Candy certainly knew what it felt like to be separated from family. She’d lived the past couple of years away from her parents and sisters.
Minutes later their 747 reached the head of the line. In the seconds before takeoff, Candy felt the usual sense of exhilaration. That feeling—that awesome, powerful feeling— reminded her once again of the call God had placed on her life: the call to fly. Since childhood she’d dreamed of soaring above the clouds, and now that dream was actually becoming a reality.
The roar of the engines sounded, and the plane began its inevitable journey faster, faster, and faster until the front end tipped up, skyward. Within seconds, the back wheels lifted and Candy found herself leaning back against the seat whispering, “We have liftoff!”
“Excuse me?” Mrs. Kenner looked at her with furrowed brow. “Were you talking to me?”
“Oh no. I was just—” Candy laughed. “Just talking to myself, really. After the takeoff. Nice and smooth.”
“Ah. Wish they were all like that. The last time my husband and I came to see our grandbaby, we had the most terrifying takeoff. And the landing was worse.” She proceeded to share the details with heightened enthusiasm. “We got two landings for the price of one that day.”
Candy couldn’t help but smile at the woman’s sense of humor. “Good thing you can laugh about it,” she said.
“Well, I can laugh now, but not at the time.” Mrs. Kenner fanned herself with her hand. “It’s a miracle we’re still alive. Really.”
“Wow.” Candy smiled. In the days leading up to getting her pilot’s license, she’d struggled through a few rough takeoffs and landings. Thankfully, she’d seen great improvement over the past few months while flying smaller planes in Arizona. Now she’d turned her sights to piloting bigger planes for Eastway. Just the idea of flying out of Newark brought a smile to her face. How wonderful it would be, to be back in Jersey once again. Close to family. Close to home.
Candy gazed out the window once more. Billows of white clouds now wrapped the plane in their embrace. The backdrop of deep blue sky behind the wispy clouds nearly took her breath away. Something about the contrast of colors always put her in mind of creation—God speaking the heavens into existence. She could almost hear it now. “Let there be light!” And there was light.
Just then, a voice came over the speaker. “Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. Welcome aboard Eastway Airlines flight 1403 from Chicago to Newark. This is your captain, Darren Furst. Not second, first.”
A few of the passengers chuckled, but Candy rolled her eyes. Just then, the plane jerked a bit and Mrs. Kenner’s eyes widened. “Oh dear.”
Candy’s gaze shot to the window once again. She expected to see heavier, darker clouds looming, but nothing significant jumped out at her. Certainly no reason for a rocky flight.
“Just a little turbulence, folks,” the captain continued. “Keep those seat belts on until we tell you otherwise. And by the way. . .once the seat belt sign goes off, we ask you to please limit your walking to inside the plane, not out. When passengers walk on the wings it tends to affect our flight pattern.”
A handful of passengers chuckled, but Candy did not. Turning back to the woman, she pursed her lips. “His comedic skills are great, but this isn’t a stand-up show.” He needs to pay more attention to his flying skills and leave the comedy to folks on TV.
“I’ve seen a lot of rocky takeoffs.” Mrs. Kenner shrugged. “I’m sure he’s a fine pilot.”
Candy nodded. “Well yes, but—”
“We’ll be flying at an altitude of thirty-five thousand feet,” came the voice over the speaker, interrupting her thoughts. “Our expected arrival time in Newark is 5:52 p.m. The weather in Newark is a warm eighty-eight degrees with some broken clouds. We’re hoping they’ll have them fixed before we attempt to land. Now, settle back and enjoy your flight.”
Candy did her best to do just that. Ignoring the chuckles around her, she reached for her phone, pressed in the earplugs, and scrolled until she found the perfect worship song. Ah. Much better. With the soothing melody playing, she could almost relax.
Almost.
About three-quarters of the way into the song, as they continued their ascent, the plane began to tip to the right and then the left. The woman next to her reached into her purse again, pulling out a pill bottle. “I need an airsickness pill. This flight is really making me feel queasy.”
