Chapter 9 Heart Palpitations
Nine
Heart Palpitations
Nora
The next day, I slide through the yoga studio doors just as the class is unrolling their mats. I tiptoe past the line of bodies to the back corner where Mom is already situated.
“You’re late,” she whispers.
“I prefer to think of it as on-time adjacent.” I barely get my mat unrolled before the instructor cues the first pose.
I fold forward, lungs still catching up to my ambition.
“Besides, I had a good reason. OneDate got featured in a dating and relationship blog. It was a small mention, but it feels like the start of something.”
Mom glances over at me from the corner of her eye. “That’s wonderful, sweetheart. I’m proud of you. How was yesterday?”
“Actually…” I say, still a little breathless, “…kind of fun. I hung out with Miles.”
“The guy you didn’t want on your app?”
“Yeah. He needed help with something so I’m kind of doing him a favor.” I wince as the instructor says, “open your heart space.” Rude. I dismiss her words. “Which… brings me to my next question. What are you doing next Saturday? I have a surprise.”
Her eyes narrow, but she’s smiling. “What kind of surprise?”
“It’s a fun one.” I grin. “And I think you’ll… really like it.”
She studies my face before she nods. “Okay. I trust you.”
“Great. I’ll pick you up.”
Saturday arrives, and the second I pull into the lot, based on her frown, her skepticism radiates through the car.
“You brought me to a park?” she asks, side-eyeing the wide stretch of grass and tiny planes buzzing in the distance.
“It’s not just any park. It’s an RC park.”
She tilts her head. “Still doesn’t help.”
“RC as in radio-controlled. People fly planes, helicopters, and drones. It’s kind of fun.”
“Did you pick up a new hobby? Because that still doesn’t explain why we’re here.”
“No,” I laugh, unbuckling my seat belt. “Come on. I’ll show you.” I step out, the gentle wind tugging at my hair, and she follows, slower but curious. “Do you want me to grab your wheelchair? There’s some walking, but not a ton.”
She taps her cane against the pavement. “This will do.”
The park is quiet in the late afternoon, all sun-warmed grass stretching beneath a wide blue sky.
The fall leaves are at their peak, blazing gold, red, and orange, their colors even more vivid against the clear sky as if the trees are putting on one last brilliant show before the cold settles in.
A breeze threads through the trees, carrying a fresh outdoorsy scent that once meant weekend hikes but now mostly means what Mom can’t do anymore.
We walk side by side until I spot Miles hunched over a table, his gear laid out in precise little rows.
“Hey, Miles,” I call out.
He looks up. A few strands of hair fall into his eyes, and he pushes them back, the corner of his mouth lifting as he slides his glasses up the bridge of his nose. The movement is effortless, and it does something to my insides.
“This is my mom,” I say.
He straightens immediately. “Nice to meet you, Ms. Callahan.” He holds out his hand.
She studies it for a beat before shaking it, then looks up at him, amused. “Call me Diane.” Her gaze flicks around us. “So what is this place?”
Miles gives her a quick rundown of the RC park and explains that he’s a certified drone pilot. He’s completely at ease as he talks about his work. I brace for a random fact to pop out at any second. It never does.
“I also brought chairs so you can sit.” He gestures toward two open camp chairs beside the table. “Sometimes it’s easier to sit with the goggles on. Helps prevent motion sickness.”
“Goggles?” Mom looks between me and Miles.
“Yeah,” I interject like I’ve done this a million times. “Miles has goggles you can wear while he flies, so you’ll get a bird’s-eye perspective of the world.”
“Like a scenic tour?” Mom asks.
Miles nods. “Sort of. But our tour will be at one hundred and forty feet.” His gaze flicks to me. “Also, I have a cooler with snacks. Some nuts, vegetables, and hummus if anyone gets hungry.”
My heart stutters. Snacks. He brought snacks. But not only that, he brought foods my mom can eat.
“Oh, you’ve thought of everything.” Mom glances at me, her elbow connecting with my arm. She winks as Miles busies himself at the table.
“Batteries are charged,” he announces, unplugging one from the charger.
Mom wiggles her brows and points subtly between the two of us conspiratorially. I swat her hand away just as Miles spins around with a pair of goggles in his hand.
“I’ll let my mom go first,” I say.
“Actually, I brought an extra pair, so everyone can watch.” Miles steps closer and carefully settles the goggles over Mom’s eyes, adjusting the strap behind her head like he’s fitting a crown. “How’s that?”
