No freedom comes without a price, people would say of the pilot’s honorable end. The adage was far more palatable when those sacrificed were distant strangers.
Vivian reached past the basket and laid a hand on Gene’s arm. He didn’t grasp her fingers, didn’t glance her way, but somehow the gesture felt welcome.
Once at her brownstone, she slowly drew back. Gene exited the truck and opened her side. “Thanks for your help today,” he said, guiding her out.
“It was my pleasure.” And she meant that, in more ways than anticipated. “Well, then ... good night.”
At the absence of a response, she departed for the stoop stairs. She was halfway to the door when he called to her.
“You—have any plans tomorrow?”
She twisted around. Tomorrow would be Sunday. No work, no roommate. But she caught herself before answering. “That would depend.”
He cocked his head a little.
“Is this for some other project? Because if it is, I’d like to negotiate a rate up front.”
The corners of his lips tugged into a smile. He shoved his hands into his front pockets and said, “I just thought, our trade-it didn’t seem quite even. Figured I owe you a decent lunch at least.”
Lunch, her mother would say, did not constitute an official date. All the same, heat rose to Vivian’s cheeks, hopefully concealed in the dimness between street lamps. “Let me guess,” she said. “Noon?”
His smile widened. His dark eyes glimmered. “Sleep well, twinkle toes.”
The following hour drifted by as hazy as a dream. Vivian nestled into her bed, washed and warm, on the cusp of sleep. Only then did she realize: A full day had passed without a single thought of Isaak. His grip on her heart had loosened at last.
She rolled onto her side, blanketed by a sad sort of relief, and envisioned possibilities of tomorrow.
25
Out on the deck, Audra studied her son from across the table, visualizing the impossible. She added a dozen years to his face, put pilots’ goggles over his eyes, dressed him in a flight jacket marked with a Nazi patch.
Jack looked up at her curiously. “Mom? What is it?”
She squashed the image, outrageous in every way. “Sorry, I was just zoning out.”
“Got the chef’s special for two here,” Robert announced, delivering a plate of veggie patties. His timing was impeccable.
“Wonderful,” Audra said. “Thanks for making those.”
“You betcha.” He wiped his hands on his apron, the caricature type that transformed his torso into that of a bodybuilder. “Buns will be right over.” He swooped back to the barbecue, where he plated the meat patties for him and Meredith and the toasted bread for them all.
Audra was grateful the weather allowed them to celebrate outside. Helium balloons were tied around the deck, adding a rainbow of color to her in-laws’ backyard. Special occasions of any kind could be rough after a loss; that’s why Audra was determined to make this a bright and cheery event.
“Are you excited to see your cake?” she asked Jack.
“Uh-huh.” He took a gulp of his fruit punch, staining his mouth with a joker’s grin.
She stage-whispered, “I hear Grandpa got you something super special this year.”
“Really? What is it?”
“I don’t know yet. Apparently it’s Top Secret.”
He smiled and bounced his legs dangling off the seat. Audra reveled in his delight until he snagged a baby carrot from the veggie tray. Combined with the setting, the sight reminded her of Isabella and her rabbit on a blanket by the garden....
Audra brushed away the thought to make room for anything light. Like an old favorite game.
“I see ... Geppetto,” she said, indicating Robert as the target.
Jack twisted his lips, thinking. “Super Mario.”
“Hmm, good one. How about ... Elmer Fudd with a mustache.”
“Papa Smurf.”
Tied, two to two. Audra was pondering more mustached characters when Meredith returned from the house. She joined them at the table with a bowl of potato salad.
“This one’s a new recipe, so I hope it’s okay.”
“I’m sure it’s great,” Audra said.
Robert brought the last of the items over and settled in his chair. “I say we have at it. Okay with you, Mama?”
Meredith hesitated only a moment before nodding. “Let’s dig in,” she said with a smile. She was skipping the blessing on account of her guests. While part of Audra found this refreshing, the rest of her sank with guilt. Her commentary about harps and wings must have spurred the change.
Jack, on the other hand, didn’t seem to notice. Though he was accustomed to prayers before meals here—as Audra never discouraged him; he would discover the truth on his own—he appeared just as pleased to dive into his burger.