by Syrie James
“Maybe for you. But not for me.”
“You’ll never know if you don’t give it a chance.”
“I don’t want to fly to Catalina. I’ve read about the airport there. It’s dangerous—it’s on a high, remote hilltop with a precipitous drop-off. They have a lot of accidents.”
“Don’t exaggerate. They have more accidents on L.A. freeways in one day than Catalina Airport sees in ten years. Airplane crashes just make the front pages, that’s all.”
“Maybe. But still—I read that some pilots compare the Catalina Airport to landing on an aircraft carrier.” She shuddered. “Too risky for my blood.”
“Everything we do involves a risk of some kind,” he returned softly. “What’s the point in living if you never venture out into new territory, never take any chances? You might as well be dead.”
She took a sharp breath but didn’t reply.
“Look, there’s nothing to worry about.” He gestured with an open palm. “I’ve been flying for thirteen years. I know what I’m doing. The weather is perfect today. And I’ve made this flight before.”
“I’m sorry. If you want to go to Catalina, that’s fine, but let’s take a boat. I don’t want to fly.”
He heaved a sigh, struggling visibly to keep his patience. “The cruises to Catalina are all sold out today—I already checked. We can fly there in fifteen minutes. I’ve been on the phone since six this morning setting this thing up. I had to pull a few strings to get the plane I wanted. I understand your concerns, and I know this is very short notice, but I made special arrangements on the island…I’ve got a whole day planned for us. I know you’ll love it. I don’t want to cancel it all now.”
She stood and took a few steps away. “I’m sorry you went to so much trouble. For all I knew, you were back in Seattle by now. If you were going to make all these elaborate arrangements, you should have asked me first.”
“Asked you first? How could I do that, after last night?” He took a deep breath, but it did little to calm him. “Anyway, this was supposed to be a surprise.”
“I appreciate that,” she said sincerely, “and the thought behind it. But it doesn’t change how I feel.”
“What is with you?” Kyle leaped to his feet. “Can’t you meet a new challenge for once in your life? You’re afraid to get involved with me. You’re afraid to go to bed with me. You’re afraid to ride in a plane. I’m surprised you have enough nerve to get in your car and drive to work every day.”
“That’s not fair,” she said, irritation prickling through her. “My reasons for not getting involved with you have nothing to do with my fear of flying.”
He braced tense fingers on the tabletop. “Then why are you so afraid?”
“Because my best friend was killed in a small plane crash! And I almost went with her that day!”
They stared at each other in silence across the table, his face frozen in shock.
After a moment, Desiree went on: “Her husband was the pilot. They’d only been married a few months. She was only twenty-five.”
A flicker of anguish shone in his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly.
“Pam was like a sister to me.” Her voice cracked and she cleared her throat before continuing. “When I find myself feeling angry over what happened, when I think what a waste it was she died so young, at the same time I know how relieved I am that I didn’t go with them. And that makes me feel guilty as hell.”
In a few quick strides he circled the table and took her in his arms. “I’m sorry, Desiree. So sorry. I wish I could take back what I said. I wish I could take away the pain you must feel.”
She released a wavering breath as her arms wrapped around his back. The hot tears that welled up in her eyes were tears of relief, not sorrow. It felt good to be back in his arms again.
“And I’m sorry about last night,” he added, his voice thick with emotion. “Sorry about everything. I said some ugly things, things I didn’t mean. I was frustrated out of my mind. I didn’t want to leave. I didn’t want to spend another minute without you.”
She tilted her head back and met his tortured gaze. “It wasn’t your fault, it was mine. I feel terrible about the things I said. I’m so, so sorry. Can you forgive me?”
“I already have. You had every right to react the way you did. Things have been moving at light speed between us. I’ve been all over you from the moment we met. I can only say again: I’m sorry. I’ve never felt or acted this way with a woman before—I don’t know what it is about you, or about me when I’m around you—but I promise I’ll be different from here on out. I won’t try to persuade you to do something you’re not ready for.” He gave her a quick squeeze, then released her. “Okay?”
