Child of Mine (22 page)

Next, after following the checklist to the letter, Jack yelled out the window, “Clear!” and started the engine. It sputtered into life.

He turned on the avionics master switch and spoke into the mic, and Kelly smiled. “Yup. I can hear you.”

Scanning the gauges and using his own controls, he taxied the plane to the edge of runway 28, prepared to head into the wind, as indicated by the wind sock and automated surface observation system, or ASOS.

After completing the run-up procedure, Jack looked both ways, searching the sky for signs of an incoming plane. Seeing nothing, he announced his impending departure over the radio, listening for sounds of life and hearing nothing but radio silence. He pulled out to the runway, straightening up the plane, still searching the skies for incoming.

He caught her eyes. “Ready?”

She nodded, giving him a brave smile mixed with a glint of
What have I
done?
He slowly pushed the throttle to the metal, and the plane leaped forward, rumbling down the runway. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Kelly gripping her controls with both hands, her face pale.

“We're fine,” he said. “All routine. All according to plan. The air is perfect for a summer evening flight, unusually smooth and steady.”

“Just tell me when,” she said, practically gasping.

“Not yet,” he said, hoping that once they achieved flight and left the bumpy runway, her fear would diminish.

Barreling down the runway, they reached fifty-five knots, and Jack directed her to begin pulling back on her controls. She did so, and just like that, they were slipping into the skies.

“We're climbing, Kelly.”

She glanced out the window. “Oh my. It's . . . beautiful.”

Keeping an eye on the airspeed, Jack helped her position the nose on the horizon. Slowly they climbed to one thousand feet above ground, an accomplishment that seemed to marvel her.

She turned to him. “This is amazing.”

He tried to put himself in her shoes, recalling his own first flight and the feeling of floating above a matchbox world of tiny houses and cars, all sparkling in the sun. Flying in a small plane held a magic all its own.

Once they were level, Jack summarized the basic details of controlling flight: the ailerons, the elevators, and the rudder. “But don't worry about the rudder,” he told her. “I'll handle that for now.”

“You won't let me . . . uh . . . do anything wrong, will you?”

Jack shook his head. “Just wait till we get a bit higher before you begin the aerobatics.”

“Not funny.”

Instructing her on the finer points of plane management, he said, “Slowly, and without moving the controls forward or back, turn to the left.”

She turned and seemed to marvel at the reaction. “We're going left!”

“How 'bout that.”

They buzzed around the landscape for nearly twenty minutes, turning every which way, and then he took her for a quick buzz over his neighborhood. It barely took a minute, and before long he pointed over the left side. “There we are. It's the one at the end of the block, by the trees.”

Looking intently out the window, she finally nodded. “I see it!”

Heading back to the airport, he pointed out other landmarks and asked, “Wanna land it?”

“Huh?”

“We're going to join the pattern,” he said, “just like I explained. Setting ourselves up for final approach.”

Once they were in position, he pulled out the throttle a little, pushed the controls forward, and pointed to the altimeter, then the airspeed. “We're sinking and slowing down a bit, but we can't let the airspeed get below sixty knots.”

As they descended, he told her to aim for the runway, and he led her step by step, at one point asking her to push the throttle in. “We're descending a little too fast.”

“Should I pull back?”

“No,” he replied. “That'll drop our airspeed.”

Seconds later he pointed to the VSI—vertical speed indicator. “Good. Our descent has stabilized.”

“There's so much to keep track of.”

“It gets easier.”

The edge of the runway grew closer and closer. He could sense her tense up. Pointing to the runway lights, he encouraged her. “We're right on track.”

Moments later, he pulled the throttle out, essentially cutting power. “We don't need this anymore.”

“We don't need
power
?”

“We have altitude. Gravity power. Actually, if we're properly positioned on the base to begin with, we don't need the throttle at all, but the wind died down unexpectedly, leaving us a bit short.”

“How did you know?”

He shrugged. “Experience, and—” he pointed to the wind sock in the distance—“the wind sock went nearly dead moments after we began our descent.”

For the next few minutes they floated toward the runway, Kelly gripping the controls while Jack maintained a light touch on his own controls, just in case. When it appeared they were a few feet from the ground, he said, “Pull back slightly, a little bit, and keep doing it, a tiny bit at a time.”

