Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Darryl
I sat in the cockpit, flipping through the pre-flight checklist with my co-pilot, Mike.
The plane was gassed up, the weather was holding steady for our Charlotte run, and I’d already gone over the systems twice.
Ten years flying, and I still don’t cut corners.
Every switch, every number matters. Mike tapped a gauge, looking over.
“All set up here, Darryl. You good to go?”
“Yeah,” I said, adjusting my headset. “Let’s get this thing off the ground. No delays.”
“You got it,” he said, punching in the last coordinates. “Gate’s almost done boarding. Won’t be long.”
I nodded, glancing out at the tarmac crew scurrying around with their wands and carts.
This part always clicked for me, the quiet before the engines roared.
Everything is locked in, no loose ends. The cabin crew was finishing up, too, and I caught a glimpse of that new girl, Ashley, through the half-open cockpit door.
She was wrestling a bag into an overhead bin, her face twisted in a scowl.
Still mad at me from last week, I figured, when I told her to keep the galley noise down.
Didn’t care much. I don’t need her smiling at me, just need her doing her job right.
“Let’s call them in,” I said, hitting the intercom switch. “Cabin crew, prep for departure. Five minutes out.”
Mike laughed, leaning back in his seat. “Have you ever given them a break? That Ashley girl looks like she’s ready to chuck something at you.”
“She’ll live,” I said, double-checking the fuel readouts. “I’m not here to make friends. Plane’s gotta fly clean.”
“Fair point,” he said, shrugging. “You’re the captain.”
The flight went off without a hitch, two hours to Charlotte with nothing but smooth air.
I kept my hands on the controls, eyes on the instruments, talking to air traffic control when they chimed in.
We hit every waypoint dead on. Halfway through, I unbuckled and stood up, nodding at Mike. “Take it for a minute. I need to move.”
“Sure thing,” he said, sliding his hands to the yoke.
I stepped out, stretching my back, and headed down the aisle.
Ashley was in the galley, pouring coffee for some guy in a tie, all charm and big smiles.
“Here you go, sir,” she said, handing him the cup.
“Need anything else?” He shook his head, and she grinned wider.
Then she turned, saw me, and that smile dropped like a rock, replaced by a glare that could’ve burned a hole through the fuselage.
I grabbed a water bottle from the cart, acting like I didn’t notice.
“Everything running smooth back here?” I asked, keeping it short.
“Yes, Captain,” she said, her voice clipped tight. “All under control.”
“Keep it that way,” I said, turning back to the cockpit. She muttered something low, probably a jab, but I let it slide. Didn’t matter what she thought, as long as the cabin stayed in line.
We touched down in Charlotte right on schedule, and I taxied us to the gate with no fuss. Mike clapped me on the shoulder as we shut everything down. “Another perfect run. You’re like clockwork, Darryl.”
“Gotta be,” I said, pulling off my headset. “See you tomorrow.”
I grabbed my bag and headed out, passing Ashley as she handed a kid his backpack.
She was all sunshine again, chatting with the mom, but when her eyes flicked to me, that scowl snapped back fast. Whatever.
Ten years in, I’ve seen plenty of crew with chips on their shoulders.
She’d either get over it or she wouldn’t. Not my issue.
Back home, I barely got my jacket off before the noise slammed into me like a wall.
The house was stuffed with people, music pumping from the living room, voices shouting over each other.
My folks were throwing one of their big parties again, the kind where they haul in every relative, business pal, and random neighbor to show off.
I loosened my tie, sidestepping a caterer shoving a tray of mini quiches in my face, and made a beeline for the kitchen.
Mom was there, wine glass in hand, laughing loudly with Aunt Sue like they were starring in their show.
“Darryl!” she said, spotting me as I walked in. “There’s my pilot. Come here, say hello.”
“Hey, Mom,” I said, grabbing a beer from the fridge. “Hey, Sue.”
“Look at you,” Sue said, reaching over to pat my arm. “Flying planes like a pro. Your dad says you’re the best they’ve got.”
“He’s pushing it,” I said, twisting the cap off the bottle. “Just doing my job.”
“Don’t sell yourself short,” Mom said, waving her glass around. “Meyer Aviation wouldn’t be what it is without you. Your granddad kicked it off, your dad built it up, and now you’re out there keeping the name strong.”