Mom nods. “I can’t see anything.”
“I have to turn them on still,” Miles says. Then he hands me a pair, and I slide them over my eyes, snugging the strap into place. His warmth settles close beside me, crowding the space just enough that the air feels thicker. His voice brushes near my ear. “How do yours feel?”
“Good.” The words come out breathier than I intend.
“I’ll set them to the same frequency, and we’ll be ready.” He fidgets with the drone and controller for a moment. “All set.”
Mom and I settle into the chairs while Miles stands just behind my shoulder.
The display flickers to life, and the field snapping into focus.
Sunlight flares at the edges of the screen as blades of grass sway as if they’re waving at us.
The drone hums awake, a low, steady buzz that matches the rhythm of my pulse.
Then, without warning, the ground falls away.
Not too fast, but smooth, like the world is letting go of us.
Blue sky floods the screen, so vivid it feels unreal.
Beside me, Mom makes a sound that’s half gasp, half laugh. “Oh,” she breathes. “Oh my god.” I reach over and place my hand on hers.
The drone glides forward, slow and controlled, over the grass and toward the tree line. We soar past a cluster of wildflowers while the sunlight stripes the ground in golden ribbons.
Mom laughs, the sound shaky and bright. “Nora,” she whispers, voice trembling, “I’m flying.”
I bite the inside of my cheek so hard I taste copper.
Because she sounds… young. For one brief moment, she doesn’t sound weighed down by fatigue or numbness or stairs or the long list of things her body won’t let her do anymore.
She’s simply in the world again. The drone banks gently, and the view shifts to a pond shimmering in the sun like glass.
A walking trail appears below us with two cyclists meandering along the path while a dog drags its owner toward a stick.
Mom’s laughter softens into something quieter. “I forgot I could feel like this.”
I don’t trust my voice, so I sit there, goggles on, heart pounding wildly. I can’t see Miles, but I can feel him beside me. He didn’t just agree to a favor. He built my mom a door back into the outdoors. And I hate how much that means.
The drone dips low, skimming the tops of the grass before lifting again, smooth and controlled. He’s not showing off. Just giving her the view. After a few gentle loops around the field, he lands the drone softly in the grass in front of us.
Mom pulls off her goggles with trembling hands.
Her eyes shine, and her cheeks are flushed.
She looks as if she’s returned from a place she didn’t think she’d ever get to visit again.
“I haven’t felt that free in…” Her voice wavers.
She clears her throat like she’s mad at it.
“In a long time. This was my favorite day.”
Miles unhooks the controller from the lanyard around his neck and sets it down carefully on the table a few feet away. “Anytime you want, we can do it again. It’s kind of fun to fly with others.”
A rubber band grips my chest. This is the kind of man I don’t know what to do with. The kind who shows up and pays attention. “Thank you.” The words come out rougher than intended.
He shrugs, but there’s a softness to it. “It was nothing.”
I push to my feet and meet him at the table.
My gaze lingers on Mom for a second as she has her head tilted back, soaking up the sun.
Slowly, I turn back to Miles and lower my voice.
“It was everything.” His expression shifts—surprise flickering first, then to something softer.
“I haven’t seen her smile that big in a long time,” I add, because if I don’t say it, it’ll sit in my throat like a weight.
He meets my gaze and smiles. Not flirtatious, just a soft curve that’s equal parts friendly and sincere. “What do you say?” Miles holds out the controller to me. “Do you want to fly?”
I laugh immediately. “Absolutely not. If I touch it, I’ll break it.”
He grins. “It’s practically impossible to break one of these.”
I narrow my eyes. “Is that a challenge?”
“No. But,” he adds, lifting a second controller slightly, “I have a backup. If anything goes wrong, I flip a switch and take over.”
I glance at my mom. She’s watching us with far too much interest and gives me an encouraging nod. Traitor. “Okay,” I say carefully. “I’ll try it.”
Miles slips a lanyard over my neck and clips it to the controller.
“This stick controls altitude—up and down.” His warm hand settles over mine, and my body lights up like someone hit the on switch.
Absolutely not. This is strictly educational.
“And this one is left and right. You can use them at the same time.”
“So… like video games?”
“Kind of.”
A laugh escapes me. “I should warn you, I have zero coordination. I once got myself stuck in a corner playing Halo.”
“How?”
“Pure talent.” I shrug.
A quiet chuckle rumbles out of him. “Don’t worry. I’ve got you.”