Come Fly With Me

by Sandi Perry

  Alex disentangled himself from his mother’s firm grip. “Mama, no one refers to people living in New York as Yankees anymore, as you very well know. Stop being intimidating.”

  Celeste pulled back and looked from her son to Allison. She straightened up and took a deep breath, “Excuse me, Allison, I didn’t mean to sound so critical.”

  Annabelle stepped into the circle, "That's right, Mama, you meant to sound only moderately critical. Now, now, let’s all be friends.”

  Allison noticed that they were suddenly surrounded by what she assumed were all the Coventry women and their spouses. She was grateful for Alex's steady presence at her side, as if to signal his allegiance to her.

  "This is Annabelle and her husband Chase," Alex said.

  She smiled and nodded as a headache began to form.

  "Over here are Mirabelle and Wade, Sara Belle and Beauford, and rounding it out are Bella Sue and Brett."

  There were varying reactions to her being there, ranging from warm acceptance to

  downright suspicion. Allison was unprepared for Alex's response, which was for him to take her around by the waist and declare in a loud voice. "And I expect you all to make Allison feel the full heft of your southern charm. Be sure and keep your fangs retracted throughout today's festivities—or y'all will have me to answer to."

  Allison turned to look at him, so touched was she by his protectiveness. She took in his strong profile, the uncharacteristic force of his words and said, "Thank you, Alex. I'm sure there's no need to resort to threats. Right?" She said that last word as she looked out onto the hushed group.

  They all seemed to rouse from their silence at the same minute and shouts of "A pleasure to meet you! How do you know Alex? You're so lovely!" wafted over her in a hurried acceptance. She did her best to respond and noticed that at one point Alex had slipped away. She wasn't pleased to be left alone in a bayou full of gators masquerading as his family. She spotted him off to the back of the yard, organizing the older children in a touch football game and excused herself, walking over to the white-wicker gazebo at the end of the yard to take a rest and watch him interact with the children.

  They seemed to be enamored of him. She knew he was a novelty because he didn't get back home often, but the relationship appeared to be genuine and warm. She envied his ease with children. She generally froze around kids; she never knew what to talk them about or which activities were age-appropriate. Alex had the kids arranged in teams. She had to stifle a laugh; he seemed to be taking the game very seriously. He had a whistle clamped between his teeth as he gesticulated wildly at the ad hoc group. If he weren't head and shoulders above them, she would have mistaken him for one of the kids. Allison closed her eyes to take in the last rays of sunshine. Even the birds chirped greedily, as if aware that this unusually warm day of Indian summer was about to end. She sensed someone coming up from behind and opened her eyes in enough time to see Wade step in to sit across from her on the opposite bench.

  "Hey," he said.

  "Hi."

  He gestured with his head at the sisters all gathered, setting the table for dinner, "It can be overwhelming."

  "And very beautiful," she smiled.

  "From a distance, yes," Wade replied.

  "When I go out to eat, I make it a point never to look in the kitchen," Allison said.

  "Is that because you don't care what goes on behind the scenes; or you care so much, you'd never eat out again?"

  "The latter—most things don't fare well under a microscope," she said.

  "So, after this birthday party, I'd say the odds would be pretty strong you'd hightail it out of here and never come back," Wade laughed. "You see Annabelle and Chase over there? That was a shotgun wedding. Annabelle was pregnant with Seth; he's playing quarterback, right now."

  Allison followed his head as it swiveled from Annabelle to Seth, tall and awkward, throwing the ball on the other end of the backyard.

  "Chase and my father-in-law barely talk. Chase resents that he was forced into marriage, and Horatio resents that he couldn't keep it in his pants. Apparently Chase still has a hard time keeping it in his pants—they have five kids."

  Allison's eyes went wide, "They seem happy, though."

  Wade shrugged. "Sara Belle and Beauford separated a year ago because they were having some financial difficulties, and Beau started hitting the bottle again."

  Allison looked at Sara Belle's rounded stomach and raised her eyebrows. "It looks like they got back together a few months ago."

