Runway Romance (Love in the Air Trilogy) (3 page)

“Kitchen.” Kate turned and stumbled toward the bathroom, her eyes still only half open.

“Down the hall and to your left. Follow your nose. If you drink it now, it’ll keep you awake,” Jenny said.

“I know.” A wicked grin spread across his face as a twinkle planted itself in his eyes.

Jenny made her way to the front door, then made sure it locked when she shut it.

Patricia gave her a look that said if she’d stayed in the house one more minute, she’d have driven away.

Jenny put her luggage in the back seat and positioned herself shotgun. “Did you know Kate had a booty call last night?”

“Yeah. Brad something-or-other. He flies copters over Mt. St. Helens for tourists.” Patricia started the car and pulled onto the roadway.

“Where’d she meet him?”

“I think she said Jettison, that club on First and Madrona in Seattle.”

“I like that club, especially the music and all the airplanes hanging down from the ceiling.”

“I think Kate likes the pilots and the booze.”

“That’s our Kate. Brad was getting coffee when I left.”

“Sounds like it’s going to be a busy night.”

“I’m glad someone is having a busy night. I haven’t been busy for a while.”

“I was busy a month ago.”

“Martin?”

“Yeah.”

“How long have you been seeing him?”

“Almost five months.”

“Getting serious?”

“I don’t think so. I’m beginning to wonder if any men ever want to get married. Everyone I date seems to only be in it for fun. I’m tired of having fun. I mean I want to have fun, but I want to find someone to share the rest of my life with.”

“You want a commitment.”

“Exactly. Why is it so hard for men to commit?”

“The thought of only having sex with one woman for the rest of their life.”

“That’s too simplistic. I think they want someone to take care of them like their mother did.”

“But they also want a woman to look good in public.”

“Let’s face it… they want it all.”

“So do we.”

“That’s why no one is getting anything.”

“Kate’s getting sex.”

“But that’s not what she really wants.”

“It’s part of what she wants.”

“A big part, but she also wants forever.”

Jenny sighed. “We all want forever.”

“But we get Mr. Right Now.”

“Maybe that’s because we accept Mr. Right Now while we’re waiting for Mr. Forever.”

“You think we should expect more?”

“Maybe.”

“What if we never meet Mr. Forever and we lose Mr. Right Now, too?”

“Then we’re screwed.”

“Actually, then we have no chance of getting screwed.”

Jenny chuckled. “And that is my life right now.”

“If you just want to get laid, I know several guys who would jump at the chance.”

“If that’s all I wanted, I know some men, too. I want more. I deserve more. We all do.”

“Our jobs don’t help. Remember when I was dating Jake?”

“The guy with the goatee?”

“No, that was Marcus. Jake Richbough was the guy with the dragon tattoo on his thigh.”

“Oh, I remember him. He was cute. Why’d you guys break up?”

“Too needy. I had to call him before a flight, after a flight and sometimes in mid-air. I don’t know what he thought I’d be doing in the middle of a flight.”

“Mile High Club?”

“Maybe. Almost every flight some guy makes some crass remark about either becoming a member or that he is a member. Like I’m going to risk losing my job for five minutes of ‘Oh, oh, oh. Thanks, babe.’”

“Then he goes and brags to his friends that he’s banged another stewardess.”

“I hate that word. When will people ever realize that we’re flight attendants. The name changed years ago. Catch up, people!”

“So what about Jake?”

“Oh yeah. So there was his need to hear my voice all the time, but he never believed me when I said I had a flight. He’d check the Ballinger Air website and sometimes he was even on my doorstep waiting for me when I came home. He’d rant and rave that I was late. I’d say, ‘Late for what? I didn’t even know you were going to be here.’ It was all kinds of ick and ew. But the sex was pretty amazing.”

“There’s a lot to be said for sex.”

“There certainly is.”

Chapter Four

“Who are you working with?” Jenny asked Patricia.

“Nicole Saunders, Marsha Tinsdale and Rocky Puffer.”

“Luck! I love Rocky.”

“Me, too. Does he pass you butterscotch or cinnamon candies?”

“Butterscotch.”

“He really likes you. He only gives butterscotch to the FAs he likes.”

“How do you know?”

