21. Cam
twenty-one
Cam
T his is it. Having Amie and Maisy here—this is it for me.
I’ve never imagined settling down with a wife and a kid and a dog but since meeting Amie in Singapore, I can’t imagine a future without her in it. She’s the only face I saw for a long time. And now Maisy’s is there too. They’ve been here all of a day and a half and I don’t want to let them go. I don’t think I can.
It’s not like I’ve never been in relationships. Okay, there haven’t exactly been many of them, and okay , none of them have lasted more than a few months. My job has always come between us—time away from home turning into a catalyst for the breakdown of something that might have become love.
Being flight crew is almost more of a lifestyle than a job. It’s something that dictates everything. When you sleep, when you eat, where you go. It’s something you don’t really get until you do it, and it’s something that’s proven to be a sticking point in the past, impossible for any women I’ve dated to understand.
And then I met Amie. Immediately, something about her called to me. And she understood , because this is her life too. But what if that’s another sticking point? What if, because we’re both always flying, always moving, we’ll never be able to connect? What if, because of our jobs taking us away all the time, it becomes too much? The thought of one of us giving up a job we love is unconscionable—the bitterness and resentment bubble almost unbidden just imagining it. I don’t want to give up my job any more than Amie does. I would never ask it of her, and I know she’d never ask it of me, either. But how can we be together, how can we raise our daughter, if neither of us are home?
I pull my glasses from my nose and toss them on the mattress beside me. I already commute from Phoenix to San Francisco to fly—what’s another couple of hours? There are openings for experienced captains at my airline’s bases in Boston and New York, and I’ve just composed an email to inquire about moving.
I need to talk to Amie about it. But first, I’m going to pick them up, drive them to my parents’ house, and spend another day with all of my favourite people in one place.
I thought I loved flying, but I never imagined life could feel this good.
Usually, on Black Friday, my mom drags my dad to the outlets and drains his credit card with her Christmas shopping. Today, though, she has more important things to focus on: her granddaughter and Amie, who I’m pretty sure my mom has already adopted as a surrogate daughter. We’re spending the day in the backyard, picking at Thanksgiving leftovers and enjoying the sunshine. Amie and Maisy are in the pool, and my parents and I are on sun loungers, watching the girls play.
I’m obsessed with the changes in Amie’s body since our night in Singapore. She’s still lithe and athletic but her curves are more defined; her hips are a little wider, her belly a little softer, her tits a little bigger.
My eyes catch on the bare skin of her torso, golden and glowing from spending the last couple of days in the sun, and I’m struck. I can’t believe my little girl grew in there. It blows my mind that the shrieking whirlwind splashing in my parents’ backyard pool right now grew from a tiny dot in Amie’s belly. It’s the sexiest fucking thought I’ve ever had when I remember that I was the one who got her pregnant in the first place. It fills me with a feral, animalistic pride, and my shorts tighten. I shift in place, adjusting my swelling dick surreptitiously and hoping no one notices.
Amie’s wearing a pretty orange bikini decorated with golden threads, and she laughs as Maisy splashes her with water. Maisy is wearing a matching orange ruffled one-piece with yellow armband floaties, and she’s sitting in a giant round floatie that looks like a donut with pink frosting and sprinkles.
My parents went to town once I told them about Maisy. They bought just about every pool toy they could find for their surprise granddaughter, and plenty of books, toys, and dresses, too. Since they arrived, Maisy and Amie have both been welcomed with open arms by my parents. I couldn’t have asked for a better response.
“Daddy, pool!” Maisy shouts from the shallow end of the water, and I look over from my favourite sun lounger. My mom jerks her head in Maisy’s direction as if to say ‘get over there’, and my dad hides a smirk with his beer bottle. So far, they’ve given me shit about how whipped I am approximately once an hour. Nevertheless, I rise from my seat and jog over, lowering myself into the opposite end of the pool and swimming lazy strokes towards her.
Normally, I’d cannonball and splash everyone, but I don’t want to encourage Maisy to do that before she can swim on her own. Afterwards, though, cannonball class will most definitely be in session .
“Daddy splash!” Maisy shouts out again as I get closer. She scoops water with her hands and flings it towards me as I reach the halfway point. I glance over at Amie who shrugs, shoulders shaking with the laughter she’s trying to stifle. I smirk and fling a handful of water towards her, before turning my attention to my little girl, who is waving for my attention. I splash her too, and when she shouts my name again, I duck beneath the surface and pop up again, a few inches closer.
It’s the funniest thing she’s ever seen. She screeches with laughter and my heart sings—making this girl happy is the most incredible feeling I’ve ever had, and I want to do it every single day for the rest of my life. Her laugh is the best sound I’ve ever heard.
