Flying Home

by Mary Anne Wilson

  “What happens to the kids when the grant’s gone?”

  She sighed softly. “I intend to be around here, in one form or another, and I think that if I work it right, I can still be in the kids’ lives, and maybe kids that show up later on, too.”

  “What about the rest of your life? The life beyond your work at the center?”

  “What about it?”

  He maneuvered around some cars that were double parked in the snowy street. “What is it going to be like?”

  “The million dollar question,” she murmured, and when he had the chance he glanced at her again.

  She looked out the window ahead to the street, her hands once again clasped in her lap. Her teeth worried her bottom lip, a trait he recognized she did when she was thinking hard. “That’s pricey,” he said.

  “I just...I’m not sure. I know I want that house, and I want it to be my family house. Maybe when my stepfather retires, they could come and live there, at least now and then.”

  “And what about you?”

  “I think that maybe, by then, I’ll have my own family, and make this town our home. A place they’ll leave when they grow up, but a place they’ll always come back to.”

  “Like you did?”

  “Yes, exactly.”

  He had to ask the next question, something he’d wondered about, something she’d never hinted at during their time together. “Do you have someone in mind to build that life with?”

  “Oh, no,” she said quickly. “There might be someone, but even if there isn’t, there are lots of kids out there that need someone to love them, like Erin, and adoption is a real alternative for them.”

  Kids, maybe a husband, maybe not, a long life in Wolf Lake. Again, he felt some envy at her situation. She knew what she wanted, and she was on that path. Just as he knew what he wanted and was on his own path. Maybe he wasn’t as passionate as she was about her plans, but he still had his plans and they were every bit as firm as hers were. Build the business, keep moving, don’t be bored, and maybe he’d meet someone who shared that vision and maybe he wouldn’t. As far as kids went, he’d never even thought about them. He wouldn’t start now.

  He felt Merry sit forward a bit, and excitement filled her voice. “Oh, finally, it seems like a lifetime since I left here!”

  He saw the center, by the glass and steel visage of the hospital with a sprawling parking lot that was slowly being hidden by the steadily falling snow. The center was as theme-oriented in structure as the hospital was clearly functional. The center had been designed to touch the past, with adobe appearing walls, two stories with a line of windows on each that were framed by rough timber, a flat roof, and a huge side yard with every imaginable playground toy that the money an anonymous donor had supplied.

  The massive letters that looked carved into the adobe front above the second line of windows, spelled out, “Wolf Lake Family Center.” Gage drove toward the partially covered semi-circular drive that swept past the massive wooden entry doors, one with a carved eagle in flight and the second door with a wolf, head lifted, baying at the moon.

  “Oh, wow,” Merry breathed, opening the truck door before Gage had brought it to a full stop. “Thanks,” she called back over her shoulder as she sprinted away from him as quickly as she could in the ankle-deep snow.

  He watched her for a moment, transfixed by her spirit and enthusiasm. “Hey,” he called after her, realizing she hadn’t taken her things with her, but she kept going. Quickly, he turned off the truck, left it by the entry and headed after her. By the time he pushed back the doors to go inside, she was nowhere in sight, but he knew where she was going. The second floor, suite B, the same place he’d gone earlier in the day. He passed through the reception area, by walls displaying wonderful murals of children playing, backdropped by the suggestion of the low desert.

  He got to the bank of elevators, spotted Merry’s name on the register, “Dr. Merry Brenner, Therapy & Counseling, #2B” and passed it as he stepped onto the car that had just arrived. In a few seconds, he was on the floor obviously dedicated to her kids, from the brilliant primary colors, to picture after picture of kids that lined the walls. He headed to the door marked 2B, a few feet from where he’d stepped off the elevator.

  Before he could push it open, he heard squeals and laughter. He then stepped into a massive room obviously decorated for children. More primary colors, interactive games and activities were everywhere, and scattered in a space off to one side that had what looked like sleeping mats. But the main focus of Gage’s attention was in the middle of the room.