  "Well, Beau went on a drunken rampage and broke into the house after Sara changed the locks. He confessed his undying devotion to her and promised to join AA. They had makeup sex, and hence a little bundle of joy is on its way—number three."

  Wade continued, "Bella Sue got caught fooling around with Brett's best friend the night before their wedding. They've been trying to make it work ever since."

  "How long have they been married?" Ally asked.

  "Four years," he said.

  "I see, and Mirabelle?"

  "Oh, we're perfect. And we have three kids," Wade said.

  "Glad to hear that!" she said with relief in her voice.

  Wade laughed heartily, "You see, we're all perfect. Ask any of them, and they would each say they have model marriages. No one would change a thing—its dysfunction elevated to an art form. We're a passionate group and even though we're ready to tear each other's eyes out at a moment's notice, we protect our own. Alex is very bright and very talented, flaws and all."

  Allison looked nervously at Wade, afraid he might have a screw loose. But his laughter was so infectious, she found herself joining in. "The children seem to adore Alex. Is it always like this with him?"

  "Yes. We stick around day to day, slogging through it all, and then he shows up and the kids flock around him like the pied piper. But it's fine; he'll get his one day when he becomes a parent."

  Allison nodded, "I think I'd best join the ladies over there," she pointed, "And help set up dinner. I enjoyed our talk; it isn't often that I get a ringside view into other people's lives. It's a good reminder never to judge."

  Wade stood up, got a couple of icy beers and made his way over to where Alex was sprawled on the grass. She smiled as she saw Alex take a long swig, and hold up his bottle in a mock salute, waving her over to where they were parked.

  "I was just telling Alex I think you're terrific," Wade said."And gorgeous."

  "I figured you'd notice," Alex said.

  "The thing I like most about you, Allison, is that you come right out and say what's on your mind rather than wrapping it up in a honey-spun bow," said Wade. "I've felt more than one of those choke me around the throat the minute I turned my back—"

  "You should have moved to the east coast while you still had the chance," Alex chuckled.

  "Well, fellas, much as I like being praised, I'm not the one under scrutiny," she said as she smiled sweetly at Alex. "I'm heading over to the ladies to see if they can use a hand with dinner."

  She heard the last fragments of their conversation as the wind carried it her way.

  "She's says you guys are business associates. But you want more," Wade said.

  "Wouldn't have a pulse if I didn't want more."

  They had a good laugh and sobered as they saw her confident stride as she headed toward the table. "She sure is brave," they said in unison as they jumped up to rescue her.

  ****

  Alex sat close to Allison, his arm resting casually on the back of her chair. She had to take deep calming breaths every time he reached past her to get the potato salad or more wings.

  "Alex, I'm going inside, I need to freshen up." She had to get away and breathe some Alex-free air.

  "Sure, just don't take too long—you don't want to miss dessert."

  "Oh right, birthday cake of course. I'm hoping for chocolate."

  "I'm fairly certain it's a vodka-laced special recipe called Harvey W—Mother's favorite. If you don't like that y
ou can have the Bourbon Apple Pie, or Rum Pecan Pie, or my personal favorite, Kahlua Fudge Brownies. The kids love those."

  She got up and shook her head, "I didn't just fall off the turnip truck, Alex. No one gives liquor-laced brownies to children."

  "Well, sure we do, honey," Mirabelle piped up. "How else do you think we can get them to sleep after all the day's excitement?"

  Allison stalked off in the direction of the house, wondering what the local number was for child services. The beautiful azure sky of earlier was changing to midnight blue as dusk fell. A new chill was in the air. A set of double French doors led from the patio into an expansive kitchen, and Allison was grateful for the warmth as she entered. The multicolor slate tiles, with their vibrant fiery tones lent an instant charm to the massive room. The light green wash over the natural maple cabinets lent an airy feel to the banks of cabinets that would have been overwhelming in a darker tone. Scents of cinnamon and apple comingled delectably, adding to the homey feel of the space. She stopped dead as she spotted Horatio Coventry and the cook assembling the various desserts onto trays.