She did so. Then he said, “A little more, but gently.”

An annoying high-pitched whistle reverberated through the tiny cockpit.

“Don't worry. That's the stall signal,” he said. “This close to landing, that's a good sign.”

When it seemed as if they were mere
inches
from the ground, he said, “Hold it back, don't let it down; hold steady, don't let it land—”

“Don't let it land?”

“Not yet. Pull back a little more.”

She pulled back, and suddenly they felt a soft brush beneath them. A big smile broke on her face.

“Keep holding it back,” he said, and she did, her arms shaking with the effort, until finally the front wheel slipped downward, gently touching the ground.

“
Now
you can relax.”

She sighed loudly.

“That was nearly perfect,” he said. “Good job.”

She seemed amazed. “I actually
landed
the plane!”

“You did,” Jack said, grinning. He gave the throttle some juice and taxied the plane back to the hangar. Once there, he went through the sequence of shutting down the power. Kelly took off her headset, her hair now a bit flat, and tried to finger brush it back to life.

“Did you like the flight?”

She nodded, frowning, as if startled by her own reaction. “More than I thought I would. I feel like . . . a super hero or something.”

Jack helped her out of the plane, holding tightly to her hand as she placed her foot on the step and then jumped down. Together, they walked back to the office quietly. She seemed to be processing what she'd just done.

“How much do I owe you?” she asked—a question he'd purposely avoided. Normally, he charged seventy bucks for an introductory flight.

“It's on me,” he said, and she protested, though mildly, and stood there for a moment, hesitating, as if unsure of what to do or say next. He felt inexplicably drawn to her, and it wasn't just that she was attractive, or intelligent, or charming in that cute aw-shucks manner of hers. There was something else about her, something hidden beneath the surface.

Whatever secrets Kelly seemed to be harboring, he found her intriguing. And since she'd obviously come a long way simply to associate with him, for whatever reason, perhaps she might be willing to extend the afternoon.

“Say, I need to close up here,” he began. “But . . . would you like to get some coffee? There's a place not far from here.”

She met his eyes confidently. “I'd like that.”

Kelly waited in one of his flimsy chairs while Jack sorted through
some items on his desk and noticed his notebook, the one that contained his disjointed thoughts.

He sighed, thinking of its contents, and tried to justify his imminent date with Kelly.
It's
just coffee,
he told himself. He placed the notebook in his drawer and shoved it closed.

I
t was four-thirty, nearly suppertime, late in the day for a coffee date, but Kelly welcomed this chance to come clean.
Finally
.

Waiting for Jack, she perused one of his aviation magazines, mentally preparing herself for the prospect of having an honest conversation with the man whose daughter might be her own.

When he was finished, Jack suggested she follow him in her car. “It's just down the street on the right,” he said. “You can't miss it.”

Oh sure,
she thought, sliding into her Corolla. She'd missed
a lot
of can't-miss things in her life!

As she followed him, she wondered if his invite had anything to do with his suspicious nature, or if he simply found her interesting. Either way, it didn't matter.
It's time for the truth.

Once there, Jack waited for her by the door. Carrying her purse, Kelly strolled up, acting casual, hoping her tension didn't show.

She settled in at a booth toward the back while Jack placed their orders.

She took a deep breath and studied the ambience of the place, letting it cool her nerves. The floor was a dark stained concrete, with wooden beams crisscrossing the ceiling and landscape prints
on the wall. Tan leather couches and overstuffed chairs surrounded a stone fireplace. And the café was filled with folks—reading alone, talking in groups, typing away on their phones or computers. It felt welcoming, relaxing, and homey.

Sitting across from each other—her first date in a decade—they made pleasant small talk for a few minutes until she decided it was time. She twirled her mug in her fingers and said, “I have a confession to make. . . .”

Jack seemed amused and beat her to the punch. “I know what you're going to say. We have more in common than I first thought.”

Her heart nearly stopped. He'd probably Googled her, although that search wouldn't have yielded immediate results. As fate would have it, there was more than one Kelly Maines in Akron. Kelly Maines was also the name of a beloved, although sometimes controversial Democratic state senator, part of the wealthy Maines family, who'd succeeded her father, Marshall Maines, who'd succeeded his own father, Freddie Maines.

