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Below it, painted in vintage-style lettering, was written simply,Betty.
“A very special plane. I learned to fly on her.”
Eve touched a glossy wing.“She looks brand-new.”
“My great-grandfather took delivery of her in April 1958.” He indicated toward the large letters and numbers painted boldly in gold, toward the back of the fuselage:N458LA.
“He started Larssen Aviation with Tim’s dad and this one plane. Came out of the Air Force after World War II and saved for thirteen years to buy her.”
“And named her Betty?”
Adam smiled fondly.“He brought that poster back with him.”
Eve studied the shiny little plane, unable to find a single flaw.“No one would ever guess she’s that old.”
“Vintage Cessna,” he firmly corrected.“182 Skylane floatplane.”
“Where are the floats?”
“They’re in the hangar. We won’t be needing them today. Maybe next time, we can do a water landing. They’re fun.” He tapped the plane’s nose twice.“Ready?”
“Sure.”
He came around to open the door for her.“Tim took care of the outside preflight, so I won’t be long out here. Just going to double-check a few things myself.”
Eve didn’t get in, preferring to watch him do his inspection.
She glanced inside. The interior was as flawless as the exterior. This was a plane that was cherished. On the dash, she recognized the same round instruments Adam had sported on his shirt the other daywhen she’d tossed caution aside, fisted that shirt, and kissed him.
She turned her attention back to Adam, watching him run his palm over the wing’s upper surface, then go down on one knee to inspect the underside. She didn’t know why, but the sight of him on one knee like that, head up, the breeze ruffling his bright hair, made her throat suddenly close and tears sting her eyes. Lithely, he stood and strode to the back to check the tail.
Eve ducked inside. Sitting in the padded cloth-and-vinyl seat, she tipped her chin up and quickly dashed her tears away, blinking, tasting salt.
Whatwasthis? She could no longer recognize herself.
Longing. It was longing, an awful, soul-wrenching want, and she ached with it.
“We’re good to go,” she heard him say. Her door closed, and he ran around the front to open his own. His scent flooded her nostrils as he climbed in, his presence overwhelming. He locked his side. Leaning across her, he reached for the handle by her elbow, his bare arm grazing her breasts.“Just let me lock this, and…” He pushed down on the handle.“What’s wrong?”
Oh no. He’d noticed.
She shook her head.
He searched her face for a few seconds.“Have you flown in a plane this size before?”
She took a deep breath, shoulders sagging.“No.”
Adam had read it as fear of flying. Thank God.
He reached to fasten her seat belt.“Small planes are slow flyers. You can land them just about anywhere. You didn’t hear this from me, but most problems are caused by pilot error.” He gave her a reassuring smile.“You’re in good hands; I promise.”
Adam
It was the perfect day for Betty to showcase what a high-wing aircraft could do. Not fast-moving to require his constant vigilance, no wings to block the spectacular views, just the buzz of the single engine and open sky.
Being up here was his escape, miles up from all the daily stresses that sometimes had Adam wondering what the hell he was doing with his life.
Eve seemed to have overcome her initial nervousness, commenting on the landmarks he pointed out. The sound of her voice and laughter, directly in his ears, and her slight figure close enough to touch, made him happier than he had been in a very long time.