“’Cuz he gives ‘em to me and says I’m his favorite.”

“Wait a minute, that’s what he tells me.”

“That rat! He probably tells all the women he works with that they’re his favorite.”

“None are his favorite, if you know what I mean.”

“I wondered. He’s so sensitive and perceptive. He always seems to know when someone needs something, even before they know. Is he dating anyone?”

“Some guy at Rodale Flight, I think.” Jenny squinted her eyes and chewed on her bottom lip to jar her memory. “Three years.”

“That’s longer than any of my relationships.”

“Mine, too.”

“Do you have a ride home?”

“Nope. I’ll either bum one from Randee Griffiths or Geri Bonds. They don’t live far from us.”

“If you had a car you wouldn’t have to worry about getting a ride to and from work.”

“Who’s worried? You’re more concerned than I am.”

“I’m just sayin’ that if you had a car, you wouldn’t have to think about transportation at all. Wouldn’t that be nice?”

“I suppose.”

“Why are you so hesitant?”

Jenny shrugged her shoulders. “Probably the car accident.”

“You never told me about this.”

“I didn’t think it was important.”

“If it’s stopped you from learning to drive, I think it’s important.”

“Oh, I know how to drive. I just don’t.”

“What happened?”

“My brother, Preston, was driving. He’d been pestering Mom and Dad since he was thirteen to drive the car. Even offering to back it out of the garage or park it in the driveway.

He must have washed that thing every Saturday for years, just hoping they’d let him drive early.”

“Did they?”

“Nope. Mom and Dad were sticklers for the rules. Now it’s just Mom, but she still sticks to her guns.”

“So, it was your dad that got injured.”

“Yeah. Preston was doing all the right things: going the speed limit, watching the gauges, checking his mirrors often. This car just comes barreling through a red light and slams right into the car.”

Patricia put her hand on Jenny’s arm. “Were you in the car?”

“Back seat. Not a scratch on me. Pres had broken bones and lots of bruises. Dad went through the glass. He’d taken off his seat belt while we were sitting at the light so he could remove his coat.”

“It wasn’t your brother’s fault. There was nothing he could have done.”

“I know.” Jenny ran her finger across the heart locket she wore around her neck.

“You’ve never driven since?”

“I’ve driven. I’m not scared of driving. I’m scared of sitting still.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“I know. I’m still sorry.”

They continued traveling toward the airport. Several minutes later, Patricia said, “I wish you’d told me earlier. I’ve been teasing you for a while about getting a car. I had no idea all this happened.”

“I didn’t want to bring it up. It’s easier to let you think I’m some wishy-washy person who doesn’t mind bumming rides off people. I don’t need the pity.”

“It’s not pity, it’s compassion and empathy.”

“Whatever it is, I don’t need it.”

“What happens when you’re sitting in a car at an intersection?”

“Do we really have to talk about this?”

“I think it’s important.”

Jenny sighed. “My hands sweat. I breathe heavier. I look around a lot. I remember that day. I hear the sound of metal crashing against metal. I feel the impact all over again.”

“I just thought you were fidgety.”

“I never told you anything different.”

“Because it was easier?”

“Yeah. I thought so, anyway. Now I’m not so sure.”

Patricia veered off one highway and onto another as she followed the airport signs. “You’re going to be really early.”

“I don’t mind.”

“Have you always loved airports?”

“Long as I can remember. There’s something magical about these metal birds you can sit in and graze the edge of clouds.”

“Touching God’s carpet.”

“Exactly.”

“What first attracted you to being a flight attendant?”

“The romance of it. Flying through a starlit sky to some exotic destination. I never cared about getting to the location, I wanted to stay in the airplane and explore.

I’d have my very own window to look out of and I’d adjust the little light just so. I always unfolded the barf bag, just in case, and then I’d stare out the window and at the edges of the window where it’s welded and screwed together.

I’d wonder what would happen if the plane suddenly starting falling apart. Would I be sucked out the side by a giant cloud that had inhaled deeply and vacuumed me right up?”

“I always wanted to sit at the emergency exit, so I’d be the first one off the plane in case something happened.”

“Now we know we’d be the first to go.”

“Who knew that was the death seat? They sure don’t tell you that when they sit you there.”