She smiled weakly, drying her tears as he stepped away, an irrational sense of disappointment flooding her at the brevity of his embrace. “Okay. Thanks.”
“That said,” he added, meeting her gaze, “I’ll call and cancel my plans for Catalina today. Tell me what you’d like to do instead.”
***
The large white bird stood at attention on the parking strip, wings spread high and wide. Turquoise racing stripes were splashed across the body, nose, and tail, and sunlight gleamed off the wings. A friendly looking plane, Desiree decided, trying hard to ignore the tense knot of anxiety in her stomach. Maybe this won’t be so bad after all...
Once Kyle had left the decision up to her—after all the trouble he’d gone to in arranging this— she’d felt bad turning him down. She’d decided he was right: what was the point in living, if you never ventured out into new territory, never took any chances? And as long as she’d agreed to do it, she was determined to show him what a good sport she could be.
He’d spent a good half hour going over the safety statistics at the Catalina Airport, and reassuring her that the weather was in their favor, the plane was practically new, and he had all the experience required to land there safely.
She leaned against the corrugated aluminum building that housed the Long Beach Pilots’ Club and watched Kyle as he checked over the plane, inside and out, in minute detail. There was certainly nothing glamorous about private flying. Unlike the sleek sophistication of a modem commercial airport, the Pilots’ Club consisted of one small, stark office and a plane-filled parking lot of cracked asphalt, surrounded by a chain-link fence. She had to admit, though: the idea of hopping into one of these small craft and simply taking off into the air, the way she might take off down the street in her car, filled her not only with trepidation, but with excitement and anticipation.
Kyle attached a small metal tow bar to the front of their plane and signaled her to join him. “We need to tow her out of the lot. Grab hold of the wing and pull.”
Not wanting to show her surprise, Desiree stepped nimbly up to the front of one wing and grabbed the edge with both hands. The rounded ridge of aluminum felt smooth and cool. As Kyle yanked on the tow bar she lunged backward and gave a mighty tug. To her astonishment the plane rolled forward almost effortlessly.
“Okay, you can let go now,” Kyle called. “Just keep an eye on the wing tips. Make sure we’re clear of the other planes.” No wonder they call it a light plane, she thought as she watched Kyle tow the plane just past the parking area, her stomach re-knotting with apprehension. The thing seemed as flimsy as a child’s toy.
“Let’s go!” Kyle called a few minutes later.
She ducked down under the wing and opened the cockpit door. “Are you sure this tin can will make it all the way to Catalina?” she asked, striving for a light tone.
“Trust me.”
She smiled stiffly as she climbed up onto the smooth, leather seat and slammed the door. Settling back in her seat, she fastened her safety belt. Myriad gauges and switches, vaguely reminiscent of her console at the studio, covered the black panel before them. The cockpit was tiny, even smaller than the front section of a foreign compact car. Well, at least they’d be nice and cozy.
“Do you always do such a
thorough check before you take off?” she asked.
“You bet. I’m not taking somebody else’s word that this baby’s fueled up and in flying condition. I want to see it with my own eyes.” He consulted a small handbook on his lap, flipped several switches, and leaned out his open window. “Clear!”
A man working on a nearby plane stepped back and waved. Kyle kicked over the starter and the engine sputtered to life. A voice on the radio began to spew out information like a moderator at an auction. She only caught a few intelligible numbers and phrases.
Kyle picked up the hand microphone. “Long Beach Ground, Cessna nine three six five Uniform, Long Beach Pilots. Taxi to two five left with information Echo.” After a moment’s pause the voice on the radio replied with instructions in the same peculiar language. Kyle hung up the mike and grinned. “Funny. Somehow I feel like you should be talking on this thing.”
She laughed, finding his relaxed manner a balm to her apprehension. “No way. You talk a different language than any deejay I ever heard. What did they just tell you?”
