Flight to Paradise Ch. 18

Book #3: Flight to Paradise

Chapter 18

"That's my house," Mac says as they make a low pass over his family's home. He and Kate were gear up before dawn and had spent the next eleven hours droning across the country. Even Kate had gotten tired of flying, letting the Goose fly itself for most of the last half of the trip, but eleven hours and three fuel stop later, they're finally in Hays.

"Nice house," she says as they make a lazy circle so she can have a good look.

"One of Mom's hobbies... building on and remodeling. The house is twice the size it was when I was growing up in it. It feels strange to walk into your own house and get lost," he teases.

"So you weren't shitting me? Your dad invented the zapper meals?" she asks, the large house and extensive grounds confirming that Mac's family has money.

"Have I ever lied to you?" he asks, glancing at her with a grin.

She trills out a laugh. "No. No you haven't. One of these days I'll stop asking. I'm surprised you don't have a runway at your house," she teases as he straightens the plane, flying toward the small airport.

"Mom talked about putting in a grass landing strip once, out in one of the pastures, but Dad put his foot down on that. I don't fly in often enough to warrant it," he says, smiling at the memories.

Thirty-five minutes later he's chucking their two suitcases into the bed of his Dad's enormous Ford pickup after they give Bert a hug. "You ride up front," Mac says to Kate as he crawls into the back seat, "I've already seen all this."

She's a bit stiff at first, embarrassed by her actions the last time she met Mac's dad, but Bert makes no mention of it and slowly draws her out of her shell, all but ignoring Mac in the back seat. By the time they reach Mac's house she's giggling at the story Bert is telling of Mac feeding his lunch sandwich to a stray dog on the way to school every day. They hadn't said anything to Mac about knowing, but they'd started packing two sandwiches in his lunch. Kate, still giggling at the thought of a young Mac thinking he was getting away with something, looks at Mac sitting behind her.

"He tells that story to everyone just to embarrass me," he says with a grin.

"I think it's sweet," she says as she opens her door and hops down from the truck.

Cynthia meets them at the kitchen door, hugging Mac warmly then Kate more tentatively until Kate puts her arms around her and returns her hug. Kate smiles as she feels the tension drain out of Cynthia.

"Kate, I'm so glad you could come," Cynthia says, smiling at her brightly. "Let me show you to your room."

Cynthia leads them through the large rambling house, a house that can't be more different than Mac's. Where Mac's house is modern and austere, Cynthia's house exudes warmth and family, with pictures of kids and family dotting the walls.

"Kate, here's your room," Cynthia says, stepping aside so Mac can drop Kate's bag, but when Mac sets both bags down, she flushes. "Yes, of course. Silly of me."

Kate watches the interaction between Mac and his mother, feeling slightly uncomfortable that Mac so clearly made a statement by dropping both bags in what Cynthia obviously intended to be her room alone, yet somehow comforted that he won't knuckle under and is standing with her, even in his mother's home.

"If this makes you uncomfortable, Mrs. McMillan—" Kate begins, thinking of Charlie's advice, not wanting to be a wedge between Mac and his mother, but Cynthia cuts her off.

"No, no. Tony's right. I wasn't thinking. I'm sorry," Cynthia says, fear and embarrassment clear on her face.

Kate smiles at Cynthia, trying to put her mind at ease. "It's okay Mrs. McMillan, Cynthia. Don't worry about it. No offense taken."

"Thank you, Kate," Cynthia says, obviously relieved. "I didn't mean to imply anything."

"I know," Kate says, her smile growing wider. "And I've tried to grow up a little since we met last."

There is a brief awkward pause before Cynthia offers to show Kate around the house. The house is a bit strangely laid out, obviously caused by the additions and renovations, but the house is beautifully kept.

"I didn't know what time you'd arrive, so I have chicken and rice warming in the oven," Cynthia offers, concluding the house tour in the large, eat-in kitchen.

"Yes please," Mac says enthusiastically, moving to a cabinet to retrieve plates, but closing it and looking in the next one, then closing that one too. "Why is it every time I come here, the dishes are in a different place?"

Bert barks out a laugh as Cynthia crossed the room and reaches into a cabinet and retrieves two plates, while Mac opens a third cabinet and retrieves two glasses. "Because your mom doesn't want anyone in her kitchen, so she keeps moving stuff around so nobody can find anything," he says beaming at his wife.

"One of these days I'll get it like I want it then I won't move stuff anymore," Cynthia says, smiling benignly at Bert.

