Chapter 13
PATRICK
“So you’re the Santa’s little helper elf or whatever you want to call yourself,” Ellen said, the hint of a smirk on her face as I walked into the hangar.
The place was as familiar as it had ever been, the smell of grease and engine oil a balm I didn’t know I’d missed.
She looked me up and down, taking in the rough clothes and grease-stained boots, no trace of my usual suit.
It had taken me longer than I’d expected to get used to feeling the rough cotton coveralls instead of the tailored lines of my usual executive attire.
“I prefer to think of myself as a silent mechanic,” I replied, trying to keep the mood light despite the heavy cloud of tension I felt. Ellen was observant, sharp-eyed, and I knew I wouldn’t fool her for long.
“More like a mystery mechanic,” she shot back. “Sadie’s been trying to figure out who’s been sneaking in here to work on the Tin Goose. She’s been driving herself crazy thinking someone’s messing with her plane.”
I rubbed my neck, feeling the strain of the early mornings I’d been keeping, slipping in before dawn and staying out of Sadie’s way while she worked on her corporate side of things.
“I just want to help,” I said simply, but the truth was heavier than I cared to admit.
I didn’t want Sadie to know I was here. Not yet.
Ellen frowned slightly, the crinkle lines deepening on her forehead. “Why all the secrecy, Patrick? You know she’s not going to be happy when she finds out.”
That was the truth I’d been running from.
Sadie would probably be furious that I’d been meddling with her restoration project, especially after everything that had happened.
But I couldn’t stop. It was the only way I knew how to make things right.
Working on that plane was my silent apology, a way of showing her that I was willing to get my hands dirty, to meet her halfway in the only language I could think of: engines, metal, and the sweat that came from putting in the work.
Even if I wasn’t entirely sure how to handle half the tools, I was learning fast, and that mattered.
“It’s complicated.” I pulled on my work gloves, the worn leather tight around my palms. “I’m not trying to mess things up more than I already have.
This...” I gestured to the plane, where the new wiring and some of the smaller mechanical adjustments had already been installed. “This is my way of fixing it.”
Ellen shrugged, clearly skeptical but letting me go about my work without further argument. “Your funeral. Just don’t get too comfortable. Sadie’s been more on edge lately than I’ve ever seen her, and when she finds out...”
She didn’t have to finish the sentence. I knew what she meant.
Sadie had every right to be angry. I’d be furious if I were in her shoes.
But I had to try. This was the only thing I could think to do, something tangible, not just words, not just another apology she’d hear and toss aside.
This was about action, about me showing up for her in the way she needed, even if she didn’t want me around.
I had to hope that by the time she found out, the plane would speak for me, show her the lengths I was willing to go.
As I moved to start on the engine housing, the sound of Ellen’s wrench clanging against metal pulled my attention away.
She was working on the P-38 a few bays down, a massive, sleek bird that seemed out of place next to the humble, boxy Ford Trimotor.
I could see the sweat glistening on her brow despite the chill of the early morning. She caught me staring.
“Don’t think I’m going easy on you, rich boy,” she called out. “I want you working on that Trimotor like it’s a life-or-death situation.”
“Already there,” I replied, though the joke didn’t reach my eyes.
She gave me a knowing nod and returned to her work.
For a few hours, there was a strange peace in the restoration bay, the kind that only came when the world fell away and there was nothing but the rhythmic sound of metal on metal and the occasional grunt of effort as I tackled the stubborn bolts that had been rusted into place by decades of neglect.
This was nothing like sitting in a boardroom, watching numbers dance on a screen.
Here, my hands ached, my muscles burned, but every little bit of progress felt real, earned, not just a strategy session away.
The rhythm of my work against stubborn metal came to an abrupt halt as my phone vibrated in my back pocket, the sudden buzz alien against the backdrop of metallic clangs and Ellen’s distant cursing.
I pulled off a grease-stained glove with my teeth, sighing as I glanced at the screen, David’s name illuminated there like a summons back to a life I was desperately trying to escape.
