Page 105 of Fly with Me

“He has wanted this for me for my entire life. He worked so hard to support me.” Stella’s tone was almost snappish. “I can’t afford to get complacent. You saw him. We—” Her voice broke. “The neurologists don’t know how long he’s going to be him. You saw him on a good day. He hid his symptoms for a long time. Then he had outbursts, and everything has gotten bad so quickly. He was seventy-five when he was diagnosed. The older you are, the worse it can be. The more at risk for early death, and doctors see really concerning neurological signs that could mean dementia.”

Parkinson’s was one of those devastating diseases that wasn’t technically fatal, but it still robbed its sufferers of their quality of life, some more quickly than others.

“I didn’t mean to—I know it’s important to him. You’re important to him. I meant… I don’t know. I was trying to make you feel better. It seems like he loves you so much. I meant that he’s proud of you. I think he’d be proud of you no matter what. You’re lucky to have that.”

“I know I am. You met him retired. He was finally able to fully be himself now, and this disease is robbing him of his life that he deserved. He was going to travel around the world, but now he doesn’t feel like he can. He spent all that time working in the government having to be careful about who knew he was gay. He did all of that to give me my dreams.”

“He sounds like a great dad.”

“I get to be a gay, Latina pilot. I get to be out. I get to do so many things that he never got to do, and I owe it to him not to waste this chance.”

“No one could ever think you were wasting your chance.” Olive wrapped her arms around Stella’s waist. “I’m sorry for what’s happening to him. And you. Being a caregiver is hard.”

“I have to know that I gave it everything.”

“You are giving it everything.”

Stella checked her watch. “I have to get going.”

“Oh, right. If I feel better this afternoon maybe I can still—”

She shook her head. “Pneumonia can be serious. Please don’t even offer what you’re thinking about offering.”

“I wanted to go with you.” Olive’s posture might have been described as a pout. “I had the perfect dress. What if me not being there ruins everything about the plan.”

“I know you did.” Stella gave a half smile and touched Olive’s nose. “We still have the big Pilots’ Gala. You can wear the perfect dress then. That’s the most important event, anyway. This event was more about me getting to show you off to my friends. I mean, because they’ve heard so much about you.”

Olive felt her chest puff out a little at that. She grinned. “You’re sure?”

“Stay in bed and rest. I’ll see you in a couple weeks.”

Weeks.

“Oh—right.” Had part of her been wanting Stella to offer to come over again tonight? “I hope you have safe flights.”

“Flying is very safe. We’ve been over this.” A hint of the twinkle returned to Stella’s eyes.

“Have we?” Olive smirked back.

“Yes.” She patted the area over Olive’s knee. “Can I get you anything before I leave?”

“No. Thank you again for all you did last night.” Olive rubbed her chest, sleepiness overpowering her mouth’s filter. “I wish you didn’t have to leave.”

“I… me too.” Making Olive jolt, Stella rose from the bed without warning. She stood in the doorway, and her hand curled around the doorjamb while another one of those confusing frowns pulled at her perfect mouth. “Feel better, Olive.”

Then she left.

Olive’s lips tingled. She’d expected a goodbye kiss, which was stupid since she was sick. A hug? Something. After drinking a third of her coffee, she slid it onto the nightstand and flopped back onto her pillow. This was an ill-advised move because it made her headache spike. She rolled over on the pillow Stella had lain on. It smelled like lilacs and vanilla. Olive brought the comforter over her head.

A voice called out from her living room. “Proof of life?”

She’d been having a dream. An incredibly good one. About Stella. Involving teeth and breasts and toys.

But now she was wide awake. The massage last night had only intensified what had been brewing inside Olive since Disney. She’d had Stella in her bed, and she’d been too sick to do anything about it.

Derek cracked the curtains, letting a small stripe of light into the dim room.

“Go away. I’m dead. Light is the enemy.” She pulled the pillow over her head. Even that small amount of light burned her eyes.