“Me, too. But I’ll skip the airsickness pill. They make me loopy.”
“I do have to wonder about that pilot.” The woman’s brow wrinkled as she swallowed one of the pills with no water. “He’s got to be a novice. Either that or we’ve got some really rough weather ahead.” She fastened the top back on the bottle and put it in her purse.
“I can’t do anything about the weather, but it does make me wish it was my turn in the cockpit.” Candy shrugged.
“You mean you’re a pilot?” The woman gave her an admiring look. When Candy nodded, she added, “Good for you, honey. These days, women can be anything they set their minds to. When I was a girl, only men had jobs like that.” She laughed. “ ’Course, when I was a girl, men held most of the jobs, period. I think it’s wonderful that young women today are getting out there. . .fulfilling their dreams.”
“Oh, women have been flying for ages,” Candy explained. “There’s a great organization called Women in Aviation. I’m a member. And there’s another group specifically for female pilots called the Ninety-Nines that was formed in 1929.” She went on to tell the woman all about the group, and how she hoped to join after she got hired on at Eastway.
“So, your job with the airline looks hopeful?”
A smile teased the edges of Candy’s lips. “Yes, I’m headed to Newark for my final interview. I took the FAA check ride last year,” Candy explained. “Passed it with no problems.”
“Check ride?”
“Private pilot certification. Scary process, but I made it through.”
“So you’re ready to go.”
She shrugged. “Well, it’s not that easy. You’ve got to have a minimum of 250 flight hours under your belt to take the check ride. I had that. But getting my commercial license didn’t mean I could fly for one of the airlines. Most require more than a thousand flight hours, and 250 of those have to be in IMC.”
“IMC?” Mrs. Kenner looked confused.
“Instrument meteorological conditions. So, I’ve been in Arizona, building up my time flying for a cargo carrier. I worked for a little while as a skydiving pilot, too, but that was more for fun.”
“Skydiving?” Mrs. Kenner grinned. “I know you probably won’t believe this, but I’ve always had the desire to jump out of a plane.” She looked out of the window as the plane gave another jolt. “Not today, of course. Unless that pilot doesn’t get his act together.” After another jerk, she added, “Somebody hand me a parachute.”
Candy laughed. “I don’t think we’re quite ready for that yet. And from the looks of things, this isn’t ideal jumping weather.”
Mrs. Kenner leaned back against her seat and closed her eyes for a few seconds until the bumpy flight straightened itself out. When things had finally settled down, she opened one eye and peered at Candy. “So, you have enough hours to work for one of the airlines now?”
“Well, a regional carrier like Eastway,” Candy explained. “Not a major airline. But eventually I hope to fly for one of the bigger companies, maybe even transatlantic flights.” Just the idea sent a shiver down her spine. . .in a good way.
“Of course.”
“Eastway just makes sense for now, since they fly out of Newark. My family lives in Atlantic City and I like the idea of being so close to home again.” Candy went on to tell the woman about her family’s candy shop on the boardwalk. Then she reached into her bag and produced a clear plastic bag of saltwater taffy in a variety of flavors. She extended it toward the woman. “My mom’s always sending me sweets from our shop. Have one.”
“Oh, sal
twater taffy! My favorite!” The woman grabbed the bag and stared at the label. “Carini’s Confections. They’re on the south end of the boardwalk, right?”
“Right.”
“I remember visiting that store when I was just a girl. There was a wonderful man who ran it back then.” She took a light red piece of the taffy, quickly unwrapped it, and popped it into her mouth.
“That would be my grandpa Gus.” Candy smiled at the memory of her grandfather. “He passed away several years ago. My parents took over the shop, but now they’ve retired. They’re gone several months a year, traveling in their RV. My older sister, Taffie, runs the store now.”
“Taffie?” The woman spoke around the wad of candy in her mouth. “Well, if that isn’t clever.” She paused a moment to focus on chewing. “And your name is Candy,” she said after swallowing.
Candy sighed. “Yes. But don’t say that too loudly, okay?” Even after years of being away from home, she still cringed at the thought of their names. Taffie, Candy, and Tangie. The three Carini sisters.