"Uh-huh," Bert and Mac say at the same time, before bursting into laughter.

Kate listens to the banter and smiles. Mac's family can't be more different than her own. Where, especially her mom, is uptight and critical, Mac's family is fun loving and tolerant, at ease with each other, teasing and being teased in turn. They obviously care for each other very much and Kate wonders how her life would be different if she'd grown up in Mac's family.

Cynthia begins to spoon a creamy looking brown dish onto a plate, Mac watching intently. "That's enough, Mom," he says. Cynthia pauses a moment then adds another spoonful causing Mac to sigh.

"How much for you, Kate?" Cynthia asks looking over her shoulder.

"About a third that amount, please."

Cynthia scoops about half the amount she put on Mac's plate before giving the spoon a whack on the side of the dish to clean it before dropping it in the sink. "You don't have to eat it all if you don't want it." Cynthia reaches back into the oven and pulls out a dish of rolls, causing Mac to gasp.

"Are those grandma's yeast rolls? I'll have four of those. She'll have two," he says jerking his head toward Kate.

Kate watches as Cynthia pulls enormous rolls out of the pan. "Mac I can't—" she begins.

Mac holds a finger to his lips making quick shushing noises. "Trust me. You want two of these," he says crossing to the refrigerator and pulling out the butter.

Cynthia smiles as she picks up the plates and carries them to the table. "There is an apple pie for dessert," she says as she sits the plates down.

"From our apples?" Mac asks.

Cynthia looks at Mac as if she's offended. "Where else?"

Mac chuckles and sits the butter and a glass of water at the table. "Just checking. What do you want to drink? We have pop, tea, milk, juice, and water," he asks Kate.

"Water's fine," she says as she sits down.

"This is well water," Mac says, filling another glass. "Much better than that stuff they call water at home. Especially your home."

Kate takes a sip and can detect just a hint of flavoring, like an expensive mineral water. "This comes out of the ground like this? It tastes like bottled water. It's good."

Mac looks at his mom and dad as they settle at the table with them, rolling his eyes dramatically. "City girl," is all he says as he digs into his food.

Kate snickers then looks at her plate. The rolls looked delicious, but the rice dish is an unappetizing brown gooey mess. She'll eat it so to not insult Cynthia, but she's not looking forward to it. She takes a small bite of the casserole and her eyes open wide at the flavor. "Oh, wow, that's really good," she says, her face breaking into a smile.

"I'm glad you like it," Cynthia says. "It's one of Tony's favorites, and it so easy to make. I can give you the recipe if you like."

Kate nods her head, having already shoved another fork full into her mouth, savoring the rich flavor of chicken, mushrooms, and other flavors she can't identify. As good as the casserole is, she nearly swoons when she tries the rolls, the bread so light and airy she can't help but smile.

Cynthia grins at Kate's reaction. "My great-grandmother's recipe. They're a pain in the butt to make, but after a few thousand tries, I finally got them licked."

"Now I know where Mac learned to cook. This is fantastic."

"Actually, I didn't teach Tony all that much. He was always too busy when he was in high school, then he went off to the Army." Cynthia shrugs her shoulders in a what can a mother do gesture.

"This is stick to your ribs food," Mac says.

"Which is good, because I'm going to go get a load of feed for the horses tomorrow," Bert says.

"Dad, why don't you have that stuff delivered?" Mac asks in exasperation.

"Why should I pay them to do something I can do myself?"

"I don't know, maybe because you're 65 years old? It's not like you can't afford it."

"Are you calling me old, boy?" Bert asks indignantly.

"No, I'm calling you stubborn, you old fart," Mac says, making his dad laugh.

"Okay, so long as you are not calling me old."

"Thought horses eat grass," Kate says, slightly embarrassed by her ignorance.

"They do," Mac explains, "but in the winter there isn't much grass, so we feed them oats and hay." Mac looks to his dad. "What are we getting tomorrow, hay or oats?"

"Both," Bert says then laughs when Mac rolls his eyes. "And a salt block."

Mac laughs. "What? Did you run out of everything while waiting on me to get here to help?"

"No, but since you're here..."

Mac looks back to Kate. "Ever visit a feed store?"

"Uh... no."

"Want to?"

"Sure. Will I be able to help?"

"They'll load it for us. The real fun starts when we get back home and have to unload. What do you think, Dad? Think Kate will enjoy pitching hay?"

