I shake my head and lean forward to argue. “That definitely wasn’t love.”
She pauses in unfolding her napkin. Uncertainty flickers like lightning in her stormy eyes. “Then tell me, what is love?”
I’m the last person she should ask. The woman I’d thought I loved apparently loved someone else more.
I lift a hand as if I can pull an answer out of the sky. And maybe I can. Vincent and I were in an airplane when he defined the concept for me.
What did he say again? I remember his words convicted me. Maybe they can do the opposite for Angel. Maybe they can set her free. “Love means you’d rather lose someone than harm them.”
Angel plants an elbow on the table and rests her cheek in her palm to study me. “I’m not sure what you’re saying. Matt left me. I didn’t really have a choice.”
She’d made a healthy choice without realizing it. Maybe even regretted it. “I think with Matt it was about keeping boundaries. When his dad threw a chair at you, the restaurant considered it harmful behavior and called the police. You gave a statement about what happened to prevent any more harm from being done. That was the loving thing to do. Would you still have done that if you’d known Matt would never talk to you again?”
She blinks. Looks away. “I’ve often wished I could have taken it back. Then I’d still have a husband.” Her voice is soft and hard to hear above the din around us. But her words have impact.
I knew she’d feel this way, because my dad felt this way about my mom.Ieven felt this way about my mom. Like maybe she would have stayed if we’d sold Dad’s family orchard and moved to the city so she wouldn’t have had to help with physical labor in order to make a profit. Or if Dad had bought her that sports car she’d wanted, even though it wouldn’t be able to drive through snow in the harsh mountain winters. Or if I hadn’t asked for money for flying lessons.
Then we’d possibly still have those relationships. Though they wouldn’t be healthy. They’d be harmful.
Thankfully, I learned this well before I caught Joey cheating on me. Otherwise I might have let her get away with it just to keep her in my life. I wouldn’t be single, but I’d still be unloved.
“You’re not alone, Angel.” I don’t know her well enough to tell her my story, so I don’t make my understanding about me. “People do it all the time. That’s exactly what Matt is doing with his father. He’s afraid of losing his dad—or maybe just his dad’s money—so he’s enabling him.”
She picks up her fork and scoots food around her plate. “It hurts to let go.”
“I know.” I nod and dig into my own tangy dish. Eating out of a pineapple bowl makes having hard conversations a little easier. Kind of like when Dad would take me for ice cream after I got shots at the doctor. Vaccinations and difficult conversations may hurt, but they don’t harm. “I’ve been thinking about pain a lot lately. It’s not pleasant but is a pretty important part of life.”
Angel’s cheeks soften into a smile. “Is that what you do up in the flight deck while we’re running around serving pretzels to salty passengers? You’re having deep thoughts about pain?”
I picture Vincent in his aviator’s cap, offering wisdom before I’m even aware I need it. “Flying is pretty much my therapy.”
She chuckles. “Meanwhile, we flight attendants need therapy to recover from our flights.”
I point my fork at her. “At least you’re not stuck in the same seat for hours. You get your steps in.”
She wrinkles her nose before scooping up a bite, and I wonder if I’m going to hear her burp before the night is over. I kind of hope so. Just so I cannotthrow a chair at her.
I won’t be taking her on any more dates, but we can be friends. In fact ...
“If you ever want to meet the therapist I fly with, we go to church together on Sundays. You’re welcome to join us.”
“Thank you. I might.” She arches an eyebrow. “Now that I’ve told my sad story, do you want to talk about your ex-girlfriend or your crush on Claire?”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Claire
Thereason birds canflyandwecan’t issimply that they have perfect faith, fortohave faith istohave wings.
—JAMESM. BARRIE
We didn’t get called out yet, so we’re free to go to church.” Angel must be feeling penitent about her recent indiscretion.
I grew up attending church in a neighborhood school gymnasium, but when the school was torn down, my family never looked for another place of worship. I’d feel funny about simply showing up to a building full of strangers now and acting like I fit in.
I pull up the Premier Air website one more time to see where I am on the standby list. Wouldn’t I be closer to heaven if I were up in the clouds? Miraculously, there are three flight attendants more junior to me who will get called out before I do, so God’s answer to that question must be an amusedNice try.
“I don’t have any dresses to wear,” I argue.