Each call reminded me of the corporate sacrifice I was making, the mountain of decisions I’d handed off to him while I played blue-collar here in Sadie’s world.
I wasn’t sure how much longer I could keep asking him to cover for me, to shield my absence from a board already growing restless at their missing CEO.
The thought gnawed at me, but I pushed it away.
There was no choice, not yet. Not until Sadie saw what I was doing, not until she understood the lengths I’d go to fix the fractures in our marriage that I had caused.
“What’s up?” I asked, leaning against the fuselage as I wiped my brow.
David’s voice was tight with stress. “You need to get back, Patrick. There’s an emergency meeting at the office, something to do with the Asian markets. The board’s asking for you specifically, and you’re not here.”
“Handle it, David,” I said firmly, knowing full well how much I was asking of him. “You know the markets. I need a little more time here.”
There was a pause before he sighed heavily.
“I can cover for you for now, but you’re running out of excuses.
They’re going to notice eventually. The company needs you visible, especially after everything with Alyssa.
You know the board’s been buzzing about that.
They’re starting to question the direction things are going. ”
The mention of Alyssa soured my stomach, her name a bitter taste that rose like bile at the back of my throat, each syllable a reminder of the chasm I’d created between Sadie and myself.
The very sound of her name on David’s lips, even across the phone line, made me grip the greasy rivet gun tighter until my knuckles whitened.
“They’ll survive,” I said, the words sharper than I’d intended, “Just keep things steady. I’ll be back this afternoon, as usual.
” My voice carried a finality I didn’t entirely feel, knowing that by then I would smell of sweat and oil instead of cologne and leather, my suit a memory beneath layers of grease-stained work clothes.
I hung up without waiting for David’s response, turning my attention back to the corroded engine mount that demanded my full attention, its resistance somehow matching the board’s impatience.
“All right. But be prepared for some blowback. The board’s not stupid. They can see something’s off.” The concern in his voice was clear.
“Just remember that beach,” I said.
“It might be two months after all of this. But I’ve got you for now. Good luck, and I’ll see you later.”
I hung up, the metallic click of my phone case echoing in the cavernous hangar as I tried not to let the pressure get under my skin like grime under a fingernail.
This was part of the sacrifice I was making, every missed call a reminder of the corporate kingdom I’d stepped away from.
But I couldn’t think about the boardroom right now, not with the weight of the pneumatic rivet gun in my grease-slickened hands.
My focus had to stay on the work, on Sadie.
The more I got done on this plane, the closer I’d be to getting her back, and that was worth any corporate optics I was sacrificing in the process.
But even with the work absorbing most of my attention, I could feel Ellen watching me.
She had been quieter than usual, her presence a steady weight that was hard to ignore.
I knew she could see how this whole situation was wearing on me.
She’d known Sadie far longer than I had, had worked by her side in ways that I’d never fully understood.
There was a deep, almost sisterly bond between them that I could never touch, and I envied it. Maybe she saw something I didn’t.
“You look like hell,” she commented, wiping her hands on a rag as she stepped over to where I was working.
I chuckled humorlessly, too exhausted to do anything else. “I feel like it.”
Ellen leaned against the workbench next to me, her expression serious. “What’re you doing, Patrick? Sneaking in here every morning like a thief in the night?”
“I’m trying to show her I can change,” I said quietly, my gaze fixed on the plane, unable to meet Ellen’s piercing eyes. “She needs to see I’m willing to do things her way, not just mine. The boardroom, the big decisions... None of it matters if I don’t get her back.”
She crossed her arms, watching me as if sizing up the truth in my words. “I’ve known Sadie a long time. She doesn’t give up easy. You’re gonna have to give her more than a fixed-up plane.”
I swallowed, knowing she was right but unsure what else I could offer.
The idea of giving up, of walking away from her entirely, was unthinkable.
Even if I had to lose my company, the reputation I had built, I’d do it.