Bert laughs. "I doubt it."

Mac grins at Kate. "Yeah, me too. But you can still go if you want," he says, then begins to chuckle.

"What?" Kate asks, smiling at his gentle ribbing.

"Boy, is your citified-self going to be in for a shock."

After helping Cynthia clear away the dishes, Kate settles with Mac on a well-worn but comfortable couch in the family room. She's sleepy, tired from the long flight and stuffed from dinner. She'd passed on the apple pie, until she took a nibble of Mac's, then she decided she had room for a small piece after all. Warm and comfortable, snuggled into Mac's side, Kate can feel her eyes getting heavy as Mac and his parents talk.

"Tony, why don't you and Kate turn in?" Bert says. "Tomorrow is going to be a busy day. Sam, Darren, and the kids will be out after lunch, so we're going to have to get cracking in the morning."

"No, we don't have to go on my account," Kate says, trying to rouse herself.

Mac snickers and pushes Kate upright before standing and hoisting her to her feet. "You don't understand. If we're going to done by lunch, we need to be at the feed store when they open," he says before looking at his dad. "That's seven?"

"Yep," Bert says as he gets to his feet.

"That means I need to get up about five so we can get the horses fed and have breakfast."

"Ugh... five," Kate groans, causing Mac to laugh.

"You can sleep in until six," he teases, "unless you've changed your mind about going to the feed store."

"No, I want to go. No wonder you are always getting up at the crack of dawn. You're used to it, but if the store doesn't open until seven, why so early?"

"The horses have to get their breakfast too," he says cheerfully.

"Do they have to have it so early?"

Mac laughs softly. "No, but we have to get them fed, and us fed, then get to the store before they open. Normally they get fed between seven and eight."

She grunts her understanding. "Wouldn't it be simpler to have a dog?" she asks, causing the other three to laugh.

Still chuckling Mac takes Kate's arm. "Good night all," he says to his mom and dad as he steers her out of the room and to their bedroom.

They go through their preparations for bed, both swishing their mouths clean with the sanitizer and Mac using his depilation cream before settling into bed, groaning as he relaxes. "Jesus, I'm beat. Flying all the way from San Diego seemed like such a good idea too. That's two of those marathon flights in what, five days?"

"Sorry we came?" she asks settling in next to him with a sigh, feeling the effects of the day herself.

"No. You?"

She smiles. "No. I really like your mom and dad. You're lucky to have parents like that."

"Pretty lucky."

She stretches up to kiss him gently on the lips. As much as she'd like to make love to him, it'll be just too weird to do so his parents' house, not to mention that she and Mac are tired. But maybe, before they leave, Mac can show her what boys and girls do in the barn.

"Goodnight," she murmurs, nestling into the crook of his arm, adjusting her Minnie Mouse shirt so she can put her leg over him while sighing in contentment.

"Goodnight. If you don't want to get up in the morning, you don't have too."

"No, I want to go. Just wake me up when you get done with the horses and I'll join you for breakfast."

"You got it. I hope you like sausage gravy over biscuits, because that's what we're having in the morning."

"Uhhh... don't know. Never had it. How do you know that's what we're having?"

Mac chuckles. "It's what we always have the first morning I'm back. Mom always makes my favorites."

She smiles, happy that Mac has such a kind and loving family, already feeling more at home here than her own parents house. She's still smiling, thinking about horses and feed stores, as she drifts slowly into sleep.

The bed moving as Mac gets up draws Kate from sleep. She checks the time. Four-fucking-fifty in the fucking morning. Fuck... She forces herself to get up, staggering into the bathroom for her shower.

"What are you doing up?" Mac asks, as alert and chipper as ever.

God, I hate mornings, especially when they're in the middle of the night. She yawns and stretches, turning on the water for her shower. "I'm getting up," she mumbles. "Thought I'd help your mom or something."

"Kate, you don't have to do that."

Kate issues another huge yawn before stepping into the shower. "It's obvious that everyone pulls their own weight around here. I'm not going to be that spoiled city girl that doesn't want to get her shoes dirty," she calls from the shower.

Mac smiles as he finishes dressing. Kate is just full of surprises. "Okay. I'm sure Mom will enjoy having someone to help and talk to."

Twenty minutes later, mostly awake and alert, Kate wanders into the kitchen dressed in the only pair of jeans she brought, sneakers, and a short sleeve top with a jacket, having brought no long sleeve blouses.

"Are you cold?" Cynthia asks seeing how Kate's dressed.