  Merry.

  Surrounded on a round carpet that was probably twenty feet across, fashioned in deep green pile, was Merry with the six or seven kids he’d seen that morning. Then he saw Merry reaching out to the little girl, Erin, a tiny thing pushing her way into Merry’s arms. And Merry was smiling. That sight almost took his breath away.

  Earlier he’d thought Merry’s pleasure at thinking about seeing the kids was stunning on her face, but the smile right then eclipsed that by a mile.

  He almost backed out, but she saw him, and motioned him to come over to her. The kids parted to let him near, but they kept very close to the woman on the floor. The boy he’d been introduced to as Brandon Sage sat by Marsala, and he got up, limping over to Gage. He was about ten, skinny with a flushed face and a walking cast on his left leg.

  Cocking his head a bit to look up at Gage, he said, “So, you came back?”

  “Yes, I came back,” Gage said, trying to get his bearings before actually speaking to Merry.

  “My uncle, Big Mike, from the Rez, says he knows you, that you’re some bigwig that crashed in an airplane. Is that right?”

  He saw Merry blanch slightly, before he nodded to the kid. “That’s me, but crashed is a bit strong. The storm was bad and I had trouble landing.” He spread his arms at his sides. “As you can see, I survived just fine.”

  “He says you used to live here, but now you live in some big city and make tons of money. Where do you live?”

  “Where do I live?” he echoed.

  “Yeah, where? Big Mike couldn’t remember.”

  The kid was persistent and Gage could feel Merry watching him carefully. Where did he live? In the small single room apartment he’d had in the same building as his head offices, or did he live in his plane? Or at least, the next plane he’d buy? Or did he live here in Wolf Lake? Nothing fit, so he just said, “A long way away.”

  That actually seemed to satisfy the boy, who turned and limped back over to Merry to ask her a question. “How come he knew you were back when he came here this morning?”

  Merry stood, but each hand of hers held the hand of a child. There were two girls and four boys, ranging in age from what he’d guess was about six years old to ten or eleven. He knew Brandon Sage. Joseph, the one obsessed with red vans, held Merry by one hand, and Erin hung on her left hand.

  “He met me, and said he’d let you kids know I’d call you or come by this afternoon,” Merry explained. “I wanted to see you, not call, so he gave me a ride to come and see all of you.” Her green eyes met his. “Let me introduce you to my friends.” One by one she introduced the kids, ending with Erin.

  She’d mentioned adoption with Erin, and he thought he could see why. The little girl held tightly to Merry, her eyes huge and watching him warily. She looked a bit like a scared fawn. Maybe she was afraid of Merry leaving again. Or maybe the fear came from some new person walking into this world uninvited.

  “I left my things in your truck, didn’t I?” she asked.

  Along with a black hole of emptiness, he thought with a very uncomfortable poetic bent that didn’t make it any the less true. But when he spoke, he said, “Yes, but since you’re without a car, I thought I could run you back to your house on my way home when you’re finished here.�
�� He glanced at the snow still coming down. “It’s no day to walk.”

  She nibbled on her bottom lip for a long moment, then said, “An hour or so. I need to do a few things with the kids, catch up on a couple of—” She shrugged. “Just a few things, and I would appreciate a ride. Thank you, again.”

  He didn’t know why he felt so relieved that she’d accepted his offer, but he knew it was a lot better than heading away from here alone. “Good, that’s good.”

  She looked around. “First I need to figure out how to put together a table a donor gave to us, but it’s in pieces, and I don’t like puzzles.” She frowned. “The table could take a while to get right.”

  “Lady, you’re looking at a construction master,” he said, smiling broadly at her. “I’ll do that while you do whatever else you have to do.”

  “You can’t do that.”

  “Watch me,” he said, and then turned to Brandon. “Can you build stuff?”

  “Me and Joseph do Legos a lot,” the boy offered.

