Page 65 of Fortunate Miracles
Since the guys are in school, I pull up the lessons I’ll be missing today and work on those while sipping my hot tea. A few hours later, someone enters the lounge with a hello.
Looking up, I see a woman with several large medical bags with her. “Hi. You must be Caroline,” I smile.
“And you must be Summer. Nice to meet you. Do you know which plane we’re using? I’d like to have a look around.”
“Oh, of course. Follow me.” I quickly pack my stuff and lead her over to the plane. Zander and Tom are standing by the wing, talking. “Zander, this is Caroline,” I call.
She shakes hands with both men before climbing the stairs with her bags. “All set, darling?”
“Yeah, I can’t wait,” I smile. Nervous energy is flowing freely through my body. Tom says goodbye as I followZander inside. He stores our bags in the closet behind the cockpit before we check on Caroline.
“How does everything look?” Zander asks.
“Great. This is quite a plane,” she replies. “Once you turn everything on, I’ll need about 10 minutes to test everything, and then we can take off.”
“Sounds good,” Zander says before turning to me. “Darling, do you want to be my copilot or sit in the back?”
“If Caroline is okay, I’d love to be up front,” I reply.
She waves me off. “Go up front. I’m fine on my own. One of those big chairs has my name on it,” she smiles.
“Follow me then, darling. It’s almost time for our flight.”
Zander gets me settled in my seat with headphones as he does his final preflight check. Once ready, he slowly drives us out of the hangar and onto the runway. Things are so different up here with the gigantic windows in front of us. It’s easy to forget there’s an entire plane behind us.
There’s an intercom system to the back room that Zander uses to communicate with Caroline. She completes her checks and lets him know everything is ready. Zander gives her a few minutes to take her seat before he communicates with flight control.
As Zander picks up speed, I’m in awe. With a growing roar, we fly down the runway and quickly lift off the ground. The runway is unusually short, but I suppose smaller planes can manage without a lengthy stretch. Zander circles and then turns north towards Virginia, the quiet growing as we gain altitude. He’s cool as a cucumber in the pilot's seat, and there’s a small, serene smile on his face. He truly loves being in the air.
Once we’re level, he flips off the seatbelt sign and relaxes back into his seat. “What do you think, Summer?”
“Amazing,” I reply. “Do you know you have a unique look when you’re taking off?”
“What do you mean?”
“I think you were born to soar among the clouds. You look genuinely content.”
He laughs at the comment. “Troy always said I looked like a lovesick puppy whenever we disembarked after a flight. That if I could marry a helicopter, I would. I like your description much better.”
I chuckle and look around. We’re not as high as big commercial flights go. “So how long a flight is this?”
“Roughly three and a half hours. Why don’t you grab us a snack? I’d love a coffee, darling, and Tom’s wife, Valerie, made fresh homemade scones.”
“Sure,” I smile. Getting up, I hang my headphones and exit the cockpit. Caroline is stretched out on one of the big chairs watching tv. “Hi. I’m getting snacks. Would you like anything?”
“That would be great,” she says, getting up.
I find the mugs and trays as Caroline pulls out a tabletop. “Oh.”
“There's always one hidden somewhere on these smaller planes,” she tells me.
I set two trays on the table and then dig around until I find the scones. Placing three on our tray, I offer the container to Caroline. “These are homemade,” I say.
She grabs one for her tray, and then I lock it back in place. Pouring coffee for Zander, I add cream and sugar and grab a can of soda for myself. “Help yourself to whatever else you want,” I smile, picking up my tray.
“Thank you, Summer,” she replies.
I walk back to the cockpit, balancing the tray to open the door, handing it to Zander so I can retake my seat. Once I’m situated, I grab a scone and butter. Zander has a small foldaway tray open over his lap. “There’re all kinds of hidden things around,” I say, pointing to his tray.
