George raises a brow in question, and Marge smirks my way.
“Beth picked him out. We went to the shelter, and she pointed at him and said, ‘He’s got resting bitch face. Let’s get him.’ And that was that.”
I roll my eyes. “I was joking.” No, I wasn’t. Grumps looked pissed off that day, and I immediately knew that I wanted to be one of the few people in the world he didn’t hate.
There’s something life-altering about earning the love of an animal who doesn’t trust anyone else.
Kind of like earning Darla’s friendship.
“When are you two flying next?” Marge smiles between us like she’s setting up a playdate.
“I don’t—”
“There’s a club event this Sunday.” George looks to Marge, even though the words are for me. “Anyone available shows up with soap and sponges, and we wash the planes.” Now he focuses on me. “I thought you might want to come.”
“Oh, that’s perfect,” my stepmom crows. “Don’t you have Sunday off?”
From the diner I do. But I have a dinner shift at Beefies.
Not that I can tell Marge that. She may not hold a perpetual grudge against the Beefies establishment, but she will wonder why I have the sudden need to earn extra cash.
As far as she and my mom know, the medical debt we were drowning in was covered by a charity program run by the hospital. Those kinds of charities do exist, but that’s not where our relief came from.
“I do,” I say, reluctantly.
“That’ll be fun, then. And you can make some more plane friends.” Marge smiles up at me now, and before I get too annoyed about her meddling, I catch the compassion in her eyes.
The hint of understanding.
She knows I’m not fully comfortable with George and probably has some guesses as to why, even if they aren’t exactly right. But I take in the underlying meaning of her words.
Make some more plane friends.
Make some connections in the world of aviation that aren’t George Bunsen.
Don’t give up on lessons just because you’re not a fan of your instructor.
It’s sweet. And if disliking George was the only problem, then I could easily make a shift. But even if I find a new best friend in the club, I doubt they’ll teach me for free.
Still, I do want to make more friends in aviation.
“Okay.” I nod, glancing at George but fixing my eyes on the collar of his shirt rather than meeting his eyes. “I’ll go.”
Chapter
22
The airplane-washing eventis more enjoyable than I expected it to be. Probably because I’ve managed to keep at least a plane between me and George since the moment I arrived.
But also, the spring day is sunny and warm, and as we hose down and scrub the planes, I get to watch the occasional takeoff and landing on the nearby runway. Plus, I finally feel like I’m giving back, even if it just means scraping bugs off the windshield of a Cessna.
“How’s ground school coming?” Tim asks as he drags a soapy sponge over the propeller. The man has decided to take on the plane-washing task shirtless, the sun reflecting off his winter pale skin. I’m tempted to ask if he applied sunscreen, but he’s an adult who can take care of himself.
Although if it was Shawn, I totally would nag him about it.
“It’s going really well actually.” Soapsuds flick onto the ratty T-shirt I decided to wear. A freebie from a Red Cross blood drive that’s now speckled with paint and torn in a few places from catching on stray nails. My messy work shirt. Aka most of my shirts. “I foundan online program. I can work on it when I have a free moment.” Which usually ends up being close to midnight, and I try not to fall asleep halfway through.
Despite telling George I’d come to this event, I wasn’t sure I’d make it. I only plan to stay for an hour and then I need to get home to check on Mom before my secret shift at Beefies. Luckily, Mom is pro me being an independent woman, and she’s always fine with me giving her a vagueI’m going out. I tend to be the one who worries in our relationship.
