Off To a Rough Start

"Oh? Your mother worked for an airline?"

"She worked for Pan Am for ten years, then twenty at TransOceanic. The last five of those, she was their senior purser. She retired about eight years ago."

"That's awesome."

"I guess aviation sort of runs in the family," she said under a light chuckle. "Dad flew Hornets in the Navy, Mom and my grandmother were flight attendants, and my sister works for InterAir, too."

"Whoa. Hold on a second. You have a sister that works for IA?"

When Cameron adjusted herself to get closer to her husband, she curled her feet under her hip and settled into his arm. That's when I saw it. A cute little tattoo ornamented the inside of her ankle.

She nodded. "She used to work at the training center here, but she was transferred to the new one at the Dallas hub last year."

Holy crap. Holy freaking no-way-crap.

"May I ask you a slightly personal question?"

"Sure," she said, briefly arching her eyebrows. Her husband looked similarly curious.

"Would your … um, your maiden name. It wouldn't happen to be Rix, would it?"

"How'd you know?" she yelped, laughing in surprise.

"Oh. My. God," I said, laughing as hard as her. "Everything finally makes sense."

"What's going on in here?" Brandi asked, chuckling from the contagion in the room she'd just entered.

"You're not going to believe it. I just discovered⁠—"

The FaceTime alert sounded on my phone.

"Oh! Perfect timing. I think this'll answer your question."

I positioned my phone to a better angle and slid the slider to accept Pam's call.

"Hey there. I was just thinking about you," I said innocently to the woman who appeared to be fast-walking down a concourse at LaGuardia airport. I recognized the overhead signage immediately.

"Hey, yourself, sweetie! Just wanted to give you a quick shout to tell you I'm on the ground and headed to the hotel. How's your day been⁠—wait. You're not at a hotel. Where are you?"

Cam almost shot herself into the air to run behind the couch I was sitting on.

"Did you just call this man sweetie ?" she asked. I angled the phone a little so the camera would include her face, too. She'd squatted down to make it easier.

"Cam ? What the⁠—what the hell is going on?" Pamela yelped in total surprise.

She'd stopped walking and I saw the guy following her almost trip over her roll-aboard. He bumped her shoulder squarely, but she didn't seem to notice. I even heard his apology.

The familial resemblance was suddenly and blindingly obvious. The two ladies were siblings whose parents had not only mixed DNA into two beautiful women but held an odd twist of humor naming their daughters to allow similar diminutives. Cam and Pam? How'd I not notice?

Cam laughed. "Answer my question first, sis!"

The term of endearment Pam had used accidentally outed us. Ryan was still sitting, shaking his head in disbelief at the coincidence. He then rose from the sofa and crouched next to his wife so his face could make a trio on the screen.

"Hey, Pam!" he said and waved to his sister-in-law.

"Oh my god, would someone please tell me what's happening? I feel like I've walked off a plane into the twilight zone!" she said, looking about as she moved herself and her bag out of the flow of foot traffic.

"Pam has a boyfriend," Cameron sang teasingly.

"Hey! I'm sitting right here!" I defended myself before realizing my words confirmed the sisterly taunt.

Pam laughed. "That's not your house. Where are you two?"

When I first met Pam, she'd mentioned her friendship with Brandi. If I hadn't been distracted, I'd have asked more about how they knew each other and wouldn't have carried the lingering and nagging mystery so long. I beckoned Brandi and Rob over to me and switched cameras.

"I'm at Rob and Brandi's place in St. Peters."

"Oh! That makes more sense!" She laughed. "Hey, Grants!"

I handed Brandi my phone so they could chat.

After they'd completed their catching up, I asked for a few minutes to talk to Brandi in private. She walked me to their home office. I caught sight of an iMac sitting on a desk and visualized Rob in the chair pouring thoughts into form, writing the fifth book in his best-selling series.

"What's up?" she asked after closing the door separating the office from the rest of the living space.

"I'm about to ask a very personal question, Brandi, and feel free to decline to answer."

"Go ahead."

"How have you been? I mean … mentally."

"Why are you asking?"

"Back around Labor Day of last year, I had a pretty profound panic attack. I relived almost every moment of that night in Kansas City as if it was happening again. It happened right in front of Pam the first day we ever got to spend together outside of work, and it was kind of frightening for her⁠—for both of us."

"Oh, god, Mack. It makes me feel so much better that I'm not the only one. Even Rob has, considering he was watching it on the news, not knowing if I was the one missing. He'd already suffered enough tragedy with the loss of his first wife and their baby. I'm not sure what I was experiencing were true panic attacks or not, but I definitely had nightmares and flashbacks. I still have minor ones every now and then, but they've become much less intense."

I nodded. "Brandi … my dreams were so fierce that I was considering quitting to go flip burgers. You told me Natasha resigned. I also came pretty damned close to it myself until I realized I had nowhere to go. I don't know how to do anything else.

"Flying has not just been a career, but my life . I'm scared to death Pam's going to be witness to more things like that. I am worried about being a psychological burden to her. After having that massive mental fit in front of her, I'm wondering again if I need to ground myself and hang it up."

"God no, Mack. Like I said, I still trip sometimes, but the counseling I've had has made it easier to … breathe them away?

"I think because Rob and I went through our own forms of trauma together, we could talk about them with each other. It sounds like you've finally got a compassionate woman in your life, so hopefully … you'll heal even faster. Don't shield yourself from Pam. A man sharing his fears with the woman he truly loves is one of the most attractive things he'll ever do. Believe me, Mack. I know. Rob does, too."

"There's one thing still super-glued to my brain … a constant reminder I don't want to forget. Ever."

"What is it?"