  Alex's father looked up from his task and saw the surprised look on her face. "Didn't expect to see me so domesticated? You probably already think I'm horse-whipped, and now I'm pulling KP duty. Judging from your expression, I take it your father didn't spend much time helping out in the kitchen."

  She was disoriented by his directness, as well as the apron dotted with black and white Dalmatians that he had tied around his waist. She shook her head to clear it and said, "My father felt the kitchen was a woman's domain."

  He nodded. "It relaxes me. I think everyone should be able to do what makes them feel good, regardless of gender, and I've always felt that way, even before it was fashionable."

  "Mr. Coventry, I am here to observe Alex, I'm in no position to make judgments about anything or anyone."

  "Alex holds you in high regard."

  "Thank you. You're not like he made you out to be."

  "That's true. I had to push him out from under the cloud of his mother's perfume. He fought me all the way, but now he wears his independence proudly. I don't mind being the fall guy. There are sacrifices we all have to make to prod our children along."

  She developed an instant fondness for this imposing business tycoon in his ridiculous apron who knew when to step back and let others shine. She was sorry Alex couldn't see the obvious love his father had for him. Her own father's sudden death crept into her mind, and she blinked back the tears.

  "I don't mean to cut our conversation short, but can you direct me to the bathroom?" she said to cover her unexpected wash of emotions.

  "Third door on your left, off the back hall," Horatio said."Oh, and don't be overly concerned about the brownies. They're my secret recipe. I only add a tablespoon of liquor, but the kids seem to have fun with it."

  Before she stepped out of the kitchen, Allison turned around to face him, "For what it's worth, I think you're terrific."

  She continued down the hallway and passed by a large room where the clank of pool balls rang out. One of Annabelle's daughters and one of Mirabelle's were playing pool. Another group of children was at the other end, gathered around a large screen wall-mounted TV. One of them, Seth, she was sure, had a plastic guitar around his neck and he was following along to the song as the notes appeared on the screen. Taylor, Sara Belle's eight-year old, turned to see Allison.

  "What are they playing?" Allison asked her.

  "You never heard of Guitar Hero?"

  She shook her head.

  "You don't have any kids?"

  Allison shook her head again.

  Taylor's pigtails bounced in tandem, like over-wound corkscrews. Allison was mesmerized by their playful movement and almost missed her pitying response.

  "That's sad, but you will, after you marry Uncle Alex. Momma says before you know it those babies start popping out."

  "She's not marrying Uncle Alex, you dork," Zeke, her twelve-year brother chimed in. "Not after she sees this crazy family."

  Taylor glared at him. "We're not crazy, Zeke! Momma says that when you really love somebody you show all your faces. She said it's important to love each other, even with all our faults, which by the way, you have the most out of everyone."

  Allison was desperate to change the topic, but couldn't believe an eight-year old was pitying her, "You don't want to play guitar?" she asked Taylor.

  "The older kids won't let us younger kids play until they're done with it. I'll just read my book until I get a turn."

  "Planning on waiting four years?" Zeke taunted, his braces-filled mouth glinting off the spotlights in the room, temporarily blinding Allison.

  Seth put down the guitar, "Hey, squirt," he said to Taylor, "It's your turn."

  "No, it's not," Marissa stood up. "We're going in age order—that means I'm next."

  "Sit down, Sis. I'm the oldest, and I'm deciding that it's Taylor's turn."

  Seth turned toward Allison and put out his hand. "I'm Seth Garland. My advice to you is to run while you have the chance. Not that Alex isn't a great guy, but his judgment isn't always the greatest."

  He turned to Derek, his fifteen-year old cousin. "Remember three years ago when Alex told us to steal old Mrs. Limons' newspaper out of her front yard? She was so worked up about the missing papers; she kept calling the paperboy every day and accusing him of forgetting about her. When he was fired, we jumped in and took over the route. Derek and I made enough money that year to buy a couple of shares in Apple." Seth looked her coolly in the eye. "That's the real Alex—I just thought you should know."

