“Of course. But first, I think Pappa has some fun things planned for us today.”
Sonny plays in the living room while we clean up.
I pick up my thoughts about the playbook where I’d left off. “The coach wanted us to settle down, and if I’m honest, I’d be the only one accused of being married to football. The rule was more for the others.”
Her eyes flash.
“I invested everything in the game. But I don’t mind the idea of a second chance at settling down.”
“What about breaking the playbook rules?”
“I suppose we’re already married, so maybe the rules don’t apply.” I can’t see myself, but I am sure that the lopsided grin that matches my brother’s spreads wide. “A loophole of sorts.”
Everly beams a smile as though that’s what she hoped I’d say.
“Except for #BruiserButt and a few other misdeeds over the years, football saved me.”
“I wish I’d let skating save me.”
“It’s not too late. Have you been lately? There’s a rink in town. Well, across the lake.”
“I’m just not sure what I want for the future.” The words are like a lead fishing sinker.
I rinse the last of the dishes. “Where does that leave us?”
She takes the plate out of my hand and grips my jaw, gazing into my eyes as though belatedly understanding what the conversation sounded like. “Where does that leave us? Here. Right here. I just meant that I’m not sure what to do with my life. I’m probably not going to have a job after this, at leastat Blancbourg. I guess I’m getting ahead of myself by thinking about what’s next.”
“As you said, we have right now. Also, sometimes in life, we need to do something physically to change or improve a situation, but when it comes to things beyond our control, when worry or uncertainty takes hold, when there’s nothing more that we can do and it’s out of our hands, my mother always said,We fold them together and pray,” I say, reaching for her hands.
Funny, I forgot about that until now.
They’re so soft and small and perfect inside mine. Like they belong to me, and I feel like mine belong to her.
My eyes skate to the framed family photo. Fear pricks me just then because, in the past, everyone I love except my mother has been taken away. What if I lose Everly, too?
“Seems like something to pray about. Good thing we’re going to church,” she says, pulling me from my desperate thoughts.
28
GREY
After cleaning up from breakfast, we cross the lawn to the lakeshore where the seaplane is docked. Sonny gambols around, chasing birds and driving his toy truck along a fallen tree limb. I have numerous old friends and connections in the area. They’re always eager to help, and I compensate them well for the upkeep of the cabin, grounds, food delivery, and, of course, maintaining the plane.
Sonny spreads his arms like wings and flies around as I prepare. Then, like flight is as much in his blood as sailing—my father’s side and mother, respectively—he hops into the plane.
I pat the metal side affectionately. “Ah. The old girl.” My ring glints in the morning light, but whether Everly notices, she doesn’t say anything.
“Old?” Everly asks, uncertain about flying in such a small contraption.
“This was my father’s and was named after Mom.” I point to where the nameIngridis printed in red script near the belly. “It was Pierceson Adams’s first plane. The investment he took a gamble on and grew into a small fleet to support the family,” I say fondly.
“It works?” Everly asks.
“Trust me. Also, according to my dad, Mom wore the same look on her face when he proposed to her.”
Everly’s eyebrows lift.
“I mean, when he proposed flying. They were early in their relationship and knew they were going to marry one day. Anyway, we should get going. Don’t want to be late for church.” I’m not operating on autopilot, but I fall into the rhythm of preparing the plane for takeoff with practiced ease. I make quick work of getting off the ground and soon the house and property shrink and become a miniature scene below.
