Page 2 of Dear Alaskan Bush Pilot
"Afternoon, ladies," Jack says with a smile aimed at the two of us. His dimple makes another appearance, and my panties are done for.
“Hey Jack,” Aurora says. “Are you my pilot to Fairbanks?”
“Yes, Miss Aurora.” Jack pulls his flight log binder from the shelf and makes the necessary notes inside it. "I will be your chauffeur today to meet your next great love."
Most of the pilots here at Brooks Alaskan Air have taken Aurora, at least once, to meet some new guy that she swears is her next great love. I think a few of them wouldn’t mind getting Aurora’s attention for themselves, but when you live in such a small village, the idea of a mysterious new stranger seems so much more appealing. At least that’s what Aurora told me. I’m quite content with loving my handsome bush pilot from afar, waiting for the day he will notice me.
“Em, are these yours?” Jack kneels next to my stool and grabs the papers that blew off when Aurora came in.
"Yes, thank you," I say, my voice wavering a bit when my fingers brush over Jack's as he hands them over to me.
"You almost lost this letter," he says, handing me a dingy, almost yellowing envelope. But before I can tell him that it's not mine, he turns to Aurora. "If you want to head out to the plane. I'll be there in just a moment. I have to go grab my dinner from the fridge."
“I know the drill,” Aurora calls after him, making him chuckle. She waits for the door to close before she says, “You have until I get back to make something happen with him, or I will sign you up on some dating sites myself. I can’t take watching you pine for him anymore.”
“I’m not ready.”
"Well, you bettergetready. You are going to miss your window to find love if you don’t act soon.”
Aurora's words echo in my head long after she's gone. I've spent so much time wishing for a future with Jack that I'm missing out on my present and all the possibilities that it could bring.
Until this moment, I never thought about a future that didn't involve Jack. And I feel a sharp pain in my chest when my mind replays the wedding fantasy that I've dreamt about so many times, but Jack isn't standing at the end of the aisle waiting for me. It's another man, but I can't see his face.
I shake my head, wanting to erase that thought. And for the first time since he handed it to me, I notice the old letter that Jack thought was mine.
I pick it up and turn it over in my hands. The ink on the front of the envelope is faded, but I can still read the beautiful cursive script. The postmark in the corner reads May 16, 1984.
“What the heck?” I ask out loud. I look around the lobby like I’m going to find some kind of answer as to why this letter was never delivered.
So many letters and packages come through this airport, but somehow this letter never made it to the addressee—Patrick Wilcox. That name sounds familiar, but I can't think of how I've heard it. The seal on the letter is barely holding tight after all these years, and the temptation to open it and read the contents has my finger tracing the edge of the flap. It would be so easy to tear it open.
2
JACK
I love the extra sunlight that comes with the warmer summer days. More opportunities for flights so I can make and save my money. I hope to save enough to get my own plane and start my own business. Don’t get me wrong, working for Brooks Alaskan Air has been great, but I want to be my own boss, with the freedom to fly whenever and wherever I want.
As I approach the runway to the airport in Frontier, I think about Emery and how I've barely had a chance to see her. I haven't admitted it out loud, but Emery is a big reason I've stuck around so long in Frontier. My boss, Thayer Brooks, has been pushing for me to move up to the Barrow hub and take over operations up there. It would mean a promotion with a pay increase, but I'd hardly ever see Emery if I did.
She's always on my mind, even if there are hundreds of miles between us. I've been interested in her since I made the move up here from the Lower Forty-Eight, but I never made a move because Sergei told me that he heard that she doesn't date pilots. Figures, the one cool thing about me, and it's the whole reason she'd never give me the time of day. Although sometimes, I swear I see a spark of interest in her eyes when she's looking at me, but I've chalked it up to wishful thinking.
I make a smooth landing onto the runway and taxi the plane into its spot behind the airport. I head inside but stop dead in my tracks when I see Emery in the same place I left her, but she has her face in her hands, and it sounds like she is crying. A protective need surges through me, and I run over to her.
"Emery, are you okay?" I ask, trying to tamp down the sound of emotion in my voice.
She looks up with red eyes and tear-stained cheeks and shakes her head no. I scan over her, looking for some sign to explain why she is crying, but she seems unhurt. All I see is a piece of paper in her hand.
“Why are you crying?”
She hands me the paper and says something unintelligible before the tears start to flow again. I take the sheet and look down at it. It’s a letter.
Dear Patrick,
I know it’s been a while since we last spoke, but I needed to write this letter to you. I’m getting married in three days and what I want to say to you can’t wait any longer. There was a time that I never imaged I’d be walking down the aisle and not have you standing at the alter waiting for me. But here I am, engaged to a man I barely know, with only thoughts of you and what we shared together. I know what my father said about our relationship, but I don’t care. He may not think we are right for one another, but I know in my heart that you are the only man for me. We walked away from one another because we let others tell us that our love isn’t worth fighting for, and I know that we will have our up and downs, but they will all be worth it if I have you by my side. I’m sending this letter because I don't know if I'm brave enough to say them to you if you don't still feel the same way. Come get me. We can run off together. My bag is packed.
Sincerely Yours,
Jera