“Yeah,” I said, taking a sip. “Something like that.”
She turned to Sue, her voice carrying over the chatter. “He’s a captain now, flies everywhere. Dallas last week, Charlotte today. The airline can’t stop singing his praises.”
“That’s something,” Sue said, nodding. “You must be proud, Nancy.”
“Oh, I am,” Mom said, beaming at me. “He’s steady as a rock. Not like these young kids who bounce from job to job.”
I leaned against the counter, letting them ramble.
The family business was a big deal around here, started as a little cargo operation way back, and is now a solid piece of a major airline.
They loved hyping it up, and I was the main attraction tonight.
Didn’t mind, as long as I could grab some food soon.
Dad walked in, clapping me on the back hard enough to slosh my beer. “There’s the man. How was the flight?”
“Clean,” I said, setting the bottle down. “No problems.”
“That’s my boy,” he said, turning to a guy in a suit trailing behind him. “Darryl keeps those planes humming. This is Bill, who runs that trucking company downstate.”
“Hey, Bill,” I said, shaking his hand. “Good to meet you.”
“Pilot, huh?” Bill said, looking me over. “Bet that’s a kick. Have you ever thought about settling down, though? Guy like you, solid gig, family name. Time to start your crew.”
I forced a smile, picking up my beer again. “Not really. I’m good where I’m at.”
“Come on,” Dad said, laughing. “You’re in your thirties now. Your mom’s itching for grandkids. Right, Nancy?”
“You bet,” she said, swooping back into the conversation. “He’s too good to stay single. We keep telling him, find a nice girl, put down some roots.”
“I’ve got roots,” I said, keeping it casual. “They’re up in the air.”
Bill chuckled, but Mom wasn’t letting up. “You need a home base, too. Someone to come back to. What about that girl from the bakery, Sarah? She’s a doll.”
“Not my speed,” I said, sipping my beer. “I’m fine, Mom. Really.”
“Stubborn as a mule,” she said, shaking her head. “Just like your father.”
“Guilty,” Dad said, grinning at Bill. “But we’ll crack him eventually. Watch us.”
“Good luck with that,” I said, slipping out of the kitchen.
The living room was a madhouse, cousins sprawled on the couches, Uncle Pete yelling about football, some guy I didn’t know strumming a guitar by the window.
I snagged a plate of sliders from a tray and headed upstairs, dodging a cousin who tried to pull me into a card game.
My old room was still there, a quiet spot away from the racket.
I shut the door, dropped onto the bed, and kicked my shoes off.
The slider was warm, a little messy, and I took a bite, glad for the break.
The door creaked open, and my sister, Jen, poked her head in. She’s nineteen, full of spunk, and lives to get under my skin. “Hiding already?” she said, stepping in and flopping onto the desk chair. “Party’s just warming up.”
“It’s loud enough down there,” I said, wiping my hands on a napkin. Flew today. I’m done.”
“Yeah, yeah, Captain Darryl,” she said, smirking. “Mom’s still on you about a wife, huh?”
“Always,” I said, grabbing another slider. “Sarah from the bakery this time.”
“Sarah?” Jen laughed, spinning the chair around. “She’s got that goofy giggle. You’d hate her in a day.”
“Probably,” I said, chewing. “Not shopping for one anyway.”
“You’re such a grump,” she said, leaning forward. “They’re not giving up. ‘Oh, Darryl, you’re so awesome, get a wife!’ They were hyping you to Bill like you’re some rock star.”
“Let ‘em talk,” I said, shrugging. “Long as they don’t drag me into it.”
“Too late,” she said, grinning. “Mom’s got a whole list. Sarah’s just the opener. Next, it’ll be that nurse from the coffee shop or the vet’s kid.”
“Perfect,” I said, tossing the plate onto the nightstand. “I’ll just stay up here.”
“Boring,” she said, hopping up. “Come on, at least dance with Aunt Sue. She’s tipsy and asking for you.”
“Nah,” I said, leaning back. “Tell her I’m asleep.”
“Liar,” she said, heading for the door. “You’re no fun, Darryl. One day you’ll give in, and I’ll be there to rub it in.”
“Keep dreaming,” I said, closing my eyes as she left. The music thumped below, but I tuned it out. Job’s what counts, not this mess or their schemes. Ashley can glare, Mom can nag, but I’m set. Sky’s all I need.