"I've been flying airliners for more than a decade. Thousands of flights, with probably almost as many different employees crewing them. I only remember the names of a handful, and most of those because we didn't get along."

She nodded.

"LaTasha, Nat, Telo, Kennedy, and especially you, Brandi. Those are names I will never forget, and never want to."

I heard her sniffle as she hugged me tightly. "Thank you. That truly means a lot, and it's the same for me."

After the wonderful commiseration, we returned to the living room.

"Everything okay, babe?" Rob asked his wife.

"Never better," she answered with a happy smile.

"How's writing treating you?" I asked Rob. "I loved your latest. Pam gave me the Advanced Reader Copy for Christmas."

Brandi laughed. "I had no clue why she asked me for one. I thought he was going to send you one himself, but he has no excuse," she said, poking him in his ribs with an elbow.

"The ending was … clever. Forgive me for asking, but I'm wondering if …"

"Yeah. I rewrote most of the last seventy pages. What I had on paper at that point was way too close to what you, Brandi, and your crew experienced in Kansas City."

"That was … humane."

"I appreciate that. I'm glad you enjoyed it. Book Five is off to a late start. It's taking a different direction I hope will surprise the readers. It has a reveal which, if I stitch it together just right, will make them think I screwed up and want to start the whole series over only to discover they did."

"Kind of like The Sixth Sense ?"

Rob laughed. "You got it."

The revelation that Cameron Quincy was Pam's kid sister was the incredibly satisfying answer to an incredible mystery. Catching up with Rob and Brandi was a comfort, too.

Frisco, Texas – Mack's Townhome
Saturday, August 27, 2022 7:40 PM

The prior year saw us settle into a comfortable, mostly predictable schedule and routine. We both became more agile in KrewBid after seeking advice from Pam's boss. His wife was a flight attendant who later earned her wings. They'd been married for nearly thirty years.

Our time apart made us crave and appreciate our time together, and we never squandered it. I "checked in" with Pam often, wanting to make sure she knew she was my priority in life. We were transparent and open about all aspects of our relationship.

She laughed her ass off when I confessed that I'd asked Brandi out on a date the night before Flight 771. I also admitted I found her sister almost as stunning the first time I met her but that my vision changed the instant she said she was married.

We grew with each other. We loved each other. Completely.

"Hey, baby. How was your day?" I asked my girlfriend when she entered my house, though the thunder I heard outside gave me a clue.

"The flight here sucked," she answered, sagging into my arms after draping her suit coat over the back of the couch. "Let's not talk about work, okay?"

I held her warm body in a gentle embrace.

"Come here," I suggested, taking her hand. "Let me rub your back."

I walked us to the other side of the couch, sat down, and patted the ottoman. She perched herself in front of me. Her sighs guided the firmness with which I kneaded her muscles. With her hair up, the nape of her neck was beautifully bared. I traced my fingertips along it from her hairline to her shirt collar. She rewarded me with a low moan and the sight of gooseflesh.

"Your hands are magic," she whispered.

Ordinarily, a compliment such as hers would have earned her light kisses and nibbles on her neck. Her nape was exquisitely sensitive, and proper attention to it would often make her quickly amorous.

I hoped she couldn't feel my hands trembling. They'd started almost the moment she walked through the door. At first, I thought I was about to have another panic attack, but quickly realized what I was feeling was far from one.

I removed a package I'd secreted under a throw pillow near the arm of the sofa. It was a cellophane-wrapped box containing sixteen of her favorite confections consisting of a hazelnut and chocolate inside a wafer sphere. Well, only fifteen because one was missing. A friend of mine who managed a craft store helped me out by replacing the shrink wrap.

"Happy First Date Anniversary," I said, placing it in her lap. That time, I couldn't resist nibbling her neck and smelling her perfume.

"Oh, Mack. This is so sweet of you!" she said with a giggle and turned around to face me. She gave me a kiss. "I feel bad, though. All I got you was the card I hid. Did you find it?"

I laughed. "You put it in the meat drawer, babe! Of course I found it. I loved the note you wrote in it. Will you share some candy with me?"

"Absolutely. The flight was too turbulent to eat dinner, so I'm starving."

She tore into the transparent wrapping and shimmied the lid off the box. The excited smile disappeared as her jaw slackened. She was staring right at it. It was situated in a small nest of red rose petals which contrasted with the foil-wrapped sweets and the silver tray in which they nested, drawing immediate focus to it.

"Mack?" she whimpered, carefully removing the ring. The box of Rocher fell from her lap, sending its contents rolling in all directions over the living room's hardwood floor. Neither of us cared. She stared at the engagement ring so intently I thought I might see beams of light emit from it.

The lid then followed the box, and I heard a chocolate crunch as Pam knelt. She wrapped her arms around my neck, and I felt her body wrack with a sob.

"Franklin McGarry? What are⁠—Yes! Hell yes I'll marry you!"

I hadn't even been given the chance to make it formal. Her answer to the unasked question made me laugh hard, and I teased her a little.

"I didn't get to ask," I said, feeling tears of joy begin to form.

"Oh! Sorry!" she said, releasing her embrace, looking back at me with dreamily teary, happy eyes.

"Hell. I've never been one for dramatic speeches. Pamela, will you marry me?" I asked, slipping the ring on her trembling hand.

She giggled before kissing me. "Yes, baby, but are you sure you want to marry an old woman?"

I laughed. "Jeez, girl, you're barely four years older than me."

"I love you so much, Mack," she cried.

We cleaned up the floor, celebrating by eating three or four of the confectioneries each. She couldn't take her eyes off the brilliant gems on her finger. The emeralds flanking the diamond beautifully complimented her green eyes.

We didn't leave the master suite except to get food or drinks for the entire glorious weekend.

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