“What about you?” I said. “Are you with me ’cause I remind you of Laurence?”
“At first, no. You don’t look anything like him. Maybe your general shape and coloring, but he was smaller. Shorter, too. But now that I know you better? Yes, a little. Your personalities are similar. You’re always so positive. It drives me crazy sometimes, but… you make me smile like he did.”
“I can live with that.”
“I hope so,” she said.
“I know so.” I lingered over a kiss and then looked at the clock. “Okay, it’s almost four thirty. Do you wanna try to go back to sleep, or…?”
She grinned. “Or what?”
“Trade bodily fluids for a couple of hours and then hit the slopes?”
“Yes, please. Bodily fluids.”
Damon and Alexa drove us to the airport in Elkins after lunch, and Carolyn rode along. She clearly hadn’t adjusted to the idea that her daughter wanted to fly. Christy sensed her reluctance and started chatting about how her brothers had learned and what they did in the military. The teens and I left them in the relative warmth of the FBO waiting area and headed out to the flight line.
I didn’t know what to expect from Alexa when we reached the plane. I thought she might be nervous or shy or wouldn’t take it seriously, but she was just as focused and even quicker than Damon. I reminded myself that plenty of women had been pioneers in aviation, starting with the Wright brothers’ sister, Katharine. So, note to self: ditch the preconceptions about women and what they could or couldn’t do.
I let Damon fly copilot first, since he was older and had more experience.
We spent an hour in the air going over the axes of motion, control surfaces, and how to use them for basic flight maneuvers. Alexa watched from the back and absorbed everything.
We returned to the airport so the teens could switch positions. I parked on the ramp and shut down the engine to give Alexa the same experience as her brother. She surprised me when she asked if she could go through the checklist by herself.
“I don’t see why not,” I said. “It’s slightly different, though, since the engine’s hot.”
“What’s different?” she asked.
“You lock the primer instead of pumping it.” I hid my surprise when she mentally went through the list and slotted the new information into place.
“Okay,” she said. “I think I have it.”
I flipped to the Engine Start (Hot) checklist. Then I handed it to her and deliberately folded my hands in my lap. She went through the entire sequence without looking at the card once.
“Showoff,” Damon muttered over the intercom. He knew as well as I did that she hadn’t missed anything.
“That was good,” I told her, “but use the card next time. It’s a good habit to get into.”
“Why? I know it already.”
“If you’re ever in a real emergency, you might miss something in the
confusion. A checklist forces you to slow down, pay attention, and do it right… which might save your life one day.”
She nodded seriously.
“And it makes your instructor happy.”
That earned a shy grin.
I was tempted to let her try her hand at takeoff, but I didn’t want to throw her into the deep end too soon. Besides, it was muscle memory more than the mental kind. I let her announce our intentions on the radio, though, and she repeated my tone and cadence almost exactly. She wasn’t quite as confident when she took the controls once we were in the air, but she learned quickly.
And, like her brother, she was hooked from the start.
We returned to the airport after another hour, and they helped me refuel the plane before we went inside. Carolyn seemed to wilt when she saw her daughter’s expression.
“Oh, Alexandra,” she said, “seriously?”
“Mom, it was amazing! I flew the plane and everything. We…”
Christy slipped her arm through mine and beamed up at me. “If it’s okay with you,” she said quietly, “I asked Carolyn if we could come back in two weeks.”
I counted forward. “First weekend in March? Yeah, that should work. But only if we get our projects done on time. They’re due the following week, and exams start the tenth.”
“I know, but… I want one more weekend alone before the end of the quarter and spring break. Wren wants us to go to Florida with them.”
My eyebrows rose. “Oh? And when were you going to tell me?”
“I said she wants us to go, not that I’d agreed. I told her I’d have to talk to you first. So there!”
“Oh. Okay. Then I’m sorry. I guess I’m just a little suspicious when it comes to Wren.”
“Me too. So don’t worry. I won’t make the same mistake twice, of committing us to anything without talking to you first. Which is why I asked about coming here in two weeks. What should I tell Carolyn?”
“We’ll be here.”
Christy beamed with excitement and waited for a break in Alexa’s conversation with her mother. We thanked them, said goodbye, and told them we’d see them in two weeks. Alexa watched longingly as we headed out to the plane.
“That girl isn’t boy-crazy,” I said to Christy as I helped her onto the wing.
“She’s plane-crazy.”
“I wasn’t boy-crazy at her age either. That happened later, when I met you.”
I grinned and climbed up after her.
“Now I’m sex-crazy.”
I lowered myself into the cockpit. “Didn’t you get enough this morning?”
“You know me.” She sank into the seat and closed the door. “My metabolism and libido. Speaking of which…” She triumphantly pulled a baggie of grapes and cheese from her jacket pocket. “Now, if only someone could satisfy my carnal desires.”
“If only,” I muttered as I reached over her head to secure the door.
“You keep me very satisfied,” she said with a laugh. “Mmm, very, very satisfied.”
“I might not survive, though. You’re like a sexual vampire.”
“I vant to suck your cock.” She grinned and popped a grape into her mouth.
“I’ve created a monster.”
“Mmm, but a cute monster. Will you take me to your lab? Strap me to a table? Do naughty experiments on me?” Her eyes flashed. “Ooh, ooh! I know! Throw me in the dungeon and use me in perverted sex rituals. Over and over, till I succumb to your dark desires.”
“Ha!”
“I was on a roll. So sue me.” She batted her eyes and nibbled a cube of cheese. “Or use me, Dr. Penis-stein.” She collapsed in a fit of giggles.
I shook my head in amusement—with her and at her—and started the engine.
“Oh, I love you,” Christy sighed through the intercom when she recovered enough breath to speak.
“I love you too, but… you make me a little nervous.”
“Why?”
“You like sex as much as I do.”
“Maybe more. I’m an overachiever, you know.”
“Help,” I said plaintively, to no one in particular.
Christy ate her cheese and quietly radiated happiness.
Life continued back in the real world, which was how I’d begun to think of Knoxville. Christy focused on her Kanagawa series with new energy. In a single day she created a clay maquette of thirty-something Delilah’s body with middle-aged Sayuri’s features. I was on schedule with my own project, but I needed to pick up the pace if I wanted to finish early so we could spend one more weekend in Snowshoe.
Trip and Wren were just as busy, although dinner with Christy and me had become a semi-sacred ritual, even if we had to run out for pizza at nine o’clock. Our first order of business was to make plans for spring break. Wren wanted the four of us to spend a week at her family’s condo on the beach in Florida. Her parents rarely used it anymore, she said. Her father was busy with his new mistress, a woman only a few years older than her, while her mother and special friend hardly ever traveled.
Wren tried to act blasé about her parents’ relationship, but it bothered her that they’d grown so far apart and now led mostly separate lives. I thought theirs was a practical arrangement, a lot better than a divorce and court battle over money and business interests, but Christy disagreed.