But I couldn’t tell Ellen that, not yet.
She’d think I was a fool, and maybe I was one, but I didn’t know any other way to make it up to Sadie. Not yet.
“I’m just hoping this is the first step,” I admitted, finally meeting her gaze. “If she sees the work I’ve done, maybe she’ll let me explain. Maybe she’ll see that I’m serious.”
Ellen raised an eyebrow but didn’t argue further.
Instead, she gave me a small, almost imperceptible nod, and walked back over to her plane.
The rest of the morning passed without interruption, and by the time the sun was high in the sky, I had made enough progress to feel a sense of accomplishment.
I didn’t need her seeing my work to feel satisfied, at least not completely.
There was something cathartic about working with my hands again, like reconnecting with a part of myself I’d neglected for years, buried under meetings and executive decisions.
It was nearly afternoon when Ellen’s voice pulled me back from the engine I was halfway through disassembling. “Better pack up. I got a text from Sadie. She’s heading back early from the office. Should be here any minute.”
I cursed under my breath, rushing to clean up my tools and wipe down the work area. I was good at covering my tracks by now, but every time felt like a close call, a ticking clock pushing me faster. “Thanks, Ellen. You sure she didn’t mention...?” I let the question hang, unable to ask it directly.
She just shook her head. “She didn’t say a thing about you. Just that she was finishing early and wanted to get a few hours in here.”
“Good. I’ll be out of her way.” I finished stashing my tools, giving the plane one last appreciative glance before heading toward the back door of the hangar, where I could slip out unnoticed. But before leaving, I turned back to Ellen. “Thanks, Ellen. For not giving me away.”
She gave me a shrug, her eyes softening for a split second before the gruff exterior returned. “I’m not picking sides. Sadie’s my friend. You? I’m just letting you clean up your mess.”
It stung more than I thought it would, but I deserved that. I’d been so caught up in fixing things that I hadn’t seen how much I’d dragged other people into it. Ellen was right to stay neutral. She wasn’t here for my redemption. She was just watching me dig my way out of a hole of my own making.
As I slipped out the back door into the warm afternoon sun, I glanced over at my car, knowing I should go back to the office and face the fallout there.
But I was reluctant to leave this world of rust and tools and engine parts for the sleek coldness of my usual routine.
Maybe that was the problem. I’d built my life around efficiency, around winning in the business world, and forgot what it meant to get my hands dirty.
That’s what Sadie loved, what she was best at.
And I was only beginning to understand that now.
I took a deep breath and drove toward the office, my mind still half in the hangar with Sadie, imagining the moment when she’d walk into the restoration bay and see what I’d been doing behind the scenes.
It was a risky gamble, but I had to believe it was the right one, the only way to reach her.
The thought kept me steady as I made my way back to Holbrook Aviation, the steel of my resolve hardening with every mile, ready for whatever the board or the markets could throw at me. Sadie was all that mattered.
Before I knew it, I spotted Sadie’s car approaching from the other direction.
Part of me wanted to duck down so she couldn’t see me, but hiding would have been both silly and dangerous.
There was nothing I could do other than look over to her as we approached one another, but her attention was focused on something on the road, her face lost in thought.
I turned to look at her as we passed each other.
She looked tired. I could certainly sympathize.
I felt tired, too. But seeing her like this made my heart ache.
I should have been in her corner when she needed me.
Instead, I made it all worse. There was no amount of work I could do in a hangar to erase that image from my mind of her exhausted expression, of her hunched shoulders and distant eyes.
That was what Alyssa did to her. That was the true mark my step-sister had left, and that’s what I needed to fix, even if I didn’t have the tools to do it yet.
But I wouldn’t give up. I would do the work until she could see the result of it and decide to give me another chance, even if that day seemed an impossibility right now.
Because I’d do anything to take away that tired look and put a smile on her face again, even if I had to spend the next few months doing all the hard and dirty work on my own, like I had been.