Imogen encourages Sunny from her place on my back. “It’s so fun when my dad flies. You’re gonna like going on a plane, don’t worry.”
The fact that I’m the pilot finally registers with Sunny. The look of terror on her face would be comical if it wasn’t so hurtful.
“I learned to fly a few years back. I got the plane to make traveling less…”
“Safe?” she fills in.
“Oh, you’ll be safe. I’m an excellent pilot. I’ve only crashed a few times. Right, Im?”
“Dad!” She giggles against my neck. “Just so you know, my dad doesn’t crash. He is super good at flying.”
I hitch Immy higher onto my back, feeling the need to sell Sunny on an Anders Airline experience. “Yeah. Super good. Flying is a rush.You’ll see. Besides, this makes traveling less public. It gets us places without dealing with crowds. I can go through smaller airports. This thing is big enough for me, Immy, Hairy, and Oliver—”
“The whole family,” she interrupts with a laugh. There’s some shakiness in her voice that makes me wonder if she’s more nervous about having me as a pilot, or flying in general.
I squeeze her hand. “You nervous?”
“Yeah.”
We reach the plane and I swing Immy down from my back. She skips around the plane, energy restored. “What are you nervous about?” I ask Sunny, unlatching the door. Maybe I can talk her through this so it will be fun for her.
“Burning alive in a plane crash. Mercer and Hairy lighting my condo on fire. Nizhóní going down in flames while I’m gone. The usual.”
Geez. I’m glad Immy was out of earshot during that laundry list of horrors. There’s a lot of fire in this woman’s worst-case scenarios, but one look in her glassy, brown eyes tells me she isn’t joking. My heart squeezes for her. “I’ll have Oliver double-check the fire extinguishers and smoke detectors. I promise I won’t crash the plane. Hairy can teach Mercer how to stop, drop, and roll. We’ve got this, Sunflower. You’re going on an adventure.”
She exhales, long and deep, and something in her big, brown eyes changes. She flashes one of her blinding, knockout smiles and this time my heart pounds against my ribs. “Okay.”
“That easy, huh?”
“I still can’t believe you left Hairy with Mercer.” Her shaky laugh gives her away, but I’m proud of her for facing this fear head-on.
I shrug, organizing our bags into the cargo area. “It was Oliver’s idea. He says they're a perfect pair. It worked out since you didn’t invite her along like you were supposed to.”
“I know… things are just too crazy at the resort right now.” She sighs. “And I love alone time.”
Sunny watches quietly through my flight pre-check, which isn’t abnormal for her. She’s not a huge talker. In unfamiliar situations, like on set the other day, she seems to prefer standing back to observe. When we take off, I hear her little gasp through my headset and she latches onto my forearm until we finish our ascent. Besides that, she’s silent, her brown eyes wide and taking everything in. I’m busy keeping my promise not to crash, so I’m preoccupied, but Imogen makes enough conversation for all of us.
She points out rust-colored cliffs below, and one fat, white Hairy-shaped cloud in the cornflower blue sky. She giggles, then laments the fact that we couldn’t bring Hairy this time. Then she moves on to comments about how the ground looks like a big blanket and the trees and shrubs look like yarn tied through a quilt. Then she wonders aloud if my mom is going to make chocolate balls for us this time. Eventually she peters out, her head lolls against her seat, and she falls asleep.
Not long later we’re winging our way northward to Minnesota when Sunny’s voice comes through my headset, breaking through the constant drone of the twin-engine airplane and occasional radio chatter.
“This is unbelievable, Anders.”
Something in her tone has changed and I realize she’s blinking back tears. Her watery eyes are wide, taking in the expanse of blue sky and clouds, and the corners of her mouth turn up in a gentle smile. The late morning sun shines through the window behind her, catching gold highlights in her dark hair—or maybe that’s remnants of my daughter’s accidental dye job. Either way, she is radiant. Everything about her glows and I want to draw closer and closer to her warmth. Her authentic, unashamed delight in this short flight on a thirty-year-old, no-bells-and-whistles airplane makes me want to wrap her in bubble wrap and stand between her and the world. She is too good for this planet.Earth, you do not deserve this woman.
For once in my life, I don’t know what to say. How do I gather all of my thoughts into a response that won’t scare her away? Instead, I pull her hand to my mouth and press a kiss to the inside of her palm. She doesn’t need to know what’s happening in my head. Yet.
I’m sure my thoughts are plastered all over my face and showing through everything I do, anyway. Yesterday Christopher said that if he doesn’t end up firing me, I should send him a wedding invitation. I can fly a plane and bungee jump off of tall bridges. I do my own stunts, hanging off cliff faces hundreds of feet above the desert. But that? That offhanded, half-joking comment from a guy who knows me well drained the blood from my face.
Thankfully, Sunny breaks through my thoughts with a comment that catches me completely off guard.
“You’re better at this than I expected.” She nods in the general area of the control panel and yoke. “You’re a decent pilot.”
That startles a laugh out of me. “What did you expect?” I ask, incredulous.
“That came out all wrong.” She laughs, too, which I don’t love. “I mean, you don’t fly the way I thought you would. I was sure you’d be doing barrel rolls up here just to get a rise out of me.”
“You think I want to scare you?”
