“Mama, why do people care what I do so much? I’m an adult. I’ve never done anything bad to anyone. I’m kind. I work hard and stay to myself.”
Her face, creased with worry, softens a touch. “It’s your light, honey. Everyone else sees something they don’t have. It’s because you’re all of those things that people care. People are always going to talk. It’s just the way it is here. You only give them good things to talk about. Perhaps they’re waiting for you to make a misstep—watching like hawks to see a stumble.”
Her eyes crinkle and I have to close mine. “Do you have a problem with me dating Tyler Holiday?”
“The only problem I have is that you haven’t brought that boy up the hill for dinner yet,” she replies. “Daddy had to hear from the man who mows the property lawns, that you had a guest last night.”
I drop her hands. “Dear Lord, daddy knows he was at my house last night?”
“Caroline. You just said moments ago, you’re an adult. He doesn’t, we don’t, mind that you have a man at your house. Heck, for a long time we were worried you didn’t like men that way, and that my sweet daughter, would have really given these people something to talk about.”
I run a palm across my sweating forehead. There truly are no secrets in this place. “It just became official last night. It wasn’t something I was keeping from you, okay?”
“You’re allowed to keep things from me, honey.” She swipes back my hair on each side of my head with a sweet smile on her thin lips. “I’m happy if you’re happy, and the rest of the lot can stick it where the sun don’t shine.”
I laugh. “I’m going to take him up tonight,” I say, grinning. “I can’t wait to take him over the bay. It’s so beautiful at dusk.” I get caught up in thoughts of watching Tahoe’s face as I show him my favorite place in the world. I turn back to face her.
From the corner of her eyes I see a hint of glistening tears. Shaking her head, “Mamas wait for this their whole lives. I get to watch you fall in love. I’m gonna give you some advice. I know it’s usually your daddy who gives you all the tidbits and facts about the stuff you both love, but I want you to hear this.”
With her eyes, piercing that soft, soul section of my body, I can’t say no. I nod. She pulls me into the booth, takes my hands in hers across the table. Her thumbs rub my knuckles in circles. “You know how you throw yourself into projects? It’s 100% or nothing?”
I smile and nod. It’s something that’s infuriating when you’re living with me. I remind her of the time I didn’t sleep for days when I was studying for my pilot’s license. Logically, I knew the book would still be there in the morning, but I wanted the information to soak into me as quickly as possible. After all the hours I’d already logged in an aircraft, the test was child’s play, but I couldn’t chance failing at something that meant so much to me. “Are you telling me I shouldn’t give 100% in a relationship?” I ask, guessing at the avenue of this talk.
She shakes her head. “The opposite. Give it your all. Every last molecule you can spare without crumbling and dying.” She furrows her brow. “I know this is really new and you’ll be figuring things out for yourself, but give it your all, I promise you’ll never have any regrets.”
“But…the heartbreak. It happens to everyone around me. Everyone.”
Her concern turns to happiness. “Heartbreak tells you the love was real. You can’t be afraid of the end at the beginning. Go full throttle and see what happens.”
“That sounds like advice daddy would give.”
She shrugs one shoulder. “He must have rubbed off on me after all these years.” Her eyes go a little far off and I know she’s thinking of my daddy and all the years between their beginning and right now. “You go and have fun tonight. Be careful in the air, Caroline May.”
“I’m always careful,” I reply. “It’s takeoff and landing that hold the most risk,” I quote straight from Daddy when she says the same thing to him.
She smiles. “In the air is the fun part.”
I nod, kiss her cheek and bound outside to my bicycle, Caleb and his ugly words all but forgotten.
****
Tahoe looks absolutely horrified about my plan for us. There’s a crease on his forehead that hasn’t disappeared since I uttered the words,sunset flight. I checked the schedule and radioed in to air traffic control, and we are set to go.
“You seem so young to have so many hours under your belt,” he says, sweating, as he buckles himself into the seat next to me. “It’s small,” he adds, swallowing hard. “Are you sure we shouldn’t throw on a pack to be on the safe side?” he asks. I already told him three times we can’t wear parachutes on our backs.
“It’s a safe airplane. I learned to fly in the Cessna 152, Tahoe. You’re in good hands. I picked this one because I knew you were…frightened,” I add, grinning, adjusting my earphones.
“I am not frightened,” he barks back. “It’s about control. I like control. Fun fact, I hate riding in airplanes on the way up to jumping altitude. I don’t feel in control until I jump out of the airplane. My body and life are in my own hands at that point…not the pilots.” He rubs his hand across his lip to brush more sweat away.
I laugh, looking to my right. “You are terrified and I’m sorry, but it’s absolutely darling,” I say, taking a jagged breath around my laugh. He looks at me while I giggle, and a small smile appears. It’s small and crooked at first, but as I continue to laugh, it widens to a large white grin.
Shaking his head, he blinks slowly twice. “You can fix anything with that Tinkerbell laugh, you know that?”
“Tinkerbell,” I gasp. “Should I be offended?” I take this opportunity, while he’s distracted to hit a few buttons and switches. The engine rumbles to life. I wasn’t lying. I could fly this plane, in almost any condition, in my sleep. I’m confident in this seat. In my knowledge. In all of the ways that matter. Autopilot clicks, and I confirm all my gauges match with specifications, and look back to my nervous passenger.
Tahoe licks his lips. “It’s a compliment, pilot. We getting this show on the road? Before I change my mind and grab a chute.” His gaze wanders down to the straps on my chest. “Or before I decide I’d rather join the mile high club without being a mile high,” he says. His hand sneaks over and clutches mine.
I squeeze his big fingers once. “That’s a horrible pick-up line,” I reply.