“The first part was recorded weather information,” he said as they taxied toward the runway. “Winds, temperature, altimeter setting. After I identified myself, Ground Control gave me the takeoff point.”
“Sounded like Greek to me.”
“It’s a phonetic alphabet. Helps distinguish one letter from another. Prevents misunderstandings. A is Alpha. B is Bravo. C is Charlie—”
“E is Echo and U is Uniform,” she finished for him in comprehension.
“Exactly.” He guided the plane onto the runway and pulled to a halt. As the engine hum increased to a fevered pitch, she stole a glance at Kyle. His mouth curved into a youthful grin and his eyes smoldered with growing excitement, an enthusiasm that was both pleasing to see and contagious.
He called the tower. Her palms began to sweat and her heart drummed with anticipation. It’s going to be okay, she reminded herself. Don’t think about what happened to Pam. It was a freak accident. He knows what he’s doing.
A radio voice cleared them for takeoff. “Okay, here we go,” Kyle said.
The plane moved forward slowly, then began to pick up speed. The cockpit vibrated. The hum became a roaring buzz in her ears. Vast open fields raced by on both sides. The tower shot past. The tension in Desiree’s stomach heightened. Beads of sweat popped out on her brow. Then, suddenly, her stomach dropped as the plane lifted gracefully toward the sky. They were airborne.
“Yee-haw!” Kyle shouted with childlike glee.
“Wow!” Desiree heard herself shout. The anxiety that had built up inside her on the ground released itself in a roar of relieved laughter. The plane was buffeted slightly up and down and the engine continued its loud hum. Mingled with her fear, she felt an unexpected sense of lighthearted giddiness, as if she’d discovered a newfound sense of freedom.
“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” he asked.
She turned to look out her side window. The plane’s high wings allowed an undisturbed view of the ground. Familiar streets and landmarks flashed by, and all at once she felt a sense of smug superiority, floating so freely above all the people and cars stuck on the ground.
“This is great,” she answered, much to her surprise. “It’s almost like a ride at Disneyland.”
He laughed with delight and gave her thigh an affectionate squeeze.
In what seemed like minutes they were over the ocean. The dark-blue water shimmered below them. “It’s beautiful, Kyle.”
He grinned, his hands on the controls. “I knew you’d like it.”
When they reached the island, Kyle circled slowly around it and she held her breath in wonder. No Mediterranean island could be more beautiful than the sight of Santa Catalina as it rose majestically out of the sea. All dark browns and greens against the crystal blue ocean, the island’s jagged shoreline was interrupted only by a few small harbors and scattered beaches.
After Kyle received his landing instructions, Desiree eyed the island’s mountainous interior with concern. They swept past the island, over the ocean, then circled around the back again. “Where’s the airport?” she asked.
“Right there.” He pointed toward a high mountain plateau bisected by a ribbon of asphalt.
“That’s the runway?”
“Yes.”
Her mouth went dry. Even the reports she’d read hadn’t prepared her for the sight of something quite so scary. The short, paved road began just beyond a sharp drop-off…and ended at the edge of another cliff dropping straight down to the sea.
The cliff loomed closer. The engine roar quieted to a low hum. The plane slowed, aiming straight for the cliff’s top edge.
“Oh, God!” Desiree cried, leaning her head back against the seat and closing her eyes.
“Nothing to worry about,” he said reassuringly. “I’ve done this before. We’re fine.”
She nodded mutely. Nothing to worry about. We’re fine. She chanted the words over and over to herself. Suddenly she felt a lifting sensation, as if they’d floated up on a strong breeze. Then the plane drifted downward and touched ground more smoothly than she could ever have imagined.
Desiree could almost feel the brakes grabbing as the plane quickly decelerated, the vibration traveling through her body with blinding force. Her heart pounded violently as they slowed to a taxiing speed, then expertly turned and rolled on.
