Page 6 of Dear Alaskan Bush Pilot
"Jack, I was wondering," I pause for a moment and take in a breath. "Is there any chance that you would like to go on a picnic with me this afternoon?"
JACK
If I wasn’t looking at her when she asked me, I’m not sure I would have believed she said it. I would have chalked it up to another fantasy about Emery playing out in my head. I can't lie. The scenario of her dragging me back to this very room to have her way with me has played out in my mind a hundred times.
"Do you want to go?" she asks, and I realize that I haven't answered her, despite my dick screaming for me to say yes!
“Yeah, a picnic sounds nice.”
Her shoulders sag with relief, and I can't believe that she was at all worried that I would say no to her offer. I would have asked her out a long time ago if I hadn't been told that she doesn't date pilots.
“Great, I can head home and put something together real quick.”
“Okay, I’ll call Spence to cover my afternoon flights for me.”
There's a glow about Emery that I haven't seen in a long time. I saw it briefly when we found the letter, but it faded when the woman said she didn't want to pursue looking for the man she had sent the letter to. I like the idea that I've somehow brought that light back into her.
The door to the breakroom opens, and Thayer pops his head in. "Emery, there's a woman here to see you."
“I’m off the clock,” she says without looking away from me.
“Yeah, I told her that, but she said that you called and told her you have something of hers.”
Emery gives me a confused look, and we both turn to look at Thayer.
“What did she say I called about?”
“A letter.”
Emery's eyes are as wide as saucers when she looks back at me.
“She changed her mind.”
I nod in surprise. “Sounds like it.”
I follow Emery out to the lobby. Thayer leads the group of students out the door towards the runway, giving his speech on safety as he goes.
A small woman with shoulder-length black hair is sitting in one of the plastic chairs that line the front windows. Her back is ramrod straight with her hands clutching the purse in her lap like someone is about to try and steal it from her.
“Jera?” Emery asks.
The woman turns and stands up. “Yes. Are you the young woman I spoke to on the phone a few days ago?”
“Yes, ma’am. I’m Emery.” She points to herself and then points to me. “And this is Jack. He’s the one that actually found the letter.”
If Jera were a cartoon, she'd be drawn with little wavy lines coming off her to show her shaking. The nervous energy radiating off her would be enough to power this whole airport.
"I've had some time to think about the situation, and despite my initial reaction, I'd like to see Patrick. Were you able to locate him?"
Emery looks at me for guidance, but I'm not sure what the protocol is in a situation like this.
“We were, I mean Jack did, but yes.” Emery stammers.
I reach out and take her hand in mine and give it a gentle squeeze. The muscles in her shoulders loosen, and she takes in a calming breath.
“How soon can you take me to see him?”
“We can go right now,” Emery answers before I can stop her.
