Turbulence

by E. J. Noyes

  “Not at all, Ms. Rhodes. Just a little different to what you usually wear while I’m working. I mean suits, dresses and heels are lovely, but…well.” She shook her head as if to clear thoughts from it. “I’m very sorry. That was inappropriate.”

  “Yes it was.” I leaned closer. “Feel free to do it again.” I swear I could feel her eyes on my ass as I walked to my seat.

  “You make it very hard to do my job,” she called from behind me.

  I settled in my usual seat and crossed my legs. “Then we’re even because since we met, I’ve found it very hard to concentrate on mine. And pretty much everything else for that matter.”

  She looked ever-so-smug. “Speaking of jobs, our flight plan is filed, fuel is on board. Everything is ready whenever you are.”

  “I’m ready.” I shoved my purse in the compartment beside the seat and buckled myself in.

  “If there’s anything I can do to help, or make you more comfortable please let me know.” The look she gave me left no doubt about how exactly she wanted to help.

  I’d promised myself that I wouldn’t do anything naughty while she was working but it didn’t stop me running through a checklist of everything I wanted. Flying me to Mama’s was at the bottom of the list. “Will do, thank you. Just going to catch up on some Orphan Black.” I crossed my legs, squeezing my thighs together.

  She closed the cabin door, the quiet whine of the hydraulics cutting through the silence, then moved to the cockpit, sat in the left-hand seat and reached behind herself to close the curtains. I yanked the seat belt tighter. “You can leave it open if you like. Unless it’ll be distracting.”

  Audrey turned around, headset in her hand. “Ms. Rhodes, you’re always a distraction.”

  * * *

  The moment we landed and began to taxi off the runway I turned my phone back on. Staring at the inevitable barrage of voice mails and emails, all the relaxation I felt at spending a few hours off the grid evaporated. One from Mark, two from Clare, three clients, Mama telling me she’d be there to fetch me at seven on the dot. I took notes and made a final check of my emails as Audrey shut everything down.

  She hovered near the electrical panel. “Are you ready to head out?”

  “I am.”

  “After you.”

  Again, I felt her eyes on my ass when she followed me down the stairs. She raised the door, made a few final checks to the exterior of the jet and turned to me. “Well, I’m officially off duty.”

  “That you are.”

  “May I kiss you now?” Her eyes twinkled under the artificial lights in the rented hangar.

  Tempting. I stepped close so we were almost toe-to-toe. “Perhaps once you’re out of that uniform. Wouldn’t want anyone getting the wrong idea.”

  Audrey shook her head slowly. “Damn.”

  We started walking toward the terminal building. “Mama’s coming to get me but I can drop you at the hotel? And I should be able to sneak out tomorrow some time if you wanted to uh, hang out or see some sights.”

  “Iz, this is time to spend with your mother. I’m certain I can find plenty to entertain myself this weekend. I’ve never been down this way before.” She held the door open for me. “I saw there’s a Farmer’s Market on tomorrow.”

  The sound of my boot heels echoed through the almost empty building. “Yep, just behind City Hall. We might catch you there.” I turned to look at her, trying to make out her expression.

  “We’ll see how it goes.” She was noncommittal. I couldn’t tell if she wanted some time alone, or if she was being polite. I knew the reason when she continued, “You can see me any time. This weekend is for your mom.”

  The automatic doors slid open and we were outside again, at the front of the terminal. I hoisted my laptop back onto my shoulder. “Remember, just take a cab as much as you need, or hire a car. There’s a nice place for dinn—”

  “Iz.” She flashed me a patient smile. “I know how it works.”

  My reply was interrupted by Mama’s Prius screeching to a stop just past us, and from the curb I heard the ratchet sound as she yanked the park brake on. Lord, I hated the way she did that. She flung the door wide and raced toward us, smiling her gap-toothed smile at me. It was the same smile I’d inherited, though Mama insisted on closing the space between my two front teeth with braces. Secretly, I still harbored a grudge. I thought that gap had made me look cute.

  Mama glanced at Audrey, the questioning look turning into a smile before she pulled me in for a tight hug. Despite a five-foot eight-inch mother and an apparently six-foot-three father, I only just made it to five-foot three. And that was if I stood up really straight. Whenever Mama hugged me, I fit perfectly under her chin, melding into her soft curves as if they were made just for me. I’ve always loved that snug fit.