  "Thank you Seth. I appreciate your candor." Allison walked out of the family room a bit shaken up. She was aware of Alex's unorthodox methods of doing things, but teaching children to steal? It was reprehensible. She wandered through the rest of the mansion in a daze and was surprised to find herself at the front door. Freud would have a field day with this one. Don't need to think twice about it, she thought as she walked through the door. She stood on the veranda with her cell phone in hand, futilely hoping for more bars to show up on her screen.

  A sleek, silver Jaguar pulled around front, and Brett called out through the open window to her, "Need a lift? I'm heading into town."

  Allison hesitated only for a second before sprinting down the tall, white column of steps. "Thanks," she said simply, giving no explanation for her hasty retreat.

  "We ran out of beer," Brett said. "There's not enough beer in the world to take the bite out of having everyone together. It's like Thanksgiving dinner to the tenth power."

  Allison cracked a smile and felt her tension ease the farther away they drove.

  "Where are you headed?" he asked.

  "You can drop me off in town; I'll cab it back to the hotel."

  They sat in silence for a couple of miles. Brett spoke, "Bella Sue and I got off to a rocky start, but we're doing okay now. Love heals all."

  "That sounds like a Byron poem. Life is more prosaic."

  "Only if you let it. It's a decision—to jump in with both feet, an open heart, and eyes closed tight."

  "Why eyes shut? I would think having your eyes wide open would be the best thing you could do for yourself."

  "Marriage isn't about you—it's about the other person," Brett said. "Well, here we are." He rolled to a stop in front of the local convenience store. "I'd be happy to continue on and drop you off at your hotel."

  "Thanks, but I can't put you out. You've been a lifesaver," Allison said as she climbed onto the curb and shut the passenger door. She stuck out her hand. "Brett, it's been a pleasure getting to know you for the last twenty minutes. Good luck with everything."

  Brett shook hers in return, "Allison Ross, I hope you find what you're looking for."

  Allison's eyebrows knit together at that parting remark. She stood alone on the corner of an unfamiliar street in a strange town while she waited for the cab she had called from Brett's car to come pick her up. She could not rem
ember the last time she had felt so lost.

  Chapter 15

  Allison was back in her hotel suite later that evening and had a charcoal pencil in her hand. She worked from memory, trying to recapture the images of the celebration. The play of light and dark, as the menacing wooded perimeter of the property encroached on the sun-dappled expanse of lawn was a particular focus of hers. There was a knock at the door, and she put down her pencil to answer it. At the last second, she covered the sketch with a newspaper that had been lying on the table. Alex wordlessly entered the room as she stepped aside to let him in.

  He handed her a bag, "I didn't know which you'd prefer, so I saved a slice of each for you. The brownies were finished before I could get near them."

  She took in the grim set of his mouth. So this was serious Alex. Hallelujah, he does exist, she thought. She watched as he paced the room, sleek as a cat, running his fingers through his light, wavy hair. He seemed uncharacteristically stressed. Well, that's what happens when your past actions come back to bite you in your ass, Alex. She realized he had stopped pacing and as she blinked back to attention, she noticed him holding her sketch.

  Alex studied it carefully. He turned to face her, his eyes sharp with accusation.

  "I knew it," he said.

  She said nothing in reply.

  "Now I understand why I had such a strong reaction to your painting; the one that I bought. I was connecting to you." He seemed furious as he pulled out a chair at the paper-strewn table and sat down.

  He propped his ankle over his knee, but Allison was aware that each of his movements was deliberate—calculated to throw her off guard. She had been hyperaware of him from the moment he'd stepped into her office a month ago. They'd been dancing around each other ever since, and she was not about to cede her edge now. As she sat down, she took the pony holder from her wrist and efficiently tied her hair into a knot, letting the last twist of the rubber band sound off a satisfying snap. She could be annoyed, too. She waited for him to share what was on his mind; she didn't have to wait long.