We continue the game until I’m right in front of her, and then I duck up and resurface beneath her, lifting Maisy and her floatie high above my head like a trophy. She is my trophy—the best prize, my greatest achievement. Whatever happens, or doesn’t, between me and Amie, we’ll always have Maisy, our greatest gift, and she’ll always have us.
Maisy and I horse around in the water a while longer, and it’s not until I climb out with Maisy in my arms that I realise Amie left the pool. I’m not sure when she left, but my eyes scan the backyard until I find her on a sun lounger beside my mom, listening to her talk but watching me and our daughter with a soft smile. When she realises I’ve caught her, she looks away quickly, back to her conversation with my mom.
We leave my parents’ house with another armful of gifts for both Amie and Maisy, and a huge bag of leftovers to split between me and my girls.
I’m not sure when I started thinking of Amie and Maisy as my girls , but to me, that’s exactly what they are. It’s what they’ve always been. Amie and I have talked every night since I left London, and our conversation is easy. We talk about everything under the sun—Maisy, of course, work, her friends, my friends. We watch movies together. The only thing we haven’t talked about is that night in Singapore. The night I’ve never been able to forget. The night I replay in my mind every damn night, cock in my fist, jerking myself to release with her name on my lips. The night I met the woman who took up residence in my soul and never left.
I’m falling headlong down a spiral for Amie, for her brilliant mind and her wild heart.
I’m falling for her.
The road is quiet. All I see ahead is a heat haze from the high sun; to the sides, just desert. I glance in the rearview mirror to see Maisy looking out of the window, fascinated. She has Roger’s face pressed against the glass so he can see too.
“Daddy,” Maisy says, and I glance in the mirror again to see her still looking at the vast desert landscape. “How does the planes fly?”
“Wow, Maisy Mouse, that’s a big question!” Amie exclaims, turning in her seat to look at our girl. Maisy giggles.
“Can I show her? With the window?” I ask quietly, and Amie nods. I push the button to lower Maisy’s window and look at her again in the mirror.
“Okay Maisy Girl, you gotta listen to me right now. I’m gonna show you, but you have to promise me you won’t try this unless me or Mommy say it’s okay, okay? ”
Maisy nods seriously, her green eyes wide, and I flick my eyes to Amie who offers a grateful smile. The last thing either of us needs is for Maisy to be sticking her hands out of windows on every damn car ride.
“Okay, put your hand out the window.”
She gasps, and slowly, reaches one hand up until it’s outside the car. The other clutches Roger in a vice grip, like he might take flight through the open window too. I tap the brakes and slow the car to a crawl on the empty road.
“Now put all of your fingers together and turn it like this,” I say, holding out one hand to show her. My fingers are in a line with my palm flat. My pinky faces back and down, and my thumb points up and forward as I hold my hand at a forty-five degree angle. I check my mirror again to see Maisy’s hand copying mine.
“Hold it just like that, Maisy Girl,” I say, and tap the gas to speed up. As we pick up speed, I see Maisy’s hand lift when I glance back. She shrieks with delight.
“There ya go, Maisy Girl,” I laugh. “You’re flying! Your hand is doing exactly what the wings do. So when the plane goes really fast down the runway, all that air makes the wings go up, just like your hand, and that’s how the plane takes off.”
“I flying!” she cries, letting the air rush around her arm and lift it. “Roger, I flying!”
“I’m leaving Phoenix.” I push away from the kitchen counter. Maisy is fast asleep, and Amie is making tea, twirling the label from the teabag around the handle of a mug while she waits for the water to boil. I snag a bottle of water from the fridge and lean against it.
“Excuse me?”
“I’ve applied for a base change.”
Amie raises a brow.
“I want to be closer, Amie. To Maisy. To you. I don’t wanna be flying out of San Francisco, living in Phoenix, spending all my time commuting between the two when I could have that time with my girls.”
I don’t miss the way her eyes flare when I say my girls. Or the way her breath leaves her lips with a tiny, barely audible puff.
“I don’t want you to uproot your life, Cam,” she says, setting her cup down on the kitchen table. “I don’t want us to affect your career.”
“It’s a lateral move, Amie. Who knows, maybe I’ll have higher seniority out of Boston or New York.” I won’t. I already know my seniority will be lower than it is right now, whichever of the two bases I move to. I drink down half the bottle’s contents in one long gulp. “And there’s no uprooting about it—I want to do this.”
Warm hazel eyes search mine, a war playing out within them.
“Are you sure?”
“Positive,” I assert, resolute in my decision.
“Okay,” she whispers. “Okay. It would be nice to have you closer. For Maisy.”
I plaster a smile on my face. It would be nice to be closer to Maisy. It would be fucking amazing—all I want is to be closer to my little girl. But it would be everything too, to be closer to Amie.