32. Chapter 32
Chapter 32
“ W ho are you texting?”
I look up to see Chelsea standing in front of me, a paper cup of coffee in her hand, wearing her white jumpsuit. The one with the black-and-pink detailing.
I chuckle to myself. So many familiar things with this scene. I’m sitting on the same bench, tasked once again with watching our rigs, in the same hangar, in the same jumpsuit I was wearing three months ago. And my sister is, like last time, snooping.
But I’m a different person than I was three months ago when I was here last. I feel it. I’m … stronger. Not as strong as I need to be, but I’m definitely better in that area. I’m also not trying to hide anything anymore.
I hold up my phone so she can see it. “Hannah,” I say.
Chelsea glances at my phone and then back at me. “What are you telling her?”
“That I’m still not feeling this,” I say, giving Chelsea a sad smile.
She sags her upper body. “Again?”
“Yes,” I say holding out a hand. “But this time, I’m not going to try to stop it. I’m doing this.”
Chelsea takes a big breath. “Good, because I was going to throttle you.”
I’d had a small hope that the weather would be my saving grace, but the sky is clear and the wind is perfect. It’s like all the stars are aligning. If only I could get myself to align. I just want to feel happy about this. I want to feel good.
Chelsea sits next to me and puts an arm around me. “Love you,” she says.
“I love you too.”
“Fifteen minutes. We need to go queue up,” my dad says as he approaches us. He sits down on the other side of me. “You ready for this, Magpie?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.” Translation: nope.
He holds up the cylinder urn, the one holding my mom’s ashes. “I guess it’s time, then.”
My dad yells for Devon, who’s been flirting it up with some girls for the past fifteen minutes. He says goodbye to them, but not before one of them types her number into his phone. Devon, it would seem, hasn’t changed all that much in the last three months.
We put our stuff in a locker, take our rigs, then head out of the hangar and stand with our group to wait for our plane.
“Kiss for good luck?” Chelsea asks as we wait, her voice breaking on the last word. She gives us all a kiss on the cheek, and I think we’re all feeling so many emotions right now.
I take a couple of cleansing breaths because I still feel anxious. But because I’m resigned to do this, I just push it away. It’s probably not my best move, but it’ll get me through.
We load up on the plane, a group of ten going up, and buckle in. The most dangerous part of this entire thing is the takeoff. Before I can freak out or back out, we’re off, speeding down the runway. I wasn’t really going to back out. But I did entertain the thought for just a few seconds.
We climb up into the sky. It takes about twelve minutes to get to thirteen thousand feet. I look out the window I’m sitting next to, watching the ground below us get farther and farther away.
I realize something as I watch the buildings and the cars get smaller. The ashes that my dad is currently holding in his hand, in that white cylinder container, are all I have left of her. This is it. When my mom’s ashes go up into the sky, that’s my one last tether to her. My one last connection. I wonder if this has been my problem all along. Maybe I wasn’t really worried someone would get hurt—maybe I couldn’t deal with the finality of what we’re doing.
I’m crying now—big fat tears. I look over at Chelsea and she’s crying too. I reach over and grab her gloved hand and squeeze it.
About a thousand feet before we reach altitude, we start getting ready. Taking off our seat belts, putting on our helmets, doing a final gear check. Then we do this thing that everyone does before a jump; it’s like this little hand slap thing. It’s happened on every jump I’ve ever done. Like a good luck tradition.
Once at thirteen thousand feet, the pilot gives the signal to open the door. We let the other group go before us so we can exit the way we need to link up.
The feeling washes over me again. This final jump with my mom. This is all I have left. I want to stay on this plane and refuse to do it. But I know that I can’t. I have to do this for Devon, for Chelsea, and for my dad. I can’t let them down again.
When it’s our turn, the four of us squeeze out the door together, our backs facing outward. We’re each holding on to the inside of the doorframe so we can jump at the same time, so we can do it just like we practiced with Mom. It feels almost like clockwork. If only I didn’t feel so empty right now. So … sad.
Once we’re all leaning out of the plane and ready to go, my dad nods his head and we let go.
And then we’re falling, though it doesn’t feel like falling. It feels like you’re suspended in air. I’m close enough to Chelsea that I can grab on to her by her gripper. Devon has Dad by his, and we easily link up, Chelsea grabbing on to Devon. Just like we practiced. Mom—if she’s watching this—would be so proud.
We all look to my dad and he nods his head just once. Then he opens the top of the cylinder urn, and we watch as my mom’s ashes fly into the sky. It’s beautiful and heartbreaking and we did exactly what she wanted us to. I feel happiness that we were able to pull it off, but also such sadness. It’s over. That was it. The tether is gone.
My dad gives us a thumbs-up and we drop away, giving each other enough space to deploy our parachutes. I let mine go first and feel the tug as my drop slows. I watch as the rest of my family’s chutes deploy.
I’m by myself now, just me canopying through the sky, the world coming closer to me by the second. I guide myself toward the landing.
“Love you, Mom,” I say. I can’t help but feel close to her right now, up here in the sky. I can picture her, in her favorite teal jumpsuit with white detailing. Her grin wide as she flies through the sky, giving me a thumbs-up as she does one of the things she loved most.
And then an overwhelming realization comes to me. It’s a ton of information at once, but I feel it in my bones, like I’ve known it all along. I haven’t wanted to do this because of the finality of it all. But … it isn’t over.
I’ve been such a fool.
