Pretend Mom (22 page)

No, he wouldn't be fine! He'd crash
just like Audrey, and she'd lose him forever. Losing him to another
woman was one thing, losing him to death was another. Dixie
couldn't stand the thought of losing another loved one in her
life.

Tears ran down her cheeks, and she
didn't know what else Emily said. She finally hung up the phone,
unable to talk any longer. Emily was such a dear to try to reassure
her, but Dixie was terrified that Mike wouldn't make it. She
couldn't sleep. She called the airport to check his flight and see
if there was any way to stop him from coming. Of course, there
wasn't. What did she think she was going to do, stop the
plane?

She stayed on the couch until the wee
hours of the morning, worrying over the flight. It was bad enough
her having to fly all over the country, but now Mike. She couldn't
bear losing him. If she hadn't come to New York, this wouldn't be
happening. It was her fault. There were no survivors. The words
rang in her ears like a gong.

With only a couple hours of sleep, she
showered, dressed, and headed for the airport.

Snow covered the ground, the windshield
of the taxi, everything. How could a plane survive a flight in this
kind of weather?

She arrived a couple of hours early,
walking the long corridors of the airport, trying to calm herself.
She stopped in the coffee shop, and memories filled her thoughts.
Mike's face seemed to appear everywhere she looked.

Her prayers did little to reassure her.
Faith, and trust, yes that's what she needed.

She glanced at the gate signs. Mike's
plane had been delayed. They expected it to arrive in another hour.
Another hour! How could she possibly wait that long?

She sat at the big window, watching the
planes coming in, marveling at how anyone could manipulate such a
craft in this snowstorm. She gripped the armrest of her seat until
her knuckles turned white. Where was he?

She began pacing and finally went up to
the desk. "I'm sorry," she said, "but could you give me any
information on Flight 207."

"Flight 207, just a minute let me
check, for you," the attendant said with a smile.

Dixie strummed her nails against the
counter.

"Yes, the flight has been delayed. It
looks like it might be another hour."

"Another hour, but—" Dixie's heart
plummeted. Perhaps that was a good sign. They were obviously being
very careful about flying in the storm—maybe the delay would save
him. She nodded at the attendant and decided to walk for a while.
She walked the corridors, noting the people coming and going, and
wishing she could relax.

No one else looked startled or afraid.
No one else seemed to be panicked. Still, she might as well have
been in the plane herself. Her body tensed like a bomb about to go
off as she realized suddenly that she was facing her worst
nightmare—a nightmare she had relived over and over since Audrey's
death. Audrey was dead because she wanted to come to see Dixie. Her
sister was dead because Dixie left home and alienated herself from
her family. It was her fault—just as it would be if anything
happened to Mike.

Nearly wearing herself out from a
mixture of worry and aimless walking, Dixie finally took a seat in
front of one of the large windows. An older woman sat comfortably
beside her, staring out into the gray sky. "Are you waiting for
someone on flight 207?" Dixie asked.

The woman smiled warmly. "Yes, my
daughter. And you?"

"Yes, a friend."

"These delays can be a pain but it'll
be here. Those fly boys don't take chances in this kind of
weather," the woman said quite calmly.

"I'm a little nervous. I hate flying,
myself," Dixie admitted, not knowing why she was so open with this
stranger, this woman who calmly sat knitting as she
talked.

"I know what you mean, but it's
actually one of the safest ways to travel."

"Really? Don't you worry about your
daughter flying? I mean, doesn't it bother you. What if she—" Dixie
stopped abruptly. She didn't want to utter the word crashed in
connection with the woman's daughter, and didn't want to think of
it in connection with Mike, either.

The woman smiled knowingly and paused
from her knitting long enough to pat Dixie's hand. "Sure, my
daughter flies in regularly to see me, every six months. It's the
easiest way for her to get here. And this way, we see each other
more often. No, I don't worry. I leave that in God's hands.
Besides, my daughter loves it."

"Have you encountered many delays?"
Dixie asked.

"A few, yes. And worse weather than
this. At least this is just snow, not ice. Just as well that they
were delayed with this storm. I'd rather be safe than sorry." She
smiled warmly at Dixie, who's trepidation was evident. "Now, don't
you worry child," she said, patting Dixie's hand again.

"I guess you're right." Dixie shook off
a chill.

The old woman eyed her a moment, pushed
back a strand of wayward gray hair and smiled again. "You'll see.
Your friend will be here in no time at all." She went back to her
knitting.

The sign flashed the arrival time of
the flight and Dixie felt herself relax a bit. What the woman said
made sense. Air travel was safer than any other form of
transportation. Crashes were few and far between. Mike would make
it.

An hour later the plane finally landed.
She watched it taxi in. Mike came strolling towards her from the
ramp, a big grin on his face, his arms outstretched. Dixie was so
relieved and happy to see him that she threw her arms around him
and kissed him square on the lips. He cut the kiss
short.

"Let's get out of here," he murmured
near her ear.

"See, I told you everything would be
alright," the old woman said as she walked up to them.

"Thank you for being there with me. You
helped more than you know."

After gathering his luggage, they took
a taxi to her apartment. It was a quiet ride full of unasked
questions.

"Why did you insist on coming in this
storm, Mike? Why did you risk it?" She couldn't wait until they
were safe in her apartment.

"It was the fastest way to get here.
I'm getting married and I wanted you to be the first to
know."

