Jolene turned away, looked out the window, watching the gray landscape blur past her. Now and then Michael tried to begin a conversation, but she didn’t bother to answer, and soon he gave up.
All she could think about was Tami. Her friend should be in the car now, cranking the music up, saying, Hey, flygirl, Prince or Madonna today?
When they drove up to the guard post, Jolene felt a sharp stab of emotion—longing, disappointment, loss.
So much of her life had been spent here. With Tami beside her, always.
They parked in front of the hangar. Jolene steeled herself. It would be a tough day—and not just because hours on the temporary prosthesis came at a price. She climbed out of the SUV and stood there, both feet firmly planted, waiting for Seth.
Michael said, “Lulu has to go to the bathroom. ”
Jolene nodded. “It’s in that building right there. First door on the left. We’ll meet you back at the car. It … won’t take long. ”
Michael leaned forward, kissed her lightly on the cheek, whispered, “You got this, Jo. ”
She shivered at the touch of his lips.
“I’ll go with Mom and Seth,” Betsy said quietly.
Seth looked at her. “Really?”
She gave him a shy smile. “Really. ”
Jolene moved closer to Seth, placed a hand on his thin shoulder. “You ready?”
“I don’t know,” he said.
“Yeah, well that makes two of us. ”
Jolene led the way to the hangar. The last time she’d been here, she’d been deploying …
As they crossed the threshold, moving into the giant space full of helicopters and cargo planes and people in uniform moving from place to place, Jolene stopped.
She didn’t mean to. She just saw the Black Hawk and couldn’t move.
My turn to fly. It’s right seat for you today, no arguing.
“Jolene?”
She looked down at the boy beside her, seeing how pale and sad he looked, and she forgot about her own loss for a minute. You make sure he knows who I was. “She loved to fly,” she said quietly. “She would want you to know that. She loved to fly, but … you … you were her whole life, Seth. She would have done anything she could to get back to you. ” She forced a smile. “And she sang off-key. Did you know that? I swear, dogs joined in when she sang. ”
Tears brightened his eyes.
Jolene stared up at the helicopter, with its open door and back bay cluttered with straps and metal boxes. She let go of Seth’s hand and walked forward. She didn’t mean to, didn’t really think about it; she just moved forward and stared up at the cockpit.
Her residual limb ached, as if in reminder.
“Can you still fly?” Seth asked, coming up beside her.
“Not a Black Hawk,” she said, and for a split second, she remembered all of it—flight school, Tami, flying into the blue, looking down on the trees in bloom. “I loved it, though,” she said, more to herself than to Seth.
How long did she stand there, staring up at her past, grieving for both the loss of her leg and the loss of her friend and the end of an era?
“You’ll never be able to fly again?” Betsy asked, sounding surprised.
Jolene couldn’t answer.
“My mom would say you can do anything,” Seth said.