Page 4 of That First Flight

I swallow the lump in my throat. “What are you up to?”

“Uncle Sam is teaching me to use a bow and arrow. Our target is the deer grazing in the backyard. Then we’re gonna bring it to the shed and chop it up for dinner tomorrow.”

“He is not!”

She laughs. “Relax, Mom. We’re just watching a movie.”

I smile despite the fact that she can’t see me through the phone. “Okay.”

“It’s starting now. I’m going to go.”

“Okay, babe. I’ll see you in the morning. Make sure you go to bed when he tells you to.”

“Okay. Love you,” she says.

“Love you most,” I say back before I hang up.

I lean against the deep freezer door in the kitchen, and breathe out a sigh.

This wasn’t the life I dreamed of for us.

Then again, my life plans didn’t involve having a child at sixteen years old and trying to figure it out on my own. Ididn’t want to do it alone, but Ihadto figure it out on my own.

Mackenzie’s father has never been in the picture.

I was naive to believe that Brad, my high school sweetheart, was my soulmate. He was a year older than me, and I truly believed that he loved me at the time.

It wasn’t until the day those two pink lines showed up one morning and I told him that he was going to be a dad, that he confessed I was nothing but a decent lay for him. He wanted nothing to do with me or our daughter after that.

Once Mackenzie was born, I learned what true love felt like. Alone in the hospital, giving birth to the most perfect baby girl, I made a silent vow to myself that I would be the best damn mom I could be. One that she deserves. One that is nothing like my own.

My friends dropped me from their lives when I got pregnant and I’m betting my mom and dad wish they could too.

Needless to say, I’ve struggled a lot since she was born. I’ve hit rock bottom more times than I care to admit, and have thought things I’m scared to ever admit out loud. I lived with my parents through everything despite the hell they gave me for getting knocked up. They are the true definition of kicking you while you’re down.

The sound of a plate falling to the ground pulls me out of my bubble. I give myself the time to take three deep breaths, fix my apron and head out of the kitchen.

“I’m back,” I announce to Flora. “Thank you for that minute.”

“Anytime, sweets.”

“Is everyone served? Where have you left off?”

“That blonde hottie at the end of the bar just sat down.” She winks. “That's all you.”

“Stop that! You’re married!”

“I'm also older than dirt,” she scoffs. “But my eyes still work just fine to notice from afar the looks on that man down there.”

“You’re craz—” My words are cut short and my steps falter at the same time my stomach bottoms out. I’m pretty sure my jaw falls to the floor when they land on the man reading the menu.

Because I know this man.

A heartbeat passes before I’m transported back to when I met him.

It was when I was running away from my life to start a new one.

On my flight from Montana to New York.

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