Page 91 of The Leaves In Autumn
He comes from the side yard, tucking in a white, perfectly tailored shirt. God, he’s ... Stop. He’s handsome. That’s what I meant. The one-story sand colored Contemporary is good background. He lets its lines take center stage. Modern lights are the most dramatic exterior accessories.
Parking in the driveway, I pop the trunk, and Aargon takes out my overnighter.
“Happy birthday, birthday girl.”
“I was expecting balloons. This is much more interesting. I’m intrigued.”
He leans in for a friendly cheek kiss.
“I notice someone has joined the party.”
“You mean Beyoncé?”
“I take it it’s her birthday too?”
“Yes. September first. Funny thing. When we were talking about what a coincidence it was, we bonded. She offered their private jet in case we wanted to really celebrate.”
“How generous of her.”
“She’s like that. Shall we board?”
“Let’s do it.”
I’ll play along. He leads the way to the kid’s plane. A bright blue piece of plastic with glued wings.
There are two tiny seats for three-year-old small asses.
“As you can see, it’s all first class. You pick where you’d like to sit.”
“We’re actually getting in here?”
“How else will we get there? Here, let me help.”
He takes my bag and purse to the side steps, then reaches for my hand. Gathering my skirt, I try to negotiate the limited spaces where my feet, legs, and body will fit.
“Please don’t be looking at my ass.”
No! I am so used to talking like that with him. It slipped out.
“Your call.”
Change the subject. Change the subject.
“How areyougoing to get in this?” I say, nodding to the plane.
“I practiced this morning.”
Sitting, practically in a fetal position, I find the pedals. His side has them too. Knees are at my chest, a giant inside a tin cup.
“Comfortable?”
“It’s practically sinful how much space there is. Will it be a long flight?”
“Just twelve hours or so.”
He makes moves like he is climbing inside. No way.
“You’re going to break something.”