Yes, plug Kelly Maines into Google and you wouldn't find anything about
her
until page ten or eleven. And yet, it wasn't impossible for the persistent seeker, so perhaps Jack had found her after all. If so, it would make her job easier.

Seeing her hesitation, Jack continued, “I'm pretty sure San is behind our meeting.”

San?
She nodded, if only to buy herself time.

“She's been trying to set me up for years.”

She swallowed. A blind date?
Oh no!
Kelly's mind raced through possible responses, finally settling on
Just tell him the truth. . . .

———

“I'm really glad you came back,” Jack said suddenly, hoping Kelly wouldn't think he was too forward. “I thought you might not.”

She seemed startled by his compliment. He found her nervousness rather endearing, especially charmed by the anxious way she seemed to be studying him. And he wasn't surprised that she didn't deny the San connection.

“Speaking of sisters, do you have any siblings?” he asked.

An eternity passed before Kelly finally replied. “No. I'm an only . . .” And once again she gave him the longest stare, that calculating expression of hers, until she finally seemed to relax. She explained that her mother lived in Cleveland, having moved there after her father passed away. “I was close to my dad. My mom's rather close-vested. She lives for her church groups, society clubs, and music events.”

He listened intently, enamored with her tentative manner. She had a rosy tan complexion, blue eyes, and her dark hair was styled casually.

Overall, she reminded him of what Nattie might look like when she grew up. But her anxiety seemed to be increasing again.
It must be me,
he thought.
I make her nervous.

“We had an older brother,” Jack said. “He died five years ago.”

“I'm sorry,” Kelly said.

“Car accident,” Jack replied. “San and I weren't close growing up; she was the annoying baby sister, and it was only after I acquired Nattie that we actually became friendly.”

He took a breath, hesitating, wondering if he'd just overshared.

But Kelly only smiled. “How
did
you acquire Nattie?”

She didn't have to ask twice. He told her the whole story, beginning to end.

“At first, I did it for my brother,” he finished. “And for Nattie. To not only keep her safe, but
feeling
safe. I wanted Nattie to have the kind of childhood I never had, free of stress and full of unconditional love.”

Kelly's eyes dimmed. “You had a bad childhood?”

Jack shrugged. “Let's just say my mother should never have had kids.”

“Oh,” Kelly said. “I know the type.”

Jack leaned back, studying this fascinating woman, who seemed so secretive.
Why did you come all the way to
Wooster just to take an introductory flight?
“Did you know your brown hair gets
slightly reddish when the sun shines on it? Nattie's does the same thing.”

Kelly was holding her mug, staring at the creamy golden-brown tea. She smiled politely as her eyes slowly rose to meet his, and he could almost see the wheels turning behind her worried expression.

“Jack . . .” she began, her face suddenly anxious again. “You really love her, don't you?”

He nodded. “Nattie's my life. I look into her future and sometimes it frightens me. I see her turning ten, like . . .
tomorrow.
And then eleven . . . and then twelve. And it's like . . . I've missed it. And where has the time gone? It feels as if I've already lost her.”

“Are you really afraid of losing her?”

Jack chuckled uneasily. “Well, I know I'll lose her to adolescence, for a while at least. I'm prepared for that, but sometimes I feel like she doesn't really belong to me. She was adopted by my brother, and before that . . . someone else gave birth to her. I just happened to be standing in the right place at the wrong time. I'm more worried about not doing the right thing, being the best father, keeping her from real harm.” He sighed, realizing he'd been rambling on.

“Do you take her to church?” she asked.

“Yes, I do.” He told her his story, coming back to faith after his brother died, determined to teach Nattie those same beliefs.

“I was raised a Christian, too,” she admitted, and he felt enormously relieved. It opened an easy segue into a discussion of their mutual beliefs, and they began by talking about their respective churches, and before long, they were sharing their favorite Scriptures. Kelly's favorites all had to do with faith and answered prayer.

Jack told her George Mueller's empty-table story, and she nodded.

“I've been a Mueller fan for years and love that one.”

Thrilled that she shared his faith, Jack glanced at his watch, stunned by the passage of time.

“I should let you go,” she said.

Jack tried to hide his disappointment but agreed. He placed
their tray in a rack by the garbage can while Kelly waited at the door. Exiting the shop, they stood in the afternoon light. Her blue eyes were softer now, but she still seemed troubled, and he almost asked,
“Is everything okay?”