This is the tether. It’s still here. I can feel her right now, flying beside me. Smiling at me. Cheering me on. She’s been there when I was ATVing, zip-lining, cliff diving, and riding a bike through a quiet desert night. She’s there in every hug from my family, every kiss for good luck, every time I touch the necklace with her initial on it. The connection isn’t gone; she’ll always be with me.
She will always be with me.
I smile at this realization. I smile, and I laugh, and I cry.
After our landing, when we’ve gathered up our chutes, my dad pulls us into a family hug. I’m sobbing as we hold each other. We all are.
“We did it,” Dad says, tears rolling down his cheeks. “I love you all so much. Your mom loved you all so much.”
We hug each other. There are tears and laughter, and it’s just how she’d have wanted it.
Once we’ve pulled ourselves together, we go inside and drop off our rigs to be repacked. Devon grabs our stuff from the locker and brings it to us while we wait for our gear.
My cheeks hurt from smiling, and my nose feels raw from crying. I feel happy and tired and grateful. What a day it’s been. And it’s only nine thirty in the morning. But I feel like I’ve experienced so much, so many feelings in the past hour, that it feels like it should be the end of the day, like the sun should be going down.
Devon hands me my phone and the first thing I see is that I have a text from Chase. I smile. Despite everything that’s happened between us this past week, I’m grateful for him. For remembering today.
I picture him sitting at a café in London. Or maybe he’s at a pub. He’s got that signature half-smile on his face. I miss him. I miss texting him, miss talking to him. Maybe I can get over all these feelings and we could be just friends. I hope.
I open my text app and click on his name.
Chase: Hi, Mom. I’ve been wishing you could have met someone. Her name is Maggie. And she’s pretty amazing. I think you would have liked her … I know you would have. I could really use your help right now—maybe you could send me some guidance. See, I think I’m falling for Maggie, and I’m not sure how to tell her. I think I’ve been feeling this way for a while, but I didn’t realize it fully. I’ve been keeping myself from feeling a lot of things lately. I wanted to tell her before I left, but I felt selfish. I didn’t want to ask her to wait for me while I’m in London. But I don’t care that it’s selfish. I just want her to know. I need her to.
Chase: Oh, by the way, I’m waiting by her car right now. So, I’m planning to tell her this in person. Wish me luck, Mom.
My breath hitches and I look up from my phone. Is this for real?
“Where are you going?” Chelsea asks as I make a mad dash for the parking lot.
“I’ll be right back,” I yell back at her.
I exit the hangar and run toward my car. I don’t remember where I parked—it was so early when we got here, and I was feeling so many things. Now I’m frantic to remember; I need to know he’s really here.
And then I see my car, and there’s Chase standing by it. He’s looking down at his phone, wearing shorts and a charcoal-gray T-shirt.
“Chase,” I say when I’m just ten feet away from him.
He looks up and his lips pull up into a big smile. A grand one. It’s a sight to behold. He’s a sight to behold. And he’s really here, standing next to my car.
I run the last few feet and stop just in front of him.
“You’re here,” I say, still not fully believing it. “Why are you here? You’re supposed to be in London.”
“Changed my flight,” he says, his smile morphing into that half-grin I love so much.
He takes a step toward me, so we’re now just inches away from each other. “I couldn’t leave without seeing you. I tried, but I couldn’t do it. So I changed my flight, and here I am.”
I don’t know what to say; all I can do is stare at him.
“I’m sorry for … everything,” he says. “You were right about me, about what I was doing. I never realized how bad I was at feeling things. I’m working on it.”
“Your texts,” I say.
“Cheesy, right?”
I tilt my head, looking up at him. “I was going to say that you’re a copycat.”
He shrugs his shoulders. “Imitation is the greatest form of flattery.” He smiles.
“I’m sorry too,” I say.
He scrunches his brow. “Why are you sorry?”
“You were right. I was also avoiding things. With the jump.”
“But you did it?”
“I did,” I say, smiling and gesturing toward my jumpsuit. I’m sure I look windblown and my face is a little puffy from all the crying .
“How did it feel?”
I feel the tears prick behind my eyes. “It felt … amazing.”
Chase wraps his arms around me and pulls me into him. I bury my face in his chest, the tears flowing once again. I feel him kiss the top of my head.
I pull my face back so I can see him, still not believing he’s here. He reaches up and rubs one of my tears away with his thumb.
“Did you mean what you said … in your text?”
He smiles. “I did. Every word.”
“Good,” I say. “Because I’m falling for you too.”
Chase doesn’t hesitate; his lips find mine. There’s no precursor, no heated glance, no eyes searching my face beforehand. No tiptoeing or testing the waters. It’s his lips on mine, and it’s full of hunger, and wanting, and needing. It’s all the many things we want to say but aren’t ready to say yet. And I feel it all as his mouth parts mine and the kiss deepens.
We are all hands and lips and tongues up against my car. And it’s, hands down, the best kiss I’ve ever had. The most passionate kiss I’ve ever felt. I’m not falling for Chase—I’ve already fallen.
The kisses start to change into something more slow and tender, and then Chase pulls his head back and leans his forehead against mine. We’re both out of breath, both feeling the heat from this midmorning desert air.
“That was …”
“Yeah,” I finish. There are no words, really.
He pulls away and looks at me. I smile at him and I know: this is it. He is it. All I’ve ever wanted and needed. The stranger who was on the other end of my texts. This man. Chase .
I think he feels it, too, because now we’re both smiling, and hugging, and kissing, and laughing.
It’s the best feeling in the world.