He turned to look at the Hall Aviation hangar. I followed his gaze. The red Piper was parked there, and Grayson walked toward us across the tarmac, carrying boxes.
“You think they’re going to stick around?” Mr. Simon asked me.
“I do,” I said, “at least for the summer. Next year I don’t know what I’ll be doing. Maybe you and I can talk again then.”
“Fair enough.” We both stood. He shook my hand again, this time covering it with his other hand. He looked straight into my eyes with watery blue eyes and said, “I do thank you.” He ambled off the porch and headed for the huge crop-duster hangar at the opposite end of the airport.
Grayson sat down in Mr. Simon’s chair, then set what he was carrying on the floor of the porch beside him: two eco-friendly recycled paper containers from Molly’s parents’ café, and an eco-friendly drink cup.
I could tell he had something important to say. Just as on the first day we’d talked here on the porch, I could feel the weight of it around us in the hot, humid air.
He stood and held out his hands to me. He tugged me up to standing. Wrapping his arms around me, he pulled me close for a long hug.
Slowly I relaxed. Despite a couple of hours in bed, staring at the ceiling of the trailer, I hadn’t known how tense my muscles still were from the crash until I melted, boneless, into Grayson’s embrace.
He relaxed too, his tight hug fading into a shoulder massage. Finally he held me at arm’s length and looked into my eyes. At least, I thought he did. We were both wearing aviator shades. Despite the fact that I couldn’t see his eyes, this time I knew he was sincerely concerned as he asked, “Are you okay?” His voice broke. He cleared his throat.
“I’m fine,” I said. “Are you okay?”
“Now I am. It took me a while. I was getting worried about you, though, and I was just coming to look for you. Sit down.”
I didn’t want him treating me like an invalid when I wasn’t hurt at all. But he’d been through a lot that day, so I didn’t argue with him. I sat down.
He sat beside me. Frowned at me. Reached over, took my chair by both armrests, and dragged it closer to his own chair. “There.” He put his hand on my knee.
We both looked toward the far end of the runway as the orange Piper revved up its engines for takeoff. That must be why my knee was tingling, then—the vibration from the plane. I had thought at first it was Grayson’s touch. But after the plane left Earth and angled into the air, its engines fading into a tinny buzz, I still felt the vibration up my thigh from Grayson’s hand on my knee. Then he squeezed my knee though he still watched the plane, as if he wanted to make sure I was still there.
“Who’s flying?” I asked. “That’s my plane. I guess you did fire me. You replaced me already?”
He groaned. “What was I thinking? Please come back. The Admiral’s only flying for me the rest of the day.”
“The Admiral!” I exclaimed. “Grayson, he’s not going to tow banners for you, is he? You shouldn’t have asked him! I don’t care how good a pilot he is. If he hasn’t been taught how to do it, he’ll kill himself.”
Grayson squeezed my knee again, this time to reassure me. “He volunteered so I could make my contracts and you wouldn’t have to fly. This is how he learned to fly in the first place, back when he was a young damn fool idiot. That’s what he said.”
I laughed. “That sounds like your dad talking.”
“There’s a reason they were friends.” Grayson tapped his finger on my knee. “Don’t tell the Admiral’s wife, though. That was a condition of his employment. He said she would shit a brick.”
“Get him down and send me up. I was just headed over to the hangar to tell you I’m ready to fly.”
“No,” Grayson said. “I was just headed to your trailer to bring you breakfast and lunch.” He gestured to the boxes from the café.
“I’m fine.”
“No.”
“I want to fly.”
He pulled his hand off my knee. “Leah, no. You crash-landed an airplane this morning. I’m not sending you back up the same day. If you feel okay tomorrow, you can fly tomorrow and Sunday.”
“I need to get back on the horse now.” I said this lightly like I was kidding, but I meant it. I wasn’t scared. I knew what had happened that morning hadn’t been my fault. But I didn’t want to get scared because I’d waited too long and had too much time to think. “I’m embarrassed.”
“Of what?”
“Screaming.”
His left eyebrow lifted clear of his shades. “You think you should have crashed with more flair?”
“More composure.”
He smiled. “After I crashed the Piper last year, I went into the woods and threw up, as you know. I got over it. You’ll get over this too. You can get over it tomorrow. It would be irresponsible of me as your employer if I let you go back up today. End of discussion.” He sliced his hand across his neck.
I frowned at him and sliced my hand across my own neck. “We use that too much.”
“We need it,” he said. “Neither of us knows when to shut up.” He took both my hands in his. “You’re about to tell me to shut up. I have something to say to you, and something to ask you.”
“Okay.” I should have been used to Grayson planning things out, but years of knowing him died hard, and it seemed odd that he’d thought ahead to a confession, and a question.
He rubbed my hands with his thumbs, steeling himself.
“Wow!” I exclaimed. “What could be so awful, Grayson?” I took off my shades and set them in my lap, then reached forward and took off his shades.
His eyes surprised me as always, because I seldom saw them: his irises a strange light gray, his lashes blond and long. Usually when I’d seen his eyes, he’d narrowed them at me. Now they were big and worried, and he bit his lip.
“Tell me,” I said.
“I should have told you earlier, but I was busy blackmailing you. I have to tell you but I don’t want you to break up with me.”
“Tell me.” I didn’t want to know. It was too soon for us to be over. But I couldn’t stand being in the dark.
“My dad left you the Cessna.”
I gasped. “The Cessna?” The white four-seater that Mr. Hall had used to give lessons. The first plane I’d ever flown. “Why didn’t somebody tell me in the last two months?”