“I think it’s cute.” The woman gave her a wink, then licked some of the stickiness off her fingers. “So, are you going to get to see your family while you’re in Newark?”
“Yes, I can’t wait. My sister Taffie just got married, a little over a year ago, and she’s expecting her first baby. I was there for the wedding, of course. And I’ve been back once since. But mostly I’ve been raking in the hours I need back in Arizona. That’s a long way from Atlantic City and my family. It’s been worth it, but I sure miss them.”
“Do you mind if I have a second one?” The woman held the bag up. “That last one was a strawberry, and I see a yellow one in here I’d like to try. Banana, right?”
“Yes.” Candy offered a reassuring smile. “And take as many as you like. Once I get back home, I’ll have access to everything in the store. Not that I need the calories.”
“Calories?” Mrs. Kenner laughed. “Don’t know why you’re fretting over that. You’re as slim as they come. Now me, I’d put on five pounds a week if I worked there.” She bit into the banana taffy and a childlike smile followed. “Hmm. Maybe ten. This one’s good.”
“Yes, it’s one of my favorites, too.” Candy turned her attention to the clouds outside the tiny window. From here, they looked like soft white tufts of cotton candy.
She cringed, thinking of the nickname her parents had given her as a little girl. Cotton Candy. Oh, how she’d disliked that name as a child. But now, all grown up and staring at the powder blue sky, she had to admit Pop was right about one thing: his familiar words, “Cotton Candy, you’ve got your head in the clouds again,” certainly rang true. Not that she minded from this angle. No, having her head in the clouds was a good thing from her current perspective.
Her eyes grew heavy, and before long she found herself drifting off. Dreams of piloting through a storm made for an uneasy sleep. She awoke to wheels touching down and the sound of the pilot’s voice. “Welcome to Newark. Looks like they got those broken clouds fixed, so we were able to land with no problem. We hope you enjoy your stay, and thank you for traveling with Eastway.”
Candy groaned, then reached for her purse to touch up her lipstick.
The captain came back on for one final word to the passengers. “Folks, make sure you get all of your belongings before exiting the plane. Anything left behind will be distributed among the flight crew. Please do not leave your children.”
Several passengers laughed aloud at that one. A family in the row in front of Candy teased their son, then laughed.
Mrs. Kenner looked over with a shrug. “His jokes are growing on me.”
Candy shrugged. No comment. As soon as the Fasten Seat Belts sign went off, she rose and stretched to get the kinks out. The line slowly moved forward toward the front of the plane. She followed along behind Mrs. Kenner, who chatted the whole way.
As they approached the front door, the same blond flight attendant greeted her with a pleasant “Have a good day.” Candy nodded and looked to the woman’s right. She recognized the pilot’s uniform right away. Her gaze shifted to his badge. Captain Darren Furst. The comedic pilot. He was taller than many of the pilots she’d flown with, and considerably more handsome.
His dark eyes and hair distracted her for a moment, then the line of people shifted forward once again. He gave her a polite smile, adding, “Thank you for flying with us,” as she passed. She returned the gesture with a polite nod.
“Well, there you go, honey,” Mrs. Kenner whispered in her ear as they continued on their way out of the plane. “He might not be the world’s best comedian, but he sure makes up for it in looks, doesn’t he?”
Please tell me he did not hear that. Candy turned back to give him one final look. No, the captain’s focus had shifted to the people behind her. Convinced he hadn’t overheard them, Candy said her good-byes to Mrs. Kenner and set her sights on the great outdoors.
TWO
Darren yawned and stretched, happy to be free of the confines of the cockpit. Though he loved his job, he felt cramped at times. He’d started the morning in Newark, flown to Chicago and back again. A pretty typical schedule these days, and one his seniority made possible. Others who’d worked less time with the company didn’t have it so good. Many who were based in Newark didn’t get to see as much of the town as they’d like, due to their hectic schedules.
“ ’Night, Captain.” His copilot, Larry Cason, patted him on the back as he passed by. “Get some rest.”
