It wasn’t until an hour later when there was a break in her traffic. I walked up, determined to be near her at least one last time.
“Major Jones,” was all she said. “How can I help you?”
Her words were formal, but her eyes brimmed with tears. “I need a dozen roses,” I said.
“Uh, what?” I think she expected a much more personal conversation, perhaps some mention of my circus-act the night prior. But Rachel told me to go get a dozen roses, and that’s what I focused on.
“I-I…it’s been a really busy day.”
“Yeah, payday. I saw the retirees wheeling out their cartons of cigarettes and gallons of tax-free vodka.”
She smiled through her tears and nodded. “A dozen?”
I waited until her eyes met mine. “Rachel asked me to get a dozen. She sent me.”
The tears flowed over, down her face, as everyone began to watch. “I’m sorry about last night, Hannah, but the thing is I love you. Not because a ghost told me to, not because I’m lonely, and not because I’m at rock bottom. Because I’m not – for the first time in forever, I’m not. I love you and want to spend the rest of my life with you.”
A hard sniffle, the back of her hand across her nose, and a glance around at the gathering crowd, and she said words that were unexpected. I was hoping for, “I love you, too.” I was expecting, “Go to hell, Jonah.” What I got was purely my Hannah.
“I don’t have a dozen left.”
“Well,” I said. “I guess I’ll have to wait.”
“I can’t just…I mean they take time. I have maybe two left.” She glanced toward her materials and back to me.
“Like I said, I guess I’ll have to wait.”
“Oh, um, I could probably have them for you in a week or so…” She was confused, but I wasn’t. I knew exactly what I was doing.
“Hannah, I’ll wait with you for those twelve roses. And then, I’ll wait for twelve more, and twelve more. I can’t lose you again.”
Another massive sniff and more tears before she reached for me. And then, finally, after everything, she said those magic words. “I love you, too, Jonah. Yes.”
6
The next morning, in her arms, I didn’t care about anything but us. At last, she was mine.
Her index finger snaked across the tattoo on my chest. “Why the wings? I’ve always been curious.”
“The last time they tried to take them, I decided to have them made permanent. They’ll never take these.”
“No one’s taking your wings, Jonah.”
“Danno will get it done, finally. My record is shit.”
“But you’re good! I heard the guys
in the bar talking. One of them said you were the best he’d ever flown with.”
“It’s not about that anymore. I’m old-school. Now days they want guys who fall in line and are perpetually politically correct. Even before my downward spiral after Rachel died, I didn’t color between the lines. They want yes-men and any reason to toss me; he will get it done. Last night I gave him the fuel.”
“Trust me on this one,” she said, her fingers reaching for me, bringing me to life again as she always did.
I was two hours past my show time that next morning. And, of course, the first person I see is my commander.
“Oh hey, Whaler, sorry about all the commotion. Do you think you could lead that four ship at thirteen hundred? The boys from Hill are out, and Razor is out sick with a case of the shits.”
“Uh, what, bro?” Commotion? I was still flying?