A rumble of a laugh shakes my body, and I touch her arm lightly. “I won’t have to do this a lot. I’m kind of, ah, filling in for someone. Don’t worry,” I coax. “Hey, what do you say? Do you want to go paint the town red with me? It will be a quick flight. You can even fly us if you want to scare me again.”
She smiles. “How can I say no to that?” I release her when I realize every single word and move is being scrutinized by her parents. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Caroline is still caught up in us, so she isn’t aware.
“I found out today,” I say loudly, including everyone in the conversation. “We have a block of rooms at a verynice, very safe hotel in Manhattan. I assure you, despite our presence there, that city is one of the most protected in the country. The problems we’ll be dealing with are on the outskirts.” Lie. Lie. Lie. “You’ve never been there, right?” I ask Caroline.
Shaking her head, she says, “Of course not! Shirley is going to die when I tell her. She’s always wanted to go! Oh my gosh.” A woman who flies an airplane but hasn’t visited a bustling city mere hours away boggles my mind, but I’m learning. Caroline has quirks and hang-ups like any other woman. Hers are just not as…normal. Or, at least, not what I’m used to.
“She can come if she wants,” I offer, hoping she declines. The prospect of having her all to myself in a different atmosphere fills me with anticipation. “I can show you both around. I’ve been there quite a lot over the years. There’s so much to see,” I explain.
“He goes from business partner to showing our baby around one of the biggest cities in the world,” May says, tone droll.
“Now, now, dear. Remember the time we went to the city? How much fun we had? I think it will be an amazing experience for her.”
Caroline interrupts. “I’m not a baby, Daddy. Not even close. I’m a full-grown woman capable of touring a big city all by myself if I wanted to.” She wouldn’t do that, we all know that. Mr. May nods his head, because even he knows when not to push a woman. “I’d love to go with you, Tahoe,” Caroline says, sliding her head to meet mygaze, and then bounces back to look at her mom. “As long as Mama can live without me at the diner.”
Her mom squints, like Caroline’s words sting her on a soul level. “Of course, the diner can live without you. Never feel like the restaurant is holding you back, honey.”
Mr. May clears his throat. “You should know better. Your mama can replace you anytime you want. We both know you’re going to want to spend more time at the airport as I ease my way out. We were expecting you to call it quits before now, to be honest. You’ve been so busy working on that apartment, and with hurricane season approachin’, you’re about to get even busier, I’d reckon.”
Caroline looks down at her lap and our entwined hands. “If you say so,” she replies softly.
“Whatever you want, darlin’,” Mrs. May says. “You definitely need to go on that trip. Shirley can cover for you when I can’t.”
Mr. May swigs back the rest of his beer. “You’ll take care of her then?” he asks.
I hold up my hand, palm facing outward. “On my honor, sir.”
He nods, and I nod back. Mrs. May laughs and claps her hands together. “This is such exciting news. I knew you were going to be a good thing for her, but I didn’t imagine you’d be the one to open up the world.”
“Her world is already open. I’m excited to show her another piece of it,” I reply, using caution with my words. When I dated Stella, I was constantly remindedthat words matter. As infuriating and frustrating as it was to get my language just so, I suppose the usefulness carried over. Words are, quite literally, forever.
Caroline sulks, arms folded, bottom lip inside her mouth. “You approve then?” she says. A beat or two passes before I realize she’s asking her parents if they approve of me.
“We know he’s capable of making you happy,” Mr. May says, looking at me. “Maybe he doesn’t fly planes, but he jumps out of them, so I guess that counts for something.”
“He commits,” Mrs. May announces, interrupting her husband. My palms sweat at her proclamation, but isn’t that exactly what I did from the moment I decided to befriend Caroline? First, I committed to infiltrating her life—getting the airport. Next came the complicated part: deciding she was worth the risk. The ultimate commitment.
“Mom, please. That’s presumptuous,” Caroline whispers.
She tsks in response. “You are a gem. A prize in this world. We spoke about this already. I think you two make a terrific couple, and we’re happy for you. Commitment is important, honey. It’s what separates the men from the boys.” Mrs. May glances at me, winking slyly.
I’m sure the gesture is her rendition of a threat, and that’s all well and good, but I don’t need her threats. The threat looming inside my chest is enough to propel me into this relationship full steam ahead.
When I was growing up, I was aware I was an all-or-nothing type of boy. That quality carried over to my teens and then my carousing in adulthood. Merely joining the Navy like my dad wasn’t good enough. I needed to work my way into the most elite tier of the military. I was all in. When I was hunting pussy, I was all in. When any goal presented itself, I crushed it. It’s a strong character trait on a good day and a debilitating disease the next. Right now, I’ve committed to making sure Caroline’s heart is cared for properly. Fucking her too soon, and I’m doing a disservice to her and to my own intentions. Waiting too long, and I’m asking for trouble from every other swinging dick in this town that wants a piece of her. Middle ground is what I’m searching for and hoping to land on. Tonight. After this dinner.
“She’s right,” I say to Caroline. “You are a gem.” Her cheeks flush, and she looks down to her lap again.
Mrs. May laughs, pleased I’m siding with her. “You are such a flatterer,” Caroline mutters. Then she asks me for details about the NYC trip. I tell her and the rest of the table as much as I know and can. “Can we go to Central Park?” she asks
I nod. “There’s a deli next to the park that I go to anytime I’m in town. You’ll love it,” I say.
“When you get back, hurricane season starts,” Mr. May says, reminding her of her airport duties. That piques her interest, and it isn’t long before she’s lost in conversation about storms and aircrafts and weather. Sort of like my grandparents, who like to banter about the chance of rain on a Wednesday afternoon. While they talk, I help Mrs.May clear the table, stacking as many dishes as possible before entering the kitchen behind her.
“You’re a natural,” she jokes, taking the top plate that has a glass balancing on it. “If you need a waiting job, I know where you can find one.”
I grin, and I see her face change, and I know whatever she has to say next isn’t something she relishes talking about. “I’m afraid I can’t be employed outside of the Navy, ma’am.”
“That’s a shame,” she says, eyes downcast into the sink filled with soapy water. “What are your plans for the bed and breakfast?” she asks, moving a sponge against a plate.