“Mm-hmm.”
Larry paused. “You got anything special planned for the Fourth of July?”
“Who, me?” Darren shrugged. “My family’s all on the West Coast, remember?”
“Ah. Right.” His eyes lit up. “Well, why don’t you come to my place? My wife’s inviting her sister, and she’s single.”
Darren groaned. “Remember what happened the last time you tried to fix me up with someone?”
“Yeah.” Larry smiled. “I had no way of knowing Abby was so clingy. But Chelsea’s not.”
“Chelsea?”
“She’s really sweet. Maybe a little young for you, though. She’s only twenty-one.”
Darren groaned. “Um, no thanks. I don’t think the age gap would work.”
“Hey, don’t be so hard on yourself.” Larry gave him a funny look. “You’re not as old as you act.”
“Thanks a lot.”
“No, seriously.” Larry scrutinized him. “You act like you’re in your forties, but I know you’re a lot younger. What are you, maybe thirty-two?”
“On my next birthday.” Darren shrugged.
“Okay, Grandpa. Well, maybe I won’t fix you up with the twenty-one-year-old, but that doesn’t mean you have to curl up in a ball and pretend your dating days are behind you. What have you got to lose, anyway?” Larry’s laugh rang out as he made his way off the plane. “See ya later, Gramps.”
“Gramps.” Darren groaned, then pondered Larry’s words —What have I got to lose?—as he turned back to the cockpit to grab his belongings. As he prepared to leave the plane, someone called his name. He turned to see a familiar flight attendant. “Hey, Brooke. What’s up?”
“Not much. Just wanted you to try this.” She handed him a piece of candy. Saltwater taffy.
“Candy?” He gave her a curious look. “What’s this?”
“It’s taffy. Just thought you’d like a piece. One of the passengers gave me this bag.” Brooke lifted up the plastic bag with a Carini’s Confections sticker on the side along with a picture of the boardwalk in Atlantic City.
“Good stuff.” He reached for a piece. “So, taffy’s a big thing in Atlantic City?”
She groaned. “How long have you worked for Eastway?”
“Four years.” He spoke around the mouthful of sugary stickiness. “How come?”
“You’ve lived in Jersey for four years and haven’t figured out that the boardwalk in Atlantic City is known for its saltwater taffy?”
�
��Never been to the boardwalk.” He shrugged and reached for another piece and unwrapped it. “Guess I’ll have to go someday.”
“I’ll ask Jason to plan a trip for our singles ministry,” she added. “Would you go with us if we did?”
“Sure. Why not?”
“Okay. And while we’re there, we’ll take you to Carini’s Confections. They’ve got the cutest little candy shop on the boardwalk.”
The words cute and candy sounded pretty girlie. Still, the taffy tasted good. He couldn’t argue with that.
“I’m still getting to know the Newark area,” he said with a shrug. “And all of the surrounding stuff.”
“Yeah, Jason told me you haven’t even been over to Ellis Island yet. Or the Statue of Liberty.”
“I know, I know. I’m just so. . .”
“Busy?”
“Yes.” And distracted. What’s the point of going places if you have no one special to go there with you?
Brooke continued chatting, and Darren tried to stay focused. However, he found himself stifling a yawn. He’d like to get home and out of this uniform. It seemed to be swallowing him up today.
“Hey, I have an idea.” Brooke’s eyes flashed. “Jason’s picking me up. We’re going to dinner at that new steak house he’s been telling everyone about. Why don’t you come with us?”
“You seriously want me to horn in on your date? No thanks.” Though Darren valued Jason’s input into his life— both as friend and singles pastor at his church—he couldn’t imagine interrupting a date with the guy’s fiancée. Even if the fiancée happened to be a coworker and friend.
“But there’s something we want to talk to you about.” Brooke pouted, then flashed a sly smile. “I’ve got an old friend from college I want to introduce you to.”
“Oh no.” He put a hand up and took a small step backward. “Not another blind date. I thought I made that plain after the last one.”
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