Her Great Expectations (21 page)

He rubbed his hand over Sienna’s back. Speaking through the headphones, he asked, “Are you sure you want to do this?”

She sat up, pushing her hair back and adjusting her headphones over her ears. Her face was white, but she managed to smile and give him a thumbs-up. “I’m sure.”

Jack turned on the two-way radio and gave the control tower his call sign. “Whitney Boomerang XR6J, ready for takeoff. Over.”

“Permission to take off, XR6J. Over,” came the crackling reply.

Jack pushed on the joystick and the single-wing airplane taxied over the bumpy ground toward the runway. He glanced across at Sienna. Her eyes were scrunched shut, her body rigid and her nostrils flared with each breath. She had guts, he’d give her that.

Now he was at the end of the runway, engine thrumming, propeller whirring, fuselage vibrating. He was nervous, too, but the three years since he’d flown fell away and every detail of procedure came flooding back to him. Even so, he tamped down his excitement to ensure he didn’t miss a single step in the preflight routine. The movements of his hands on the controls, his feet on the rudder pedals, the alertness of his gaze—all his training and instincts were still there, solid.

He started slowly down the tarmac, straightened the plane out, then increased his speed. He glanced at the GPS. The coordinates of the airfield were showing correctly. So far, so good. The end of the runway approached in a rush. One eye on the tachometer, Jack increased the revs, tilted the elevator on the horizontal stabilizer…

And they were airborne.

The pressure in his chest lifted as the small plane climbed up, up, over the rolling hills and valleys, orchards and paddocks of the peninsula. Banking, he worked the rudder pedals and made a clean sweeping curve west toward the blue sparkling waters of Port Phillip Bay. The glass panels of the city high-rises fringing the bay glinted gold. White sand beaches were blue with shadow. The first pink streaks of the setting sun were etched across the gilded sky.

“Do you know you’re grinning from ear to ear?” Sienna asked.

Now that she’d mentioned it, he realized his face was sore from smiling. “Are you okay?”

Sienna’s fists were white-knuckled in her lap, but her eyes were open. “It’s a whole other world up here.”

He flew her high over beaches, low over a pod of leaping dolphins, inspected a dredger in the shipping channel, circled a cruise ship heading out to sea and buzzed a flotilla of sailing dinghies near the marina.

His flight path wasn’t as random as it probably appeared to Sienna. He’d filed it with the air traffic controller before leaving, and at every phase of the trip he checked and double-checked the route adherence monitor and GPS signals.

Now for the most important test of all. He switched off the satellite receiver on the GPS. The day of the crash it had started behaving like a simulator, masking the fault that had led to Leanne’s death.

“Did you see those pelicans!” Sienna exclaimed, her nose pressed to the window, gaping at the large ungainly birds flapping past at eye level.

“Shh.” Jack raised a hand.

“Sorry.” She mimed zipping her lips.

His gaze fixed on the GPS screen, he banked the plane and turned in the opposite direction to his prescribed flight path. He held his breath until his lungs were begging for oxygen.
Come on, come on…

Beep, beep, beep.
The tiny airplane on the GPS screen flashed on and off, alerting him to the fault. Letting his breath out in a gusty sigh of relief, he flicked the satellite receiver back on and reset the flight path.

“Is something wrong?” Sienna asked. “Not that I’m worried or anything.”

“Nothing’s wrong. In fact, everything’s terrific!” Jack laughed out loud. “The GPS is working perfectly. Hang on to your hat!” He tilted the nose of the plane straight up, and up…and over backward in a loop-the-loop that had Sienna screaming like a teenager on a roller coaster.

When they were flying level and steady again he expected to receive a blast for scaring her. Instead Sienna turned to him, her eyes huge and her hair a ruffle of red ringlets framing her face. “That was awesome!”

Jack laughed again, a full-throated eruption from deep in his gut. Sienna yanked off her headphones and held her ears. If he hadn’t been afraid she’d start screaming again he would have put the plane on autopilot and kissed her.

Instead he banked once more and circled above Summerside. An unexpected pride and fierce love for his little town tightened his chest as he pointed out the various landmarks to Sienna. There was the beach where she’d kayaked out to meet him, the cliff-top road they’d jogged along. A little farther inland Sienna’s tiled roof was just visible below the treetops. There was the creek that ran behind Lexie’s studio, and the village commercial district with the clinic, the greengrocer, Renita’s bank and a host of other shops and restaurants. Five blocks east was the high school where they’d played trivia. To the south, past another winding creek, were the corrugated metal rooftops of Jack’s house and the Men’s Shed next door.

Sienna sniffled and her eyes were shining. “I love this place.”

He smiled, his heart full.
I love you.

Then there were more paddocks and roads and trees and a glimpse of Western Port Bay on the other side of the peninsula. A deep sense of contentment filled Jack as he guided the little aircraft home to the airfield. And when the wheels touched down on the runway, he had to take a few deep breaths to control his emotions.

He had his life back.

He taxied back to the hangar and parked the aircraft. Shutting down the engine, he unstrapped himself and climbed out, telling Sienna to wait there. Going around the plane, he opened the door for her and helped her down. She swung into his arms and for a moment he held her in a wordless embrace.

Correction. He had a
new
life. Thanks to his red-haired Venus de Milo. He could see turbulence ahead, and at times it would be a bumpy ride because they didn’t always agree. But that was okay. They were both in it for the long haul.

“Come on, love,” he said. “Let’s go home.”

HER GREAT EXPECTATIONS

Copyright © 2011 by Joan Kilby

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