And You Will Find Love

"I think it's do-able," Barbara told Oberman.

This time, their seating arrangement was reversed. She was behind the desk in the old wooden swivel chair Oberman had sat in the day before. He was on the other side in the green kitchen chair, Scrub curled up beside him on the floor.

"The airport is in a manure pile of debt."

Barbara chuckled, thinking she was picking up a rural vernacular her partner could relate to.

"But you have an investment in the land, buildings, and planes, and I'm coming in as a partner without putting up any buying-in-money."

Oberman looked disappointed. She could tell visions of being rich came into his head, from money she would take out of her purse, but flew out just as fast.

"What I will agree to is, I'll assume half the debt and we split future profits fifty-fifty. What do you say?"

The offer had its appeal to Oberman, even without any pocket change to buy more beer with. He remembered the best part of it from the day before.

"I can sleep and drink beer and do nothin' if I want, and you'll run the show?"

Barbara thought she would be better off without his help.

"You got it."

Oberman spit in the palm of his right hand. Barbara spit in hers. They shook on it and the bargain was sealed without Scrub lifting his head up off the floor.

"But I'll put it in writing," she said, "and we'll both sign it."

Barbara was not sure if that was Dale Carnegie's advice, something she had learned from her skeptical mother, or her own good horse sense.