Chapter Seventeen

Caroline

Not only has he broken my heart, he’s cut me off from the rest of the world. Rather, all of the men in Bronze Bay. Shirley tried to get me a date with Buddy from the furniture store. Someone to pop my cherry and move on from the Tahoe sized hole in my chest, but he refused a date. So did Nathan from the body shop, Trey from the Bait and Tackle, and Rhett, the attorney in town. She opens her arms and talks loudly. “They all said you were Tahoe’s property!” she exclaims.

I’m so furious, I’m crying. “How dare he!” I roar. The tears of frustration turn into sadness because as angry as I am, I’m also relieved.

I don’t want Buddy. Or Nathan, or Trey, or Rhett. Not at all. Not even one tiny bit. I only want one man and that is absolutely infuriating. “He’s already ruined everything with our relationship, but now he’s all best buds with Bronze Bay residents.”

“Caleb,” Shirley says, ignoring my screams. “He would have sex with you.”

I scoff. “You have sex with Caleb,” I say, my mouth hanging open. “Are you out of your mind?” Leaning back in my desk chair, my friend perches at the edge of my desk, scrolling through her cell phone. “Are they back from New York yet?” I ask.

Shirley shakes her head. “I think they get home tomorrow or the next day though. I remember Aidan saying it should take a few weeks or so. I can’t believe you didn’t go to NYC without him. You don’t need him to travel.”

She’s right. The thought did cross my mind. “What if I ran into him? I don’t know where I’m going. As independent as I like to think I am, I’d need someone who knew where they’re going.”

“Hello! Take me. We could figure it out ourselves together. Let’s finish planning your house warming with Malena and then we’ll go to New York. We’ll find men and have a lot of sex! That dude can’t have reach up that far. There will be a man willing to take your virginity in the city. I’ve heard about these apps you use to find dates,” Shirley explains, air quoting the last word. “You upload your picture and look at theirs and decide if you want to bang it out.”

“You act like I’m a pariah and can’t find anyone for myself,” I exclaim. “I agree we should take a trip. Not to go man hunting, though. There’s so much I want to see and do there.”

Her thumb hovers over her cell. “Are you sure about Caleb though? You could be done with this tonight. He’s really good at it, and everyone knows he holds a torch for you. I bet he’d be gentle and loving.”

“Should I puke on your lap or hold it in my mouth? I’m a grown woman. I refuse to share a man with my best friend. Why do you sleep with him if you know he holds a torch for me?”

She widens her eyes like I’m daft. “I just said, he’s really good at it, Caroline.”

“That’s all it is then? Just sex for you? Has it ever been something more?” Merely kissing Tahoe electrifies my body. I thought that was normal. When his hands are on me, I forget planet earth exists. It’s beyond a craving. The longing didn’t disappear when his love did. There’s no way I’d have that kind of luck. I dream about him touching me. Holding me. Kissing me. The dreams feel surreal and I always wake with frustration that morphs into sadness.

“Well, I guess it’s for the company. I’m not like you. I’m not happy in a spinster tower all by myself with only airplanes on my brain. I like having someone to talk to.”

“Why not a boyfriend, then?”

She hops down and dusts her palms on the sides of her jeans. “Too much work. I never said I want to be tied down.”

I sort a stack of paperwork on the desk, completely distracted by my thoughts and tell Shirley to call Malena to finish the party planning. That’s one good thing I have learned about a break up. Your friends feel bad for you so you can ask for things without having to reciprocate. I may have underestimated that facet in the past. She agrees, tells me she might have Caleb keep her company tonight and leaves the office. By the time I finish paying bills and returning emails I’m enraged with the thoughts racing back through my mind. How Tahoe barged in and took exactly what he wanted when he wanted it. He punched me where it hurt. My hometown. My life. The Homer property. Crick’s Beach. Hangar five. My heart. I’m not sure which is more complicated. Losing yourself to a man or finding yourself because of one.

I’ve put on a good front for my parents, only telling them tiny bits of truth when asked point blank, but mamas always see the things we try to hide. She handed me half a pie, pulled out two forks and demanded to talk about airplanes. Using my love of airplanes as a distraction technique is one thing, but I know she hears more about aircrafts from my father so it clued me in to her intuition. She never did ask what happened between us. Maybe her super powers extend to that too and she already knows.

I make a visit to one of the hangars on the property that we do the large projects in. It has extra space for builds and rebuilds. It was decked to the nines for my high school graduation party, lights strung across the ceiling like wild stars in the sky. One Christmas long ago my daddy built a dollhouse in here. He thought he could hide it from me in the remote back corner, but even then I wanted to be exactly like him. I followed him, quiet as a field mouse, and snuck in behind him to find the glorious present. It was the last year I believed in Santa Claus. And the first year I realized just how much he loved me.

Sitting in a dusty wooden chair, I try to erase my current pain with happy memories of the past. It works for a little while, and no one would ever look for me here, but the loneliness gnaws at me. That might be the worst part of almost having something spectacular. Being a part of something. Having someone to share everything with. Never feeling alone even when you are. The worth in that is something no one appreciates until you’ve tasted it for yourself. And then lost it. When the nostalgia wears off and Tahoe fills all of my senses, I grab my bag and run to the closest aircraft. I need to fly. Get into the air—among the clouds. The technical aspect forces me to dwell on things that are easy for me. Gauges, wind speeds, and things that are second nature. It doesn’t take me long to maneuver onto the wide runway and get the plane in the air. It might even be a record. I’m too upset to check. My mind is fixated on one thing: rewind and erase. Like those old VHS tapes you could record shows on. One accidental move and you’d clear the whole thing without the ability to recover. I’m begging whoever will listen for that accidental move.

Some might call what I’m doing running away. I always come back. The thought of leaving for good crosses my mind every time I reach the furthest peak of a short fly. It’s almost as if I can feel my borders and boundaries even if I don’t truly have any. He pressed me forward. Challenged me to look at things in a way I never considered. Nothing holds me back except myself.

It happens then. The stark realization of my inadequacy in checking and double checking everything. The clouds wrapping my airplane are a sinister hue, the wind a foe of the worst possible caliber. The sun, my only friend at the moment, even looks wrong. My stomach turns and flips as emergency procedures trickle into my awareness. It happened so quickly.

Then again, that’s how all disasters happen, isn’t it? I prayed for an accident, now I better start praying I live through it.