“Fair enough.”
We both paused to let the tension dissipate.
“You and Christy can figure out what works for you,” he said in a more fatherly tone. “That is where you’re going with her, isn’t it? Why you wanted us to meet her parents?”
“That’s part of it,” I admitted.
“Good. We like her.” He thought of something and chuckled darkly. “And if you have kids, one day you’ll have a discussion like this with your own son. I just hope you aren’t hungover and feeling a little guilty when you do.”
“Guilty?” I asked. “About last night? Mom knows, right?”
“She does. I’m not feeling guilty about that. It’s hard to explain, but one day you’ll understand. You’ll know what it feels like when your kid realizes you’re human after all.”
“That isn’t what I meant.”
“I know,” he said. “But that doesn’t change what just happened, does it?”
“No, I guess not.”
“In a way, I’m relieved. So, I’m only human now?” He shrugged. “I can live with that. I was before. And I’m not alone. All your idols have clay feet. Welcome to being a grown-up. Sucks, don’t it?”
“Nah. It isn’t so bad. Yeah, sure, it comes with a certain disillusionment—my father’s a man instead of a superman—but the rest is worth it.”
“Now you sound like your mom,” he said. “She was always too smart for me.”
“Is that why you married her?”
He snorted. “I married her because I loved her. And it was the right thing to do… in lots of ways.”
“You can say that again.”
“I married her because I loved her. And it—”
“Okay! I know where I get my goofy sense of humor.”
“Guilty as charged,” he said. Then he glanced at his watch. “Now, if you don’t mind, I need to catch some shut-eye. I’m not as young as you are. I can’t stay up all night and then run all day. When’re you leaving?”
“A little after noon.”
“I’ll be up before you go. Now… are we good?”
“We’re good.”
“I’m glad. I love you, son.”
“I love you too, Dad.”
* * *
My father joined Christy and me in the kitchen about twenty minutes before we needed to leave for the airport. He’d showered and shaved, and he wore shorts and a Hawaiian shirt, his usual weekend outfit. He still looked tired, but better than when I’d seen him at six thirty.
“Want me to drive you?” he offered. “I don’t mind. I need to stop by Operations anyway.”
My eyebrows rose with a question.
“To pick up my bid packet. And to talk to a pilot friend, an instructor.” He read my polite skepticism. “Seriously? All right, I’m thinking about transitioning to the 767 instead of the L-1011.”
“Sounds g—”
“But wait, there’s more. We’re about to start flying the 757, and the flight deck is similar to the ’67. So I’ll be able to fly either without retraining. New plane, new lines, new opportunities,” he finished. “Now do you believe me?”
“I believed you before,” I fibbed. “But it sounds like a lot of new stuff. Can an old dog learn new tricks?”
“I’m not that old. Besides, the old tricks still get results.”
“Are we still talking about flying?”
“You tell me. Now come on, let’s get a move on.” He grabbed his car keys and glanced at our luggage. “All that? For… what? Two days?”
“It’s my fault,” Christy said immediately.
“Dress clothes,” I explained. “We have another graduation.”
“Yeah, I know,” he said. “I’m just giving you a hard time. Payback for the age crack.” He looked at the suitcase and garment bag. “I think they’ll fit in the back. Christy’ll have to sit in your lap, though.” He grinned. “You can talk about the first thing that comes up.”
“I see where you get it,” Christy said to me.
“What?” Dad asked.
“His delightful sense of humor.”
“Yeah, I’m the charming one. His mother’s the smart one.”
“One outta two ain’t bad,” I said under my breath.
Christy frowned. Be nice.
“What was that?” Dad said.
“Your hearing is starting to go.”
“What?”
I raised my voice. “I said… Your hearing is— Oh, very funny.”
“Gotcha.” He winked at Christy. “Come on, let’s blow this popsicle stand.”
* * *
The flight attendants were wrapping up the preflight briefing when Christy suddenly stiffened. She stared intently at the attendant in the aisle a few rows ahead of us. She was a pretty blonde, tall and svelte. She was a little too made-up for my taste, and nothing about her stood out as something that Christy might find attractive.
“What’s the matter?” I asked her in a low voice.
“Did she just say, ‘on behalf of the pilots and crew’?”
“I think so. Why?”
“Nothing,” she lied.
“No, tell me.”
“Yesterday. You asked if your dad was meeting ‘a friend from the crew.’ You didn’t say ‘a pilot friend.’ You’re very precise. With your words.” She thought back, and her eyes widened. “Oh my gosh! He was meeting a stewardess, wasn’t he? Flight attendant. Whatever. You know what I mean. But… he had a date!”
I chuckled. “I’m surprised you figured it out.”
“Surprised? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing. I just didn’t think it was obvious.”
“Of course it was! His clothes, his attitude, his aftershave! And… he didn’t come home last night. I heard him this morning after you left for your run.”
“I thought you were asleep.”
“Paul, dear, I always wake up when you leave.”
“Always?”
“Always. I can’t help it. But you’re trying to change the subject. I’m right, aren’t I? He had a date.”
I nodded. “Does that bother you?”
“Not me. What about your mother?”
“She knows,” I said with more confidence than I actually felt.
“Are you sure?”
“She knows in general. Besides, think about where she is.”
“Oh. I suppose you’re right.”
“Mmm hmm. What’s good for the goose…”
“…is good for the gander.” Her brows knitted. “I… don’t want to be like that. Don’t want us to be like that, I mean.”
“Okay,” I said slowly.
“I don’t mind if you…” She glanced around at the other passengers. “You know,” she finished in a guarded tone. “I’m fine if I know what you’re doing. Like with Terri. But… promise me we’ll never be like that, where I go off with my ‘friend’ and you do whatever you like with your own… um… ‘friends.’ I know that doesn’t make sense, but—”
“No, I think I got it,” I chuckled.
“This isn’t funny,” she said. “It’s serious. I don’t want to end up like Wren’s parents. I don’t want to be like yours, either. Or mine, for that matter.”
“How ’bout we do what we want. You know, figure it out for ourselves.”
“Fine, Mr. Flippant. This is all so easy for you.”
“Yeah, you’re right. I’m sorry. And for the record, this isn’t easy for me. I’m having to figure it out as I go… just like you are.”
“I’m glad,” she said, part serious, part resentful. “I hate feeling like I’m the only one who doesn’t know what I’m doing.”
“No, there are two of us in this relationship.”
“Are there?”
“Of course!”
“No, two of us who don’t know what we’re doing. That’s what I meant.”
“Oh, thank God,” I said with genuine relief.
“I do. Every day. And… I know I should feel guilty, but I’m glad you don’t know what you’re doing either. I don’t mind figuring things out together, but I get scared when I think you’re going to leave me if I don’t do it quick enough.”
“No, never. I’m pretty patient, especially where you’re concerned.”