  “Bunny! I’ve missed you,” she said into my hair.

  I cringed when she used the pet name she’d had for me as long as I could remember. It was one thing in private, but to say it in public? Thankfully, Audrey gave no response to indicate she’d heard. Mama held me at arm’s length, though her delighted gaze was on Audrey. My mother had no guile. She looked excited because she was. “You brought a friend! Who is this?”

  “Mama, this is Audrey Graham. Our new pilot, and a…friend.” Also, you know, my lover. Surprise! I made vague introduction gestures. “Audrey, this is my mama, Constance Rhodes.”

  Mama reached for Audrey’s hand, clasping it between both of hers. “Audrey. What a beautiful name. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Please, call me Connie. You’ll be stayin’ for dinner?”

  “Mama, I don’t think, I mean, I’m sure she has plans.” I turned to Audrey, eyes wide. If she didn’t want an interrogation over dinner, she needed to make an excuse right now.

  There were no excuses. Instead, Audrey nodded thoughtfully. “Actually no I don’t have plans. Just a night of television and room service.”

  Mama looked aghast. “Pah! Well it’s settled then, I insist. We’ve got pot roast and fixin’s. There’s always plenty.” Understatement.

  I wrinkled my nose. “You left the oven on while you came to fetch me?”

  “It’s only a twenty minute round trip. You worry too much.” Mama dismissed me with a wave and turned expectantly to Audrey. “We’d love for you to join us.”

  Audrey responded with her stunning smile. “That would be wonderful, thank you. It’s been a while since someone cooked for me.” She didn’t look my way, but I knew it was a sneaky teasing dig.

  That smile was the exact moment Mama became smitten. Audrey’s smile could win anyone over, but coupled with some poor soul who needed feeding? Mama barely spared me a glance. Don’t mind me, you two. Mama nudged me. “Bunny, can you drive? You know I hate drivin’ at night.”

  “Sure.” I waggled my fingers for her keys.

  We played our usual game where she asked teasingly if I even remembered how to drive, while I fumbled with adjusting seats and mirrors. I turned, hooking my arm over the back of the passenger seat to speak to Audrey. “We can stop by the hotel if you’d like?”

  “I’m happy to change at the house, if that’s okay? Saves you making an unnecessary trip.”

  She’d be naked in the bathroom while I sat in the kitchen and tried to converse with Mama. Oh boy. I ran my tongue over my lower lip and almost managed to keep the squeak from my voice. “Sure.”

  My phone rang as I was pulling out of the terminal. I glanced at the ID. Shane Preston. Grimacing, I hooked my Bluetooth headset over my ear. “I’m really sorry, I have to take this.” My whole life was one great big apology for taking calls and working at times I should be doing other things.

  “Bunny,” Mama warned.

  “Mama, please don’t. I know, okay, but I can’t help it. I have to make a livin’.” I avoided her stare and answered, “Isabelle Rhodes.”

  Shane launched right in with his usual rant about market stability. I had ten minutes before reaching Mama’s house, and judging b
y his tone it’d take every damned one of those minutes to appease him. I’d imagine it was odd for Mama and Audrey to listen to only my side of the conversation as I drove toward my childhood home. Also very rude, and awkward.

  For the next five minutes, I got in a few musing sounds until finally Shane told me he’d raise his input again. It’d only taken two months to get him there. I exhaled, battling annoyance that he’d chosen now of all times to call and tell me this. Ever heard of email, buddy?

  “Shane, I’m pleased you’ve decided to commit to twenty. As I said last month, it really opens up a whole new level for you…mhmm…I think you’ll be more than pleased with the results.”

  Mama’s small car shuddered as I raced over the train tracks. “Coal? No, as I’ve told you a number of times, coal is a—” My hands tightened on the wheel. “It’s really not a safe investment…the market…well, if you insist, but I must caution you strongly against it. No, I know you told me that your brother-in-law…yes. Yes, I know. May I advise only a small percentage?”

  I turned onto my mother’s street, slowing to a near crawl to prolong my time. Mama would roast me if I stayed in the car with a client on the phone once I’d parked. I was right there with her—I wanted to go inside, open wine and think about Audrey naked. “…Shane, I understand but I’d like to remind you, respectfully, that this is my job. You’re entrusting me with your money and I take your trust very seriously. I’ve been doing this for a long time, we’ve been doing this together a long time.”

