“Exactly. I’d thought it meant a different first officer beat you to picking up this trip, but no. You told me it was because you’d just noticed the new flight attendant. For some reason, you failed to mention you’d already met her.”
I rub my jaw, willing myself not to grunt again or even think anything incriminating. “I met her yesterday. No big deal.”
“Okay.”
He respectfully drops the subject, and I’m disappointed. I would have enjoyed talking about Claire more as long as we weren’t talking about Claireand me.
“Would it have been a big deal if she weren’t dating anyone?”
I throw my head back and guffaw. “You married people want everyone to get married like you, huh?”
“Last I knew, you wanted to get married too.”
True. But I press my lips together because it’s not a subject I talk about anymore.
He lasers me with his gaze. “This is the first flight we’ve worked since the breakup where you didn’t start the day by whining over your ex. So I’m just curious what changed.”
Man, is he right? He knows me too well. I might as well confess to him what I haven’t even been willing to confess to myself. “All right. I find Claire attractive, and though she has a boyfriend, it gives me hope for meeting someone new. Or wanting a relationship at all.”
“Hey-hey. Was that so hard?” Vincent slaps me on the shoulder, as if we have something to celebrate. As if this is progress.
Maybe it is, even if it feels backward. My relationship with Joey came to a dead end, and rather than blame the road, I’m finally turning around to find another route. “Sorry I’ve been such a whiner.”
He shakes it off. “Dating the wrong person will make you appreciate the right person more when she comes along.”
“If.” The word automatically slips out, reminding me how cynical I’ve become.
“There you go whining again.”
I chuckle. My life is good. I shouldn’t complain. I’ve got a sunset steak dinner with friends to look forward to. “You’ll be the one whining when I beat you at landing.”
A while back Vincent invented a game with points earned for both accuracy and skill. The airline had sent out a memo prioritizing landing at a certain spot on the runway over smooth landings, which didn’t sit well with him. So he uses his scoring system to teach younger pilots to do both. Now that I’ll soon become a captain myself and won’t fly with him anymore, it has become a competition between us.
“Oh yeah?” he challenges. “The Santa Ana winds are simply the wind beneath my wings.”
Our banter remains fun and easy until halfway to LA, when his coffee consumption kicks in. “This a good time for a restroom break?”
I rub my jaw. The FAA requires two crew members in the flight deck at all times, which means when Vincent goes to the lavatory, the forward flight attendant will come in here. I hadn’t considered the scenario, because Desiree usually works the forward position to be near Vincent. This time Crew Scheduling had already assigned Claire when Vincent had noticed the trip in Open Time, thus Desiree is forced to work aft instead. I’m not opposed to spending more time with the new flight attendant, but being crammed inside a cockpit together is a little more intimate than eating out as a group.
“Yeah, sure.” This is no big deal. I pick up the headset and press the Call button.
“Hey, baby,” Desiree answers with her smooth purr.
I grin, fully aware she is both expecting her husband to be on the otherend of the line and that she won’t be embarrassed at all to hear it’s me. “Hey yourself.”
“Hello?” Claire chimes in, breathless. She’s going to enjoy her break from serving breakfast to watch the clouds float by below.
Despite my earlier hesitance, I’m thrilled to be the one to share her first experience seeing the world from our view. “Can we get a bathroom break?”
“Uh ...” Claire has the training but not the experience.
“We’ll call you when we’re ready,” Desiree answers for her. She’ll have to come up front and block access to the cockpit while Vincent and Claire switch places.
I hang up, and my pulse revs in anticipation. How does one shake off such ridiculous feelings as these? Our procedure is nothing new. I do it all the time. And Claire is nobody to me, really. She’s simply given me hope for my future, as Vincent forced me to admit. A symbol, a sign, nothing more.
Maybe I can explain my excitement as the beginning of something new. The first page of another chapter. The sound of a starter pistol.
The phone chimes, and my heartbeat is off for the races. I pick up the receiver. “Ready?”