Instead, Kelly looped her purse over her shoulder. “Well . . . thanks for the tea.”

Suddenly, Jack forged ahead. “I'd like to see you again, Kelly.”

She seemed to hesitate. He was prepared for the worst:
“I really can't,”
or
“I'm too busy,”
or
“I'm not feeling
very romantic,”
or even
“You seem nice, but I'm
not looking for a relationship right now”—
all the things people say to keep a potential suitor at bay. He could hardly blame her; he'd probably come on too strong.

She surprised him. “You have my number.”

“Of course,” he said, thinking of the paper work she'd signed.

“Good night,” Kelly said, meeting his eyes. “I hope we do see each other again.”

He watched her walk to her car, an older model Toyota, the kind rarely seen on the road anymore because most of them had been relegated to junkyards.
She's driving back to
Akron in that?

Kelly tossed her bag in the passenger seat, slipped in, and backed out of the parking lot. After a moment's pause, the car hustled down the street, brake lights flickering.

———

Kelly drove home in a fog with the window down, the sun setting behind her, and the image of Jack across the table from her, asking question after question. And that deer-in-the-headlights feeling in her brain.
What was
I thinking?

She'd lied by commission and omission. Not only that, she'd had her chance, the
perfect
chance, and she'd let it slip through her fingers.

Jack hadn't been completely forthright, either. He
was
afraid of losing Nattie. While caring for Nattie had simply fallen into his lap, he'd been given an awesome responsibility, and he thrived on it. And he was terrified she'd suddenly disappear from his life.

So what would happen if Nattie was Kelly's? It would destroy him. She could picture the look of horror as his worst fears came to life.

She felt sick to her stomach. Jack was decent, kind, and honest. He didn't deserve this.
“I'd like to see you again
,”
he'd said, and the sincerity in his eyes had made her shudder. And what had she said in return?
“I hope we do.”

She groaned. It could have been so easy. And just exactly
why
hadn't she come clean? That was the million-dollar question, wasn't it? Because she was rattled by how he looked at her, startled by her own emotions, haunted by that little voice that said,
what if?

What if
what
?

Ridiculous.

So where did she go from here? She had only a few options. She could call him and confess everything. Or she could show up at his office again, tell him the truth. Or she could wait until he called. Assuming he
would
call. He might not—not if he talked to his sister, this San, who was sure to declare her ignorance of any such Kelly Maines from Akron.

But if Jack
did
call, hopefully it would be a date that involved Nattie, because if she still couldn't come clean, then she needed to break her promise to Chet. She didn't have to swab Nattie's cheek, although that would be preferable. She could also swipe some hair, grab a glass that Nattie had used, or scavenge the bathroom for fingernail clippings or a used toothbrush. Stealing the toothbrush wasn't the optimum approach, but it could work.

She imagined the other option, the possibility of a long, drawn-out confession. She could show him the newspaper article from nine years ago, explain, and apologize.
“I
really liked you and I got caught up. I
should have said this earlier, but all I want is
a little DNA.”

He just might say,
“Why didn'
t you say so? Sure, I hand out
Nattie's
genetic code all the time. No big deal!”

She scoffed. Yes, Jack might have been reasonable before, but it was highly unlikely he'd be reasonable now. The ship of
cooperation had long since sailed. Jack would be furious with what he'd perceive as her deception.

No. She
couldn
't
come clean, at least not before she knew the truth. And to get the truth, she had to steal Nattie's DNA.

She shuddered at the unintended consequences of losing her nerve.

Kelly heard a series of tones and recognized Melody's signature calling card. She pulled onto the shoulder and read the text:
Hey girlfriend, how'd it
go?

Kelly texted back:
I blew it
.
I couldn'
t go through with it.

Her phone rang immediately.

“Tell me what happened,” Melody said, and Kelly was reminded again of how much she needed her dear friend. She described the coffee date, and Melody whistled.

“What?” Kelly asked.

“You said he was staring at you like he knew you.”

“I've been in the local papers and on TV, you know. He just can't place me yet.”

“Maybe,” Melody replied. “Or maybe not. This might be really good news, Kel.”

“How do you figure?”

Melody paused and lowered her voice. “Maybe he sees Natalie in you, Kel.”