  Gravel crunched under the tires as I rolled into Mama’s carport at a snail’s pace. I raised my pitch to max enthusiasm. The ditziest of ditzes would have been envious. “Great! I’m so pleased you’re on board. Why don’t you call Monday and we’ll get into details.” I forced a laugh. “You too, enjoy the show tonight.”

  I waited until I’d heard the call disconnect, made sure he was really gone, and yanked the Bluetooth from my ear. “Fuckin’ idiot asshole! I feel like tellin’ him to take his portfolio to Mark if he wants to lose four-point-eight goddamned percent. Christ!” I came to a hard stop, slammed my palm down on the steering wheel and pulled the park brake on.

  Mama slapped my arm. “Isabelle Renee. Curse words.”

  There was a snort from the backseat. I inhaled, trying to calm the pounding in my temples. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.” My eyes found Audrey’s in the mirror. “Sorry.”

  Audrey smiled and gave me a slight headshake. Mama opened the door, illuminating the interior of the car. She fiddled with her handbag and turned to the backseat. “I assure you, Audrey, she does not get that temper from me.”

  I nudged the car door open with my toes. “No, Mama but I did learn all my curse words from you.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Audrey feigned surprise as I closed the door on my childhood room before she could see inside. “Not even a peek?”

  “Oh no.” I took her hand and guided her toward the bathroom so she could change.

  She lingered at the door, suddenly looking like she’d reconsidered the appropriateness of being in Mama’s house. “Are you sure it’s fine for me to stay for dinner?”

  I ran my hand up her arm, feeling her muscle tighten then relax again. “Trust me. Mama loves two things more than anything. Surprise visitors and feeding people. Feeding a surprise visitor will make her week.”

  “But is it okay for you?”

  “Yes. Get changed, I’ll see you downstairs when you’re done.”

  I sat at the kitchen table and distracted myself from thoughts of her changing upstairs by pouring a large glass of white. I’d barely swallowed my first mouthful when Mama pounced. “How’s work, baby?”

  “Busy, same as always.”

  “You look tired.”

  I shrugged. There was nothing to say. I was tired. Partly from work but also from shortening my sleep hours with what sometimes felt like scheduled lovemaking, wonderful as it was. “No more than usual.”

  She moved to stand beside me, body warm against my shoulder as she ran her hand through my curls. “I worry about you, Bunny.”

  Here we go. Countdown to relationship status in three…two…

  “Ever since Steph left—” Bingo. “You’ve been working nonstop. You need some balance in your life.”

  I twisted to look up at her. “I have plenty of balance, Mama and besides, I’ve worked too hard to just let it all fall apart now.”

  My mother gave me her look. The one that told me I was about to be delivered some home truths disguised as gentle guidance. Her style wasn’t to jackhammer, oh no. She was water, gently washing at your feet. It felt nice at first, until you realized that she’d rotted away all your foundations and you were about to be carried away by her tide.

  She was like a song stuck on repeat. She’d start with gently reminding me how companionship completes a person, then move onto talking about marriage, which would segue into the grand finale of how much she wanted grandchildren. Having children was dead horse territory—the topic could be flogged no more. I’d been adamant for as long as I could remember that I was not interested in kids. Maternal I was not.

  Mercifully, Audrey’s footsteps on the stairs made Mama abort her strafing run. I was safe, for now. Mama bent to kiss my forehead, picked up her glass of wine and walked away to check the oven. Audrey stepped hesitantly into the kitchen. She’d changed into tight jeans and tighter tank, let her hair down and reapplied perfume. The scent always did strange things to me, made me feel like I was unconsciously gravitating toward her.

  Audrey winked at me then looked to Mama. “Connie, that smells absolutely amazing.”

  Mama’s face was part beatific, part smug. “Wait’ll you taste it.”

  I shuffled to the fridge. “What can I get you to drink? Beer, wine, water?”

  “Beer would be great, thank you.”

  “Any preference?”

  “Whatever you’ve got is fine.”

  I pulled a bottle from the fridge, popped the top and handed it to her. “There you go.” Wiggling the bottle of white above my head, I asked, “Mama?”

  Wordlessly, she lifted her nearly empty wine glass. I refilled it for her and poured the rest of the bottle into my own. Audrey settled against the counter, watching finishing touches being put on dinner.

  “Bunny, can you check I locked the chickens up? I can’t remember,” Mama said vacantly.

  Audrey didn’