"A little. It's a lot colder here that in San Diego. I didn't pack a long sleeve shirt."

"Goodness, girl! You'll catch your death of cold! Come with me," Cynthia say leading Kate to the master bedroom. Cynthia paws through her closet for a moment before handing out a light-yellow top. "It's going to be a little big on you, but it'll do until we can get into town and get something better. I swear, I don't know about Tony. Didn't he tell you it gets colder here than in San Diego."

Kate takes the blouse. She's a bit taller than Cynthia, and not as full figured, but the shirt looked warm and comfortable. "Thank you, Cynthia. You don't have to do this."

"Pish-posh," Cynthia says with a wave of her hand, turning to leave the room. "It's what we do for family, and why are you up so early?"

"I thought I'd help with breakfast," Kate says following Cynthia out of the bedroom.

"Kate, dear, you don't have to do that. I've been fixing breakfasts since before you were born."

"I know, but I want to do my share."

Cynthia smiles. "You know how to make sausage gravy?"

"No, but Mac told me that's what we'd be having."

"Get changed and I'll show you how."

A few minute later, as Kate stands over the stove, following Cynthia's directions, they talk, Cynthia obviously proud of Mac and willing to talk about him. "How long was Mac in the Army?" Kate asks.

"About six years. Maybe a little more."

"What'd he do?"

"I honestly don't know, he won't tell us. The closest thing to an answer I ever got out of him is when he said, 'I break other people's toys,' whatever that means."

"He was vague when I asked him what he did too. Was he a spy?"

Cynthia giggles. "No, I don't think so. But whatever he did, he won't talk about it."

"Is that how he lost his leg?"

Cynthia suddenly turns serious. "Yes. It was awful. I'll never forget that letter. Bert and I, we flew out right away to Germany. We thought he was going to die. I was never so scared," Cynthia says with a shiver from those terrible memories.

"It must have been awful," Kate says in sympathy, trying to imagine how scared she'd be.

"You can't know until you have kids. When they flew him back to the States, it took months for him to get over it. To lose your leg and your best friend at the same time."

"Sandra?" Kate asks.

"You know about Sandra?" Cynthia asks in surprise.

"A little. Mac told me they were going to be married."

"Yes. Nice enough girl, but a little stiff. Try as I might I never could get her to call me anything other than Mrs. McMillan. But no, I was talking about Bull, uh, what was his name... Sydney Toro."

"I don't think Mac has mentioned him."

Cynthia waves Kate to a picture on the wall of a young Mac and an older man, the man in the photos at Mac's house. "Tony thought the world of Bull. He kind of took Tony under his wing. Tony said he taught him how to be a leader, though Tony was an officer and Bull wasn't."

"What happened?" Kate asks as they return to the kitchen.

"Bull was killed in the same fight that cost Tony his leg. Tony took it hard, blamed himself for not saving him. Nobody could talk to him. Kate, it was bad."

"Mac mentioned something about how people die in the Army. He sounded pretty matter of fact about it."

"He's better now, but that's just the big tough Army officer talking. He won't admit it, but he still blames himself. Maybe he always will. But Bert and I, we talked to some of the other men that were there that day. Tony did everything he could to save Bull, and it nearly cost him his life, his trying."

Kate can feel herself tearing up, feeling Mac's pain. "Why does he blame himself then?"

"Because that's the way he is. He shouldn't, but he does. He still sends the Toro kids a Christmas card every year with a little money in it, and he set up a college fund for them. He's a good man, Kate."

"The best," Kate says softly.

"Yes. Bert and I are very proud of him."

"I can see why. Mac, Tony, said he drove Sandra away. Said it was his fault, but... I just can't see that in him."

"Kate, it was just awful for a while. Tony was tearing himself apart. Sandra couldn't talk to him. We couldn't talk to him. And Sandra, she couldn't take it anymore. I don't blame her, not really, but it was just another thing. I was afraid Tony was going to kill himself, I really was. He was so... devastated I guess is the best word... that he failed Bull. It wasn't until Bull's widow came and talked to him that he started to get better. After his discharge he came home for a while and we would sometimes hear him talking to someone. I've never asked who, but I assume it was Bull's wife. Such long conversations. I think they were helping each other get over their loss, but it broke my heart, Kate, that he was hurting so, and there wasn't a thing I could do to help him."

"I'm sure you did more than you know."

"I don't know. I hope so. I just felt so helpless."