CHAPTER 68
Declan
“I’ve never been afraid of flying,” I say. “Right up until this very second.”
“I think I’m doing great!” Summer cries.
It’s her third in-the-air lesson in my two-seater, and it’s been bumpy, to say the least. She keeps getting distracted as we fly over Lake Tahoe, and when she gets distracted, she forgets what she’s supposed to be doing.
“Focus on the air,” I urge her.
“What the hell does that even mean?”
“Focus on staying up in the air instead of looking down at the ground. For example, see that mountain right there? Don’t hit it.”
“That’s a weird thing to say.”
“Bird!”
“Where?”
Splat.
“No worries. Bro had nothing to live for, I guess. Rudder! More right rudder!”
“You’re a nervous wreck, Declan.”
“And you’re looking down again. Auughhh!
” I scream like a girl. I’m not proud of it, but I do.
I clear my throat and do my best to calm my rapid heartbeat.
“Actually, you’re doing great,” I lie. “How about you take a break for a few minutes, stretch your arms, and I’ll take over for the rest of our short trip? ”
“If you say so.”
I take over the controls and enjoy my first full inhale and exhale since Summer started the engine on the tarmac.
“I thought we had a deal,” she says after a few minutes.
“What deal is that? The one where you promised to swing from the trapeze every other Tuesday?”
“No! Hey, wait a minute. This is Tuesday, isn’t it? Are you hinting about something?”
“Strongly suggesting.”
“Don’t get off topic. About our deal…”
“Not the trapeze?”
“I’m talking about the ‘no Declan bullshit’ deal,” she says.
It’s been a month since we returned from Lompoc. We’ve moved into my house, but we’re keeping Summer’s cabin to use for those nights when we could use some privacy.
The family has been thrilled to have us as their neighbors. Jasmine hangs out at our place many days after school.
Sometimes I come home from a late flight to find Emma, Summer, Phoebe, and Victoria howling with laughter in the living room, yet the instant I set foot inside, they go silent. It’s disturbing.
And Special K drops by at all hours of the day and night to riffle through our kitchen in search of crackers or chicken legs or pimiento-stuffed olives or whatever else he can find.
All reasons why the cabin comes in handy.
Summer has been sharing a lot more with me about the shit she went through with her parents and how much she’s struggling with our fertility issue, but she’s seeing a therapist, and it’s helping her see just how much of a badass she truly is.
And even with all that going on, I’ve never seen her more at peace. She’s thrilled to be fully back at work on Yosemite Ranch, just as the weather is beginning to break.
And marriage suits us, if I do say so myself. It’s a lot like how we’ve always been with each other, before Las Vegas, except that now we live together and fuck like hamsters.
It’s win-win all the way, as far as I’m concerned.
“No bullshit here. I’m a straight arrow,” I tell her. “I shoot from the hip. I’m a no-nonsense guy. An upfront sort of fellow.”
She clears her throat and imitates me. “‘You’re doing wonderfully, but how about you take a break for a few minutes, stretch your arms, and I’ll take over for the rest of our short trip?’”
“Oh, that,” I say. “I see that as diplomacy rather than bullshit, due to the life-or-death gravity of the situation. No pun intended. But forgive me—unlike that bird, I have plenty to live for.”
“Whatever,” she says. “You’re forgiven. But can we go home now? I think I need a ginger ale.”
“I thought you were done with the airsickness.”
She clutches at her middle. “So did I, but I think we should probably land.”
“Maybe when you get a little better at your coordinated turns, you won’t feel it as much.”
“My coordinated turns are very coordinated,” she says.
“Roger that,” I say, because I’m not a complete idiot.
“Anyway,” Summer says. “Emma is making spaghetti tonight, and I want to get some before Special K eats it all.”
“So, you’re nauseated but want to eat spaghetti?”
She beams at me with a smile that melts my heart.
“What?” I ask. “What did I say?”
“That was snarky and insensitive, Declan. But it wasn’t bullshit, and I love you for that.”