“Deal.”
For two days, Quinn and I tour our favorite coastline. She takes a surf lesson while I nap in the shade of a blue umbrella, the Atlantic’s gentle breath cooling my skin. We stay out late, sample every form of almond pastry, get hopelessly lost, and laugh so hard we cry. The night before we have to part ways, we’re heading into our hotel when the two well-dressed men we saw at the beach café are standing at the small bar just inside the entrance. The taller one locks eyes with Quinn.
“How about a nightcap?” she asks, me, eyebrow cocked.
I plant a kiss on her cheek. “You go ahead.”
“Saving yourself for a certain firefighter?” she teases.
I laugh in surprise while a soft heat thickens in my core. “Promise me you won’t leave the hotel.”
Her eyes fill with mischief. “Promise.”
In the morning, Quinn comes down to the little restaurant with an extra spring in her step.
“Look who’s bright-eyed and bushy-tailed this morning,” I tease.
“Surprising, considering how little sleep I got.” A waitress arrives with coffee.
We talk about her trip to Chamonix and our future plans to hike a section of the GR11 trail through the Pyrenees. I’m going to miss her this week. She’ll be off the grid for most of it during her climb.
At the airport, where we’ll part ways, she asks about the one thing we haven’t covered. “Is it still hard to fly in Alaska, after what happened?”
“A little.”
Her eyes turn serious. “It wasn’t your fault. Just remember that.”
I pull her into a hug. “Love you, girl.”
She gives me a little squeeze. “Love you back.”
We both hate goodbyes, so we never say it. She steps back with a warm smile then turns away. I watch her melt into the crowd.
The next day, after my return flight and crashing at Quinn’s Seattle apartment, when I arrive at my gate, seeing the friendly faces of my crewmates fills my chest with an almost painful joy and reinforces one of the best perks of my job—these people. Our joking and banter as we ready the plane for passengers melts away the last of my apprehensions, and after everyone’s on board and safely settled, the thrust of the plane as we accelerate down the runway before lifting into the sky brings a prick of emotion to my eyes.
Quinn’s right. I shouldn’t beat myself up. It was one misstep. One tiny moment of neglect. The baby’s wounds healed, and the union backed me up. But my lapse in attention still haunts me. Add in the knife twist that is flying with Russel, and for a time, I wasn’t sure I could still love this job. I considered transitioning out, even switching to a different airline. But in moments like these, I know this is exactly where I’m meant to be, and I won’t let anyone take it from me.
“Grr,” I say at my reflection.
“The blue one makes your tits pop,” Annaleise says from the edge of the toilet.
I shoot her a scowl. “It’s not about me.”
“And yet you’ve tried on every dress you own.” She arches an eyebrow.
She’s right. I’m making this into a way bigger deal than the situation warrants. It’s the thought of kissing Linden that’s got my apprehensions in high gear. Add in my excitement to see my dad happy and loved by his people, anxiety due to the last-minute party details jumping through my mind, and the certainty of a run-in with Russel, and it’s no surprise I can’t focus.
Annaleise comes in behind me so our eyes lock in the mirror. “You’d be gorgeous in a paper bag. Wear what makes you feel good.”
“Okay,” I say with a decisive nod.
I return to my room and reach for the blue wrap dress I bought in Florence a few years ago. At the time, I had imagined wearing it for a night out with Russel, but I never got the chance.
Why not wear it tonight? But not for him. For me.
When I slip it on, the cool, dense fabric feels buttery against my skin, and I know it’s the right choice. I slide Mom’s pearl drop earrings into my ears and affix the matching pendant. In the full-length mirror inside my small closet, I smile through a sudden rush of emotion. Mom’s definitely with me today. She would be so proud of Dad.
Back in the bathroom, I smooth the front panels and adjust the wide sash that ties above my left hip so the bow lays flat.
