“Just great,” George growled. “How long does this ride last?”
“Well, this is the deluxe ride. We’re due to land on the Warner High School football field at three o’clock.”
George groaned. He glanced at the boys who now were more interested in looking at their dad’s phone than the sights down below. He was tempted to ask them to call 911 and ask for an ambulance to meet them at the high school. He felt nearly certain that if he didn’t suffer a heart attack, he would probably have a stroke. His blood pressure had to be sky-high.
To distract himself from his intense phobia, George watched as the two boys sat down on the floor next to him in order to play a video game on their dad’s phone. As much as he disliked electronic devices, he felt some appreciation for the stupid thing now. He watched the boys as they played, grateful for this odd bit of companionship.
Willow and Rod and the dad continued to chatter away about sights below and the direction of the prevailing wind—but George just sat on his bucket and wished this horrible ordeal would soon be over. Maybe he didn’t even care if they dumped his lifeless body onto the football field for curious onlookers to see. At least he would be done with this.
Willow and Rod checked on him off and on during what felt like the longest hour of his life. The dad nagged at his sons to stand up and enjoy the trip, finally taking his phone away so that they had nothing better to do than look down at the landscape below them. And finally, finally ... Rod turned down the propane flame and the balloon began to go down.
Of course, this motion of going down so quickly filled George with fresh nausea. So much so that as soon as they thumped onto the ground, George leaped to his feet and burst out of the gate—even though Rod tried to stop him. George didn’t realize that the basket had hopped up a few feet until he tumbled onto the ground and rolled into a crumpled heap.
“Oh, George,” Willow exclaimed as she went to join him. “Are you all right?”
“I don’t know,” he said sharply.
“Did you break anything?”
“I don’t think so.” He pushed himself up with a dark scowl.
“You weren’t supposed to get off that quickly.” She helped him to his feet. “You could’ve been hurt.”
“It’s a wonder I didn’t leap from that stupid thing while we were still in the sky,” he sputtered. “I’ve never had such a terrible experience in my life.”
“I’m sorry—”
“Goodbye, Willow,” he snapped. Then, without another word, he stormed off toward home.
A fine way to thank someone! George should’ve known better than to trust that woman. Willow West was just plain crazy. And George had had enough!
seventeen
Willow felt terrible about George’s disappointing balloon ride and wouldn’t be surprised if he never spoke to her again. She knew the prudent thing would be for her to leave him alone—and yet she felt like she still owed him a thank-you gesture. It’s just that she had no idea what that would be. Perhaps the best thing she could do for him would be to do nothing. But that was just not her style.
Willow knew that she didn’t fully understand George, but she suspected that he was trapped in a life that he didn’t particularly love. Oh, George thought he liked the calm, quiet, predictable existence that he’d carved out for himself. But she’d had glimpses of another George. A man who was hungry for more—a man who regretted letting life pass him by. How to tap into that? She just wasn’t sure.
After a week had passed by—without crossing paths with George—Willow felt concerned. She imagined him holed up in his little house, afraid to step out and engage with anyone. Was it possible the balloon ride had seriously set him back?And if so, wouldn’t that be her fault? And if it was her fault, shouldn’t she do something to remedy it?
Willow read the biweekly newspaper, glancing at the local shelter’s pet ad, just like she did every Friday. Her interest was twofold. She loved animals and liked the idea of them being rescued into a good home. But she also hoped to run across a pet that would suit her lifestyle. She wasn’t sure if it would be a dog or cat. Or perhaps even a bird. But she was open to a pet and, one day when life wasn’t too hectic, she planned to visit the shelter to find one. However, she knew that a single trip to the shelter would result in adopting a pet, and she wanted to be sure she was truly ready.
The photo in this week’s pet ad made her heart beat faster. She stared in wonder at the tiger-striped cat with big eyes and a friendly expression. As she read further, she learned it was a four-year-old Maine Coon cat named Baxter, whose elderly owner had recently passed on. Without stopping to think, she grabbed her purse and keys, hopped into her car, and drove straight to the shelter. She hoped against hope that the cat was still there.
“We’ve had numerous calls about Baxter,” the woman at the front desk informed her. “But you’re the first one to show up.”
“May I see him?”
“Certainly.” The woman led Willow back. “If I didn’t already have three cats, I’d take him myself.”
“I’ve heard that Maine Coon cats are special,” Willow said.
“This one is. He’s got personality and intelligence.” The woman opened a cage. “Meet Baxter.”
“Hello, Baxter.” Willow reached in to pet the cat. “Howare you doing?” He rubbed his head against her hand and then she reached in and scooped him up. “You’re a heavy fellow.” She looked at his oversized paws. “And big feet too.”
“Those are characteristic of a Maine Coon cat.” She pointed out a few more things that made these cats special.
“Well, I’d like to adopt this guy,” Willow told her. “I thought I was getting him for a friend, but now that we’ve met I’m tempted to keep him myself.”
