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“I’m signing off on a few fundraising events.

I was hoping you could organize a Ladies Tea on the island in August.” She fell silent, unwilling to agree that easily.

His voice turned cloying. “I know you’re mad at me, Virgie, and I hate myself for what I asked you to do.

” He paused. She could hear his thoughts churning.

“But I’m struggling here. I miss talking to you before I turn off the light every night, and knowing you’re this mad at me, I can’t even focus on the Senate floor. ”

She missed him, too, and still, she felt her mouth fall open; is that what he thought would win her over? The feeling of being missed? “In other words, if I’m not going to come home to you, you like knowing that I’m busy at work planning a fundraising event.”

“Maybe it’s the wrong answer, but yes?”

“Okay, dear,” she’d managed through gritted teeth, cradling the phone in her neck.

“I’ll organize a Ladies Tea.” These events were most frustrating since Charlie dictated the discussions at them, even if Virgie made the guest list and invites, hired the caterers, and spent half a day prettying herself up for the society ladies.

“Also, you should know that I’m taking flying lessons this week with Wiley at the Katama Airfield. We all are.”

At that, she’d dropped the phone, accidentally hanging up, and when he called back, questioning her sanity, she’d said, “I’m sorry, honey, but I already gave up my column. How could you ask me to give up flying too?”

He emitted a long, deep sigh. She imagined them lying together in bed, facing one another and Charlie caressing her back, whispering in the dark so the girls couldn’t hear. “Virgie, do you remember the day we met? At the library steps? I was dying to talk to you. Have you ever wondered why?”

She rose to face the open window, staring at the moonlight illuminating the harbor. “Why, Charlie? Because I was the only one crazy enough to smile back?”

He laughed with sincerity. “No, it was because you had a curiosity about everything around you, and you had this open expression. I’d seen you before, striding across campus, and I envied the way you moved through the world like you belonged.

Like the world was made for you to live in.

” She liked when he described her like this.

Virgie noodled her finger in the dial, waiting for him to make his point.

“But now, it’s like you don’t want to belong.

It’s beginning to feel as though you want to be contrarian. ”

She cut him off; he could be so shortsighted. “Coming to the Vineyard without you doesn’t make me a contrarian. It’s summer! Now good night, dear. I’ll call you after we fly.”

“If the weather is bad, please don’t go.” Charlie paused. “Can I call you tomorrow night?”

“I don’t know. That column, it meant something to me.” She hovered her finger over the plastic button, ready to hang up.

“I know, I’m sorry, but… I love you, Virgie.”

Now it was her turn to sigh. “I love you too, Charlie. Good night.”

Virgie yanked open the curtains that Saturday, the sun pouring through the windows, and clapped her hands together. “Wake up, girls.”

She’d been up since six, dressed and ready in Bermuda shorts and a flowy blouse, her hair tied up into a French twist, so it wouldn’t blow into her eyes. “I have a surprise for all of you, and it involves the friendly skies.”

It had been nearly impossible to keep the flying lessons a secret, but she mostly had, even as Pamela reported to the Whiting residence last night to prepare her first supper.

She’d rather sloppily slathered chicken legs in barbecue sauce and baked them in the oven, then followed a recipe for potato salad, which turned out to be too salty, but still, it had been nice having another adult around.

While the woman washed the plates and glasses from dinner, Virgie caught up on laundry.

The evening was warm and still without darkness, and James and Betsy played tag alongside the occasional firefly.

Every several minutes, the boy came into the kitchen, the room alight with the glow of an orangey-pink sunset.

“Are you all right?” he’d ask his mother, to which Pamela would pat his back and wave him along.

“Come on, girls!” Virgie pulled the blankets off Louisa, exposing bare feet and calves jutting out from a pink cotton nightgown.

Louisa smacked a pillow over her head. “I’m sleeping, and I have to work today!”

What a waste of time sleep could be! There was so much life to be lived, and today was a prime example. “Louisa, you don’t work until two in the afternoon, and it’s only seven in the morning. Do you know what we’re doing today? We’re going up in an airplane. We are flying a real-life plane!”

Aggie had climbed out of bed moments before and stood brushing her teeth while leaning against the doorjamb, her expression unenthused. “A plane. What plane?”

“It’s an old war biplane.” Virgie couldn’t believe everyone wasn’t squealing. “Agatha, you must be thrilled. This is up your alley.”