She opened her eyes and took a deep breath, noting that he had landed quite a distance away from the drop-off at the other end of the cliff.
“Nothing to it, was there?” he grinned.
She smiled, relief surging through her, along with a sense of admiration for his piloting skills. “Piece of cake.”
***
“Everything’s here, just the way I wanted it.” Kyle tossed the beach bag they’d brought into the trunk of the waiting sedan.
“What have you got in there?” Desiree glanced curiously toward the back of the car but he shut the trunk with a clang.
“You’ll see.”
He opened the door for her and she slid into the bucket seat. At his direction, she’d put on her bathing suit under her shorts and T-shirt in the airport rest room. He now wore sleek navy-blue bathing trunks which matched his shirt.
“How did you manage to get this car?” she asked after he’d climbed in and shut the door. “I heard that they don’t rent cars on the island.”
His eyes glittered mysteriously. “They don’t.”
“You must know someone who lives here, then.”
“I do.” He started the engine and headed out of the airport lot.
Noting the direction he was taking, she said, “This isn’t the road to Avalon, is it?”
She’d taken a one-day cruise to Catalina two years before, and had spent the afternoon with hordes of other sightseers, combing through the shops and museum in Avalon, the island’s one and only small harbor town.
“No,” he replied. “I can only take so much of that touristy stuff.”
“So where are we going?”
“You’ll see,” he said again. “I have something completely different in mind for us today.”
The narrow, winding road hugged the dry, desolate mountain on one side and dropped off sharply on the other. The terrain resembled a desert wilderness, mostly scrub oak, rock, and cacti. Soon, they rounded a bend and she caught sight of a small, lonely stretch of sand beach below rocky cliffs. He turned onto a bluff above the beach and parked next to the only other car there.
“Oh, Kyle, how wonderful.”
She jumped out of the car, ran to the edge of the bluff, and gazed down with growing excitement at the sparkling white sand and gently rolling surf beyond. The hot sun blazed in a cloudless sky over an endless, shimmering blue sea. The only people in sight were packing up their things and heading up the winding path along the cliffs.
“I’ve never seen a beach so empty on a Saturday. Why isn’t anyone else here?” she asked.
Kyle stepped up beside h
er and draped an arm casually across her shoulder. “Tourists can’t rent cars, so the only people who can get here are the islanders, and there aren’t many of those. This is the smallest beach, and the farthest from town, so I figured it wouldn’t be too crowded.” He raised an inquiring eyebrow in her direction. “Like it?”
“It’s incredible. It’s like being shipwrecked on a desert island. It’s paradise.”
He turned to face her. “I hoped you’d feel this way. I was here once on my own, several years ago. I’ve always dreamed of coming back, when I had someone special to share it with.”
Yesterday, she thought, he’d have wrapped his arms around her waist and whispered those words against her ear. She glanced up wistfully at him. After the things she’d said last night, the way she’d run so hot and cold, he was probably afraid she’d shrink back again if he got too close—and she couldn’t blame him.
“I’m glad I’m the special someone you chose,” Desiree said softly.
She could tell he was pleased by the soft glow in his green eyes. “So am I,” he answered.
***
“Now here’s what I call an ideal picnic spot.” Kyle set down the ice chest and wicker basket next to the rocky cliff and pulled a folded blanket out of the beach bag.
Desiree helped him spread the large, soft blanket across the sand, then stood up to admire the spot they’d found. The hot sun baked the beach like a giant oven—but this little, sandy alcove at the far end of the beach dipped in under the shade of dark, overhanging rocks, hiding them from view of the bluff high above. Just a dozen yards away the surf lapped the shore, but here the sand was fine, soft, and white.
“I can’t wait to try the water,” she said.
Kyle peeled off his shirt. She couldn’t resist a glance at the strong muscles of his smooth back as he raised his arms over his head. She had to restrain the urge to steal up behind him, touch the curved shoulder blades of his broad upper back, and curl her arms about his slim waist.