  “Perfect. You two lead the way to the pieces.”

  Erin suddenly pulled free of Merry’s hand and came across to Gage. Without any warning, she caught his hand in hers and held tightly to him. Gage glanced at Merry, lifting an eyebrow questioningly.

  “Erin loves to watch,” she said.

  Gage nodded down at her. “Want to help?”

  She shrugged.

  “Good enough,” he stated, then looked at the boys. “You two ready to do this?”

  “Can you really put stuff together?” Brandon asked.

  “Actually, I usually build things from scratch. In fact, Miss Brenner hired me to make you kids a bulletin board to go by the door.” That’s when he looked back at the entry door to the space and saw the paper sign Merry had told him she’d put up about her leaving and coming back. “Then Miss Brenner can use it to make announcements when she needs to.”

  “Okay,” Brandon said seriously. “Come on.”

  The boy started across the space, moving quickly for having a cast on his leg. Gage gazed beyond him at a pile of red wooden pieces and a scattering of hardware along with a hammer and some screwdrivers. He got to the materials for the table, and Brandon and the other boy started to sort through them. “Put pieces that go together, together,” Gage said. “Legs, supports, screws.”

  The boys did exactly what he said, but Erin never let go of his hand. “Don’t you want to help?” he said, crouching down in front of her. She shook her red curls. “I thought you could sort the screws and things?” She shook her head again. He wasn’t even getting a one word answer out of her. “Do you know where the screws are?” he asked, hopeful that she’d talk then, but she simply pointed to a neat pile of different length wood screws off to one side on a single sheet of white paper. “Oh, okay,” Gage said and stood, the little hand still gripping his.

  After almost an hour, Merry walked up to where Gage was sitting on the floor with Erin at his side. The child’s grip on his hand had changed to her holding a clump of his shirt sleeve, giving him a bit of freedom to manipulate the screwdriver and screws. “I’m about ready,” she said to him, then gasped. “Oh, my gosh, you really did it!”

  The boys were sitting near Gage, and the red table stood proudly in front of all of them. “They did a great job,” Gage said as he pushed to get to his feet. As soon as he was standing, Erin captured his hand with hers again.

  He looked down at her. “Miss Merry and I have to leave, Erin. I’m sorry.”

  She seemed stricken, but didn’t utter a word as she simply let go of him, turned and walked over to where Joseph sat watching them. “We need to get a red van,” the little boy with a pinched face said very seriously. “Red, like the table.”

  “Yes, yes we do, Joseph,” Merry said and crossed to crouch in front of him and Erin. “I’ll be back in the morning, and we will hunt around for some chairs to put with the table.”

  Marsala kneeled by Erin and held out her hand. “Let’s go look for those chairs for Miss Merry.” She spoke to the other kids. “Actually, let’s all go and find the chairs.”

  The kids nodded and gathered around Marsala, then headed off with her to another part of the huge room.

  Gage thought he saw some reluctance in Merry to go. “I understand a bit better why you took your promise so seriously,” he admitted as they headed down the hallway to the elevator.

  She stopped and gazed up at him, her head cocked slightly to one side as she considered him for a moment. “You do, don’t you?” She looked surprised, but pleased on some level. “You were terrific with Erin.”

  “You said both her parents are gone?” he asked.

  As they rode down in the elevator and crossed the reception area to the front doors, Merry told him that Erin had been abandoned by a drug addicted mother, who later died, then was taken away from her father because of his incarceration. The foster home she lived in was good, but not her family, and she ached for a real place to call home. He shook his head. “She’s so young.”

  “Too young, and too vulnerable,” Merry agreed. “She’s special, very special, and very alone. The center has been a real help to her. While she’s here during the day, she’s got a type of family with the other kids that all the children understand on some level.”

  They walked to the truck and got in. As soon as Gage had it going and the heater turned on, he let it idle while he rested his left arm on the steering wheel and his other hand on the back of Merry’s seat. “You’re right in the middle of all of it, aren’t you?”

