his thoughts turned to Alison and their wedding.
She’d been like a vision standing in the small moonlit chapel wearing her prom dress, a pale blue, silky, off-the-shoulder gown with a thigh-high slit. But it had been the love in her eyes that had totally hypnotized him.
When he’d married her, he’d thought it would be forever, just as he’d thought he would be in the Air Force forever. He’d imagined going overseas for a while, then maybe getting stationed in the States. Finally, after the kids came, he’d settle down and teach other recruits to fly. Maybe teach his own son to fly one day.
He stretched out his hands and stared at the scarred knuckles, trying to imagine them holding on to the controls again. But his pulse raced, sweat broke out on his brow and his hands began to tremble uncontrollably.
He couldn’t do it, couldn’t even think about climbing in the cockpit of a plane, much less getting behind the controls and actually flying. He closed his hands into fists, squeezing his eyes shut to banish the images of the explosion. But he could still see the fire licking at the cockpit, shooting from Josh’s clothes, blazing its trail of honor.
No, he’d lost more than his friend in the crash; Brady had lost his will to fly. He had watched all his dreams go up in smoke right along with Josh.
* * *
“Alison, this is Thomas. Can I come over?”
Alison adjusted the phone to her ear as she stared at the hope chest. She’d brought it home and placed it in her bedroom, and had forced herself not to look at the contents again, but she knew what lay inside. The photo of her and Brady on their wedding day. “Not tonight, Thomas, I’m really tired.” And confused and worried about Brady, the man I’m still married to.
“Is everything all right? You sound kind of strange.”
“I’m fine. I just need some … space. Please try to understand.”
He hesitated, his usual cheery voice resonating with hurt when he spoke again. “All right. I didn’t mean to bother you.”
“You didn’t, it’s just … I have a lot to think about right now.” Alison closed her eyes and sighed, feeling guilty for hurting him. But she had to be fair to him and to herself, and leading him on certainly wouldn’t be fair.
“Will you call me when you’re ready to talk?”
“Yes, Thomas, and … thanks for being so understanding. You really are wonderful.”
“So are you, Ali. I’m looking forward to seeing you again.”
She hung up, unable to shake the feeling of impending doom she’d had all day. While she’d worked on the arrangements for Vivica’s wedding, she’d had visions of making wedding plans for herself.
Only Thomas’s face hadn’t appeared in her visions, Brady’s had.
What if she was making a mistake? Letting Thomas go when the only thing left between her and Brady were memories? Was she hoping they might rekindle their love when the embers had died out and been buried in the dust years ago?
Feeling agitated, she went to her wicker desk and pulled out the box of letters Brady had written her. She’d saved every one from college and from his days in flight training. Lying back on her duvet, she turned on the Tiffany lamp her grandmother had given her for her sixteenth birthday, removed the first letter from the rubber band and opened it.
Dear Alison,
It’s midnight here and every part of my body hurts, but I couldn’t sleep without writing you about the first day. The training was ten times rougher than football practice. We got up before dawn, worked out like crazy, then ran ten miles with our packs on, all before breakfast. The cots are hard, the lieutenant is a first-class psycho (he made the guy in the bunk next to me do a hundred push-ups just because his damn sheets weren’t tucked in right), and the food stinks, but I saw one of the planes today and my heart just about exploded in my chest. I keep telling myself it’ll all be worth it. One day I’ll be able to fly a fighter jet
She’d been like a vision standing in the small moonlit chapel wearing her prom dress, a pale blue, silky, off-the-shoulder gown with a thigh-high slit. But it had been the love in her eyes that had totally hypnotized him.
When he’d married her, he’d thought it would be forever, just as he’d thought he would be in the Air Force forever. He’d imagined going overseas for a while, then maybe getting stationed in the States. Finally, after the kids came, he’d settle down and teach other recruits to fly. Maybe teach his own son to fly one day.
He stretched out his hands and stared at the scarred knuckles, trying to imagine them holding on to the controls again. But his pulse raced, sweat broke out on his brow and his hands began to tremble uncontrollably.
He couldn’t do it, couldn’t even think about climbing in the cockpit of a plane, much less getting behind the controls and actually flying. He closed his hands into fists, squeezing his eyes shut to banish the images of the explosion. But he could still see the fire licking at the cockpit, shooting from Josh’s clothes, blazing its trail of honor.
No, he’d lost more than his friend in the crash; Brady had lost his will to fly. He had watched all his dreams go up in smoke right along with Josh.
* * *
“Alison, this is Thomas. Can I come over?”
Alison adjusted the phone to her ear as she stared at the hope chest. She’d brought it home and placed it in her bedroom, and had forced herself not to look at the contents again, but she knew what lay inside. The photo of her and Brady on their wedding day. “Not tonight, Thomas, I’m really tired.” And confused and worried about Brady, the man I’m still married to.
“Is everything all right? You sound kind of strange.”
“I’m fine. I just need some … space. Please try to understand.”
He hesitated, his usual cheery voice resonating with hurt when he spoke again. “All right. I didn’t mean to bother you.”
“You didn’t, it’s just … I have a lot to think about right now.” Alison closed her eyes and sighed, feeling guilty for hurting him. But she had to be fair to him and to herself, and leading him on certainly wouldn’t be fair.
“Will you call me when you’re ready to talk?”
“Yes, Thomas, and … thanks for being so understanding. You really are wonderful.”
“So are you, Ali. I’m looking forward to seeing you again.”
She hung up, unable to shake the feeling of impending doom she’d had all day. While she’d worked on the arrangements for Vivica’s wedding, she’d had visions of making wedding plans for herself.
Only Thomas’s face hadn’t appeared in her visions, Brady’s had.
What if she was making a mistake? Letting Thomas go when the only thing left between her and Brady were memories? Was she hoping they might rekindle their love when the embers had died out and been buried in the dust years ago?
Feeling agitated, she went to her wicker desk and pulled out the box of letters Brady had written her. She’d saved every one from college and from his days in flight training. Lying back on her duvet, she turned on the Tiffany lamp her grandmother had given her for her sixteenth birthday, removed the first letter from the rubber band and opened it.
Dear Alison,
It’s midnight here and every part of my body hurts, but I couldn’t sleep without writing you about the first day. The training was ten times rougher than football practice. We got up before dawn, worked out like crazy, then ran ten miles with our packs on, all before breakfast. The cots are hard, the lieutenant is a first-class psycho (he made the guy in the bunk next to me do a hundred push-ups just because his damn sheets weren’t tucked in right), and the food stinks, but I saw one of the planes today and my heart just about exploded in my chest. I keep telling myself it’ll all be worth it. One day I’ll be able to fly a fighter jet
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