Chapter 28 Grey
GREY
After cleaning up from breakfast, we cross the lawn to the lakeshore where the seaplane is docked.
Sonny gambols around, chasing birds and driving his toy truck along a fallen tree limb.
I have numerous old friends and connections in the area.
They’re always eager to help, and I compensate them well for the upkeep of the cabin, grounds, food delivery, and, of course, maintaining the plane.
Sonny spreads his arms like wings and flies around as I prepare. Then, like flight is as much in his blood as sailing—my father’s side and mother, respectively—he hops into the plane.
I pat the metal side affectionately. “Ah. The old girl.” My ring glints in the morning light, but whether Everly notices, she doesn’t say anything.
“Old?” Everly asks, uncertain about flying in such a small contraption.
“This was my father’s and was named after Mom.” I point to where the name Ingrid is printed in red script near the belly. “It was Pierceson Adams’s first plane. The investment he took a gamble on and grew into a small fleet to support the family,” I say fondly.
“It works?” Everly asks.
“Trust me. Also, according to my dad, Mom wore the same look on her face when he proposed to her.”
Everly’s eyebrows lift.
“I mean, when he proposed flying. They were early in their relationship and knew they were going to marry one day. Anyway, we should get going. Don’t want to be late for church.
” I’m not operating on autopilot, but I fall into the rhythm of preparing the plane for takeoff with practiced ease.
I make quick work of getting off the ground and soon the house and property shrink and become a miniature scene below.
Sonny is delighted. Everly has white knuckles as she peers out the windows.
I’m in one of my happy places, especially with the two of them along for the ride.
After a few minutes, she sighs and says, “It’s almost like I can walk out on the clouds.” Her voice has a dreamy quality.
“It’s peaceful up here. Well, aside from the sound of the propellers.”
“This place truly is magical,” she says.
Shortly after we’re airborne, we land on the other side of the lake on the shore of my parents’ property. Or parent. My mother still lives here after my dad died.
It’s a short jaunt to the church from here. Everly wears practical shoes for walking, but it doesn’t escape my notice that she plants her feet firmly on the ground after the flight.
“That was intense, but exhilarating. I feel like we’re on our very own adventure.”
I chuckle. “That brings me back in time. Bran and I used to mess around on the property, build forts, and swim in the lake during the summer until it got so dark, we were afraid a monster lurked in the deep. Camped out in the backyard, we’d read our favorite book series called Choose Your Own Adventure by flashlight. ”
She giggles—presumably at the monster comment. “I remember those books from school. Well, before I started homeschooling with tutors, so I could increase my time on the ice. Do you still have your copies? When Sonny is old enough, I bet he’d like them.”
“My mother saves everything, so there’s a good chance they’re somewhere around here.”
Sonny grips my leg. “Monsters?”
“No, no monsters,” I assure him while hoisting him into my arms. “In a way, we’re choosing our own adventure. Whatever we want to make of life.”
“Sometimes life chooses our adventure for us, though.” She pulls the scarf tighter around her shoulders.
“True, but we get to pick how we respond and the adventure we’re on right now includes meeting my mom, so we’d better get moving.” I extend my free hand for Everly to take.
She starts walking in the other direction until there’s no more slack and I draw her back to me.
“Where are you going?”
Forehead a rumpled mess, Everly says, “I didn’t realize this was a meet-the-parents adventure. What if she learns that I’m helpless in the kitchen?”
“Your cookie dough will win her over.”
“What if she notices that I’m wearing a scrunchie circa 1998?”
“She’ll appreciate your thriftiness.”
“What if she finds out I married you for reasons of convenience?” But I pretend not to hear her because I haven’t yet figured out how to handle that particular issue.
Hopefully, at least for this first meeting, it won’t come up in conversation.
It’s not like I plan to blurt something like, We got married in the courthouse, and lucky thing too, because it allowed me to obtain custody of my son.
She needed my insurance, and don’t worry, we don’t have rules that resemble those outlined in the book and movie Fight Club.
I don’t plan to bring up marriage at all. At least not during this first visit. Hopefully, Sonny will provide enough of a distraction.
We turn from the lake and climb the well-trod path, past the house, and to the church that I’ve been going to since I can remember. However, what I hadn’t remembered to do was mention to my mother that I have a visitor, or that I’m going to be here at all.
Ingrid Adams’s life is predictable and she likes it that way, but I imagine she’ll appreciate my visit and meeting Everly, no matter that I didn’t let her know ahead of time. I come home as often as possible and know I should make an effort to get here more, especially now that she’s alone.
“This is where you grew up?” Everly asks when we pass the mailbox printed with the name Adams in a little boy’s scrawl.
I nod and point to it. “When I was in first grade, I was very concerned that Santa wouldn’t be able to find our house way out here, so I snuck out on Christmas Eve and wrote our last name on the mailbox.”
“Santa comes here?” Sonny asks.
“He sure does, and we have an extra-large chimney at home, so don’t you worry.”
“I’m guessing Santa appreciates that.” Everly giggles.
The sound sends tingles through me that are akin to the excitement I felt on Christmas Eve as a little boy. Anticipation, joy, warmth.
In the entry to the church, the white-haired ladies I’ve known since I was a baby gather like cotton in a field. I pick my mother out of the crowd and stride over, leading Everly by the hand.
“Grey? Well, bless. I did not expect to see you today. My prayers have been answered.” She coos and fusses over Sonny.
I wrap her in a bear hug.
“You trimmed your hair and beard,” she says.
“Looking good, right? Sorry that I didn’t phone ahead. We only got in yesterday afternoon.”
“This little man has grown so much. Elsie called but said she couldn’t stay because wedding plans had to be made. It was good of her to look after him. Glad you’re home.”
“Me too. But that’s not all.” I step aside, realizing my massive frame blocked Everly from view.
She smiles and gives a little wave.
The women in my mom’s book club descend on Everly, chirping about how lovely she is and how wonderful it is to meet her and asking about a million questions—presuming she’s Sonny’s mother. They don’t know about my ex or the trials I’ve been through trying to track her down and obtain custody.
And my mother certainly doesn’t know what Everly means to me. I didn’t until yesterday. The piano rings out.
“We’d better head inside,” I say, shepherding everyone forward.
Preoccupied with Sonny, Mom doesn’t have a chance to ask questions. I grip Everly’s hand so she isn’t swallowed up in the commotion.
After a prayerful morning, we end up where we started in front of the church, everyone talking a mile a minute. I try to slow them down as they tell embarrassing stories about me when I was a little boy and got into all kinds of trouble.
“Who has the pie?” I ask, hoping that’ll keep us on track.
Each week, one of the women in my mom’s group bakes a pie and the others go to her house afterward and eat it, catch up on life, and praise the Lord.
“Blueberry crumble,” Mrs. Nelson says, claiming her day.
“Mmm. Sounds good. Now, let’s show Everly what UP baking tastes like,” I say, rallying them.
They start walking, but my mother remains on the steps of the church, motionless and pale. While my grief manifested as anger, I often found my mother paralyzed as though deep in thought, in mourning.
I turn back and say, “Mom, are you coming?”
Ingrid blinks a few times, strides over, and glances at my hand and then at Everly’s hand. “Are you...are you married?” Her words are crisp.
My mouth goes dry. I haven’t prepared a response.
Everly’s lips part, but nothing comes out.
We didn’t come up with a Marriage of Convenience Club rule for this moment, but it’s up to me to figure out a way to explain.