  “I want to be.”

  “It can’t be easy.” He fought the urge to reach out and gently stroke her flushed cheek. “I’m not sure someone should be around sadness like that on a regular basis.”

  She closed her eyes for a moment, before looking back at him, and he could see the few snowflakes that clung to her auburn streaked hair, slowly melting. “The way I look at it, those kids are having a bad life, but me? I can do whatever I want. They don’t have that option. I want them to have that option,” she said simply.

  He gave in to his need and touched her cheek. Her warmth on his fingertips seemed to be seeping into him. “Those kids are so lucky to have you,” he rasped and moved closer. His hand cupped her chin, lifting it ever so slightly until he bent forward and found her lips. The kiss was a light connection, but it added to the heat unfurling inside him.

  He tasted her, felt her hand touching the spot over his heart, and then slipping up around his neck, pulling him closer. The kiss deepened. A world he’d never even known existed, opened to him in that moment, and he drew back, literally fighting for air.

  He looked at Merry, watched her eyes flutter, then open, and the connection intensified. “Oh, Gage, you understand,” she said, her voice a choked whisper. “I’m so...so...” She took a shuddering breath. “That’s so wonderful.”

  She was wonderful, no, more than that, and she was changing his world. He stroked her cheek, brushed at her silky hair, and could almost catch the taste of her on his lips. He didn’t want to lose whatever was happening right then, and he measured his words carefully. “I need to ask you something.”

  * * *

  MERRY WAS STUNNED. The kiss had shattered some barrier she knew she’d been trying to put up, to stop whatever had been happening to her since meeting Gage. But it was gone now, and she realized that she was so very close to loving him. The way he’d responded to Erin’s neediness had surprised her, and warmed her heart. His patience with Brandon and Joseph added to her growing hope for something. She hadn’t defined that “something,” but right then, with his taste still on her lips and his hand on her face, the definition fell into place with remarkable ease.

  Hope. She finally had some hope. Maybe hope for a miracle that was gradually being revealed to her. Slowly, she lifted her hand and covered his
where it touched her face. “A question?” she managed to ask, staring into his eyes that seemed to echo the intensity of her feelings. Hope. It grew slowly but persistently, but this time she didn’t fight it, she didn’t fear it. She embraced it.

  She saw him take a deep breath. “I have to leave in a day or so. The snow’s blocking the area now, so there’s no way to do the work I came to do, and I have meetings already set up in Florida and Houston.” She waited, not thinking about him leaving right now. He continued in a low voice. “I’m leasing a plane.”

  He actually smiled then, the dimple appearing and she moved her hand to touch the tip of her forefinger to it. “You’re going to fly?” she asked, her voice sounding very unsteady to her ears.

  “Certainly.” The smile faded a bit and she drew back as his hands left her face. “It’s like the old adage about horses—when you fall off, you get right back on.”

  She could feel her chest throbbing, and the overwhelming feelings from moments ago, were being overlaid by a growing fear. “Sure, but if you fall off a horse, you don’t drop twenty thousand feet into trees and snow and cold and...” She heard the hysteria explode in her voice and she cut off her own words.

  Gage watched her, his dark eyes narrowing, then he reached for her and held her to him. She ignored the way the side of her seat pressed into her hip, but just held tightly to him, burying her face in his chest. The idea that she could love him was eclipsed when she knew without a doubt, right then, that she already loved him and probably had for forever.

  “Hey, it’s okay. I’ll be fine.” His hand made circles on her back, but barely touched the fear that filled her.

  “No, it’s not okay. It’s not okay...” she mumbled against his chest.

  “It will be. I’m getting a good plane, maybe a bit bigger.” He said the words as if they should make all the difference in the world. “I need to get to the meetings, and it will take me to them.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut, and asked something that she had to know before she let things go any further. “When will you come home?”