, our son,” she said proudly. “His wife never really quite liked it,” she resumed as a shadow crossed her plum features. “She was nice to us, but I could tell she didn’t feel at home here. She couldn’t have children due to an accident when she was younger; I understand she was depressed. My son finally found a job in Chicago and they left. They come for Thanksgiving and the main holidays, but it’s not the same…” she concluded softly.

“Oma, the house is exactly what we need, but I don’t think I can pay $1,000 for it…” Jack resumed.

“Oh, I know… I could see it on your face, and Jim pushed the price up, too… We normally rent it for $900 at high season, $800 at low season. The house is old. It needs repairs, but Jim is not as young as he used to be, and with the farm…. He can’t do the little repairs the main house needs, much less the guest house!” she smiled sadly.

“I could help him… I built a cabin in Minnesota, you know?”

“You did?”

“It was a long time ago,” Jack smiled warmly, patting Oma’s shoulder. “Do you think Jim would lower the rate if I helped him repair the small house and maybe the main one, too?”

Oma looked at him brightly. “Give me a minute with him, Jack!” she said, extending her hand for him to shake it.

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“Sam?” Jack said joyfully as he entered the motel room.

“What’s up?” she asked, raising her head above the ever switched-on laptop.

“Pack your things; we’re moving!” he announced triumphantly.

“You found a house?” she asked.

“Yeah, it’s a small guest house outside Middlebury; it took me roughly an hour to get there from Rutland, and roughly an hour to get here from there, so it’s perfect. Quiet area, nice owners; it’s on a farm.”

“Well, that’s…” Sam started, not sure she was as happy as he seemed to be.

“Normally, they rent it for the vacation only, but they agreed to rent it to us longer if we needed. I promised to help Jim, the owner, with some repairs and such, and we got down the rate to $700. I said you’d want to see it first, so if you don’t mind, we can go tomorrow; I’m not scheduled to fly until Monday. You think you can spare some time?” he asked.

“That should be possible,” she smiled.

Sam had to admit that Jack was right. The house was well oriented and the view spectacular. By the shed there was a small yard with a big oak tree under which she could picture a rocking chair in the summer time, to read outside. Despite its relative proximity to the main house, it was still isolated enough not to feel like they were live in the farm’s courtyard. It was functional, if a little old-fashioned, but Jack had promised he’d remedy the problem soon.

Jim and Oma were also nice people. Jim might have appeared a little rough around the edges, but his heart was pure gold, and Oma had composed a nice flowery/fruity basket she had deposited on the dining room table, which sent spicy aromas floating around the house.

The beds were covered by handmade quilts, no doubts Oma’s work, and there were touches of the simple country life all around the house — something Sam was not used to, but something she found enjoyable and refreshing.

As she came downstairs, Jack and Oma looked at her expectantly.

“I like it!” she beamed.




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