Aggie ran to the bathroom to spit, then waltzed back. “Where are we flying to?”

“Up and over the water, maybe a circle around the island.”

Aggie clasped her hands together in prayer. “Oh, Mommy! Maybe we can fly home to Washington, and I can see my friends?” she pleaded like she was asking to see a movie.

Virgie didn’t want to kill the mood, so she tried to appease her. “Well, not on your first day, but maybe you can work up to that.”

Betsy scampered in, her wild hair making clear she’d jumped out of bed. “I’m going to go up in an airplane. But how? I don’t know how to fly.”

Virgie found herself laughing, lifting her young daughter in an embrace. “Wiley is teaching us. Today is our first lesson.”

“Wiley?” The word rolled off Louisa’s tongue like sour lemon.

“Yes, he’s giving us a great price to try it out, so let’s be grateful.”

“You could get locked up for taking kids in an airplane, but okay. I’ll try it.” Louisa sifted through her clothes without looking up.

“Yes! I knew you girls would be excited.” Virgie gave her eldest daughter a hug that went unreturned.

She wondered if Louisa would ever look at her like she did when she was young, like Virgie was the only person in the world that mattered.

Or if Louisa would ever willingly spend time with her again, rather than begrudgingly doing so.

“Wiley said to bring a sweatshirt. It might be cold up there.”

They drove the farm roads to the airfield, a grassy expanse adjacent to the powdery sands of South Beach.

Wiley, waving as they pulled into the dirt lot, leaned over the cockpit of a black shiny plane with two white stripes on the wings.

He hopped down the steps. “Hi, everyone. Welcome,” he said, pulling off his leather gloves.

He put his hands on his hips, the sun turning his center part golden. “Hello, Virgie.”

She pressed the front pleats of her shorts flat. “Hi. We’re so excited, a little nervous too.” Heat flushed up her neck as she sensed Louisa’s eyes pinned to her. Virgie didn’t know what to do with her hands. Finally, she rested them on Betsy’s shoulders.

The Katama Airfield wasn’t so much an airport as a small shed to get out of the sun, and beside that, a row of a half dozen other small private planes.

Betsy raised her hand. “Wiley, isn’t this the plane that does circles over the ocean sometimes?”

“Yes, but I won’t do anything like that with you.” He fastened the top button on his gray air suit. “Our ride will be nice and smooth. We’ll see a bit of the island too.”

Aggie stopped biting her nails. “You can do rolls with me in the plane.”

“Your father may kill me.” He folded his arms over the pocket on his chest. “No, today we’re going to stick to the basics, and if you seem confident enough, I’ll let you steer.”

The girls followed him to the plane, and he showed them where they’d be sitting, pointing out the functionality of each circular dial.

He held up a small bag of ginger chews, in case they felt airsick, and asked who had sunglasses.

When Louisa was the only one to raise her hand, he said he had a pair of air goggles in the hangar they could borrow.

“It’s so bright up there it’s easy to be blinded.

” He dashed off to the small metal structure, then jogged back and handed Virgie the goggles.

Louisa and Betsy closed in on Virgie, and in a loud whisper, Betsy said: “What if we all die?”

Virgie didn’t hide her response, interrupting Wiley’s laughter and pulling her daughter’s skinny frame against her: “Well, the bright side is: Only one of us can die at a time. A plane can only crash once, right?”

“No one is going to die.” Wiley banged on the body of the plane. “This girl is as reliable as they come.” He asked who was going to go first, and all three daughters pointed to Virgie.

“How do you know the plane is a girl?” Betsy wrinkled her nose. “James told me boats are always named after girls, too, but how do you know?”

Glancing at Virgie with a grin, he turned his attention to Betsy, as though her question was the most important one in the world.

It was something Charlie would do, and she thought then how a journalist and a politician weren’t all that different: both were always trying to get people to do what they wanted.

“Well, women are a comfort to us, whether we’re pilots or sailors,” he said.

“Women find a way to protect the people they love. If the plane is a girl, she’ll keep you safe, just like she does everyone else in her life. ”

Pulling the air goggles over her head, Virgie chortled. “I’m not sure I buy that, Wiley. I always thought those names were about control. If a boat is a woman, you can tell it what to do, where to go, how slow or fast it can move. Same with airplanes.”