The plane slowly taxies down the tarmac, gradually picking up speed. And for an instant, I have a glimmer of what Josh means. I’ve done the same job for more than twenty years. Had the same life for more than twenty years. I love it, of course. And I’m happy. But if I don’t allow myself to take off, how will I ever get anywhere new? And maybe that’s how you know the real thing. If you’re willing to leave the ground. Let go. Fly.
“As I was trying to tell you, before our captain so rudely interrupted,” Josh says. “I think I know your problem, Miss McNally. I think it’s time for you to stop flying solo.”
“Well, yes, it is better with you here,” I say, and this time my smile is genuine. I curl both my arms around his, getting as close to him as I can despite the padded armrest between us for takeoff. “And you know, maybe I should think about-”
Josh reaches into the pouch on the seat back in front of him. And pulls out a little blue box.
A small, square, robin’s-egg-blue box tied with a white satin ribbon.
“No more flying solo,” he says again. And he hands me the package.
The roar of the engines fills the cabin, the gravity and velocity and speed pressing my head into the back of my seat. I feel the massive airplane, with me and Josh strapped inside, leave the ground and soar into the gray November sky, heading for a destination I still don’t know.
What do I know? I know what’s in this little box. And I know what I’ll say after I open it.
And where Josh and I will go after that? Well, we’ll have to take off first. And find out the rest when we arrive.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
HANK PHILLIPPI RYAN is the investigative reporter for Boston’s NBC affiliate. She has won thirty-two Emmys and ten Edward R. Murrow Awards for her groundbreaking journalism. The bestselling author of four mystery novels as well as The Other Woman and The Wrong Girl, Ryan has won the Agatha, Anthony, Macavity, and Mary Higgins Clark awards. She is on the board of Mystery Writers of America and is past president of Sisters in Crime.