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Feeling completely numb from Mike's
surprise announcement, Dixie did her best to hide her shock. When
they arrived at her apartment, she took his coat and Mike settled
on the couch, glancing about as she insisted on fixing him a
sandwich. She had to stay busy and not think about his
announcement. Mike was getting married. Her Mike. She felt as
though her world was coming to an end.

"Where's Mandy?" she managed to say,
sounding almost natural.

"She's staying with Emily for a few
days."

"Is anything wrong, at home? I mean,
surely you didn't just fly here to tell me you're getting married.
Are Mom, Bernie and the boys okay?"

"They're all fine. I've never seen
Emily so happy. Only she misses her daughter."

She waited for him to answer before
letting out a breath.

When he realized her relief, he added,
"No, nothing is wrong, sweetheart. And yes, that's the biggest
reason I'm here. To tell you all about the girl I'm
marrying."

Dixie most definitely didn't want to
know about his new sweetheart. He couldn't possibly know how good
she felt to see him—to smell that wonderful fresh scent that was
all Mike, to touch that hard body, to taste the sweet wine of his
kisses.

She slipped a hot skillet of eggs onto
a plate and placed it on the table. Then she took out the
mayonnaise and bread and brought it to the table too.

"This isn't fancy, but I figured you
needed something now. I'll fix us a nice supper later."

"That would be nice."

"Great, let me change, and I'll be
right out." She smiled—which wasn't easy under the
circumstances.

"Hurry, we don't want these eggs to
cool off."

She threw on a patched pair of jeans
and an old beige silk shirt she loved to wear around the house,
trying desperately not to cry all the while. There'd be plenty of
time for that later, when he was gone.

"It's great seeing you again but what's
really going on, Mike?" she asked nervously as she sat down at the
table and dug into the sandwich in a fury.

He laughed. She squirmed. His long
lashes veiled his thoughts from her. He was full of smiles and
teasing—obviously he was elated at the prospect of his getting
married. Dixie's heart sank a bit more.

"We'll get around to that, later," he
said. "For now, let's eat before it gets cold. You look frozen. And
I want to know why you didn't want me to fly in."

"Well, it's the first big snow and …"
She gestured toward the window in the living room, not able to say
any more. Had he guessed her fears?

"Yes, unlike at home, it's thick enough
to really be beautiful. But why the panic, sweetheart?"

"I'm just not fond of flying, that's
all."

"Because of Audrey?" He watched her
closely.

She bowed her head. "Yes. I can't keep
that day out of my mind when someone I care…I mean … when I hear
about anyone else flying in this weather. Even when I fly I'm
terrified."

"I'm sorry I worried you. And I'm sorry
your lifestyle has forced you to endure the agony." His expression
softened.

Watching her wipe her mouth, his eyes
lingered on her lips, and she squirmed again.

"It's okay. I'm starting to get the
fear under control, I think. I know it's not really rational." She
reflected on the conversation with the woman at the airport. "I had
a long talk with a woman at the airport who was used to waiting for
people to arrive. The conversation was very
enlightening."

"It's okay to be afraid of something,
Dixie, as long as you don't let it take control of you. Audrey died
in a crash, an accident. I know you've lost a lot of people in your
life, sweetheart, but I think you've had all the losing you're
going to for a while."

Hah! Her thoughts screamed. I'm losing
you, Mike! "I know," she said calmly. "I guess it will never be my
favorite mode of transportation."

"You've lost weight," he remarked,
giving her the once over.

"Thanks." She tried to laugh without
much success. "So have you."

"But you're skin and bones."

"Gee, thanks again," she said as she
screwed her face into a half-smile.

"I like your place, very modest, but
cute."

Dixie bit into her sandwich, glancing
at his navy blue western cut suit. He looked good enough to eat.
"Everyone has that surprised look on their face when they see my
place. But the minute I found it, I knew it was the one for me. The
landlady's rough, but very protective of her tenants. I liked that.
It made me feel safe. When I first came here it scared me witless,
but now I'm used to it, and very comfortable."

"It's very—homey."

An uncomfortable silence blanketed the
room for a few moments.

Mike cleared his throat. "So, how's the
recording business?"

Dixie endured the idle conversation
with frustration. When was he going to say what was on his mind?
"Not much recording lately. I've been through some rough times,
especially since I quit working for Ed. I put a lot of miles on
these feet, and I'm doing what I want for the first
time."

"Which is?"

"Writing songs."

"Your mother said you changed
something. Problems?"

Dixie tried to laugh, but it caught in
her throat. "There were, but they're resolved now. And I'm writing
one of my best works now—something I've always wanted to
do."

"So, does this mean you and Ed are
really through?"

"We never really got started. It was
hard getting back into the swing of things after going home. I got
spoiled. Apparently I've been hard to deal with ever since." She
gave a small chuckle. "Anyway, we decided it was time to go our
separate ways."

"Traumatic?"

"Leaving Ed? No, not at all. But
leaving the studio and the security was hard on me. I'd worked
there over three years and really liked it. However, Ed's feelings
made things impossible for me. I had to leave—for his sake as well
as mine. I've never promoted myself before. Never had to pound the
pavement for work, so that part's tough. But, I'm finally doing
what I really want—writing music."

His eyes lit with amusement as they
lazily took her in. "That's great. Writing music's something you
can do no matter where you live."

Their gaze met across the table. The
candlelight flickered in the tawny depths of his eyes as she
searched his face. Everything about him made her want to swoon. She
breathed a sigh. "So, how's Janet?"

She figured she had to ask, otherwise
he might think her rude.

"Eating pineapples, I would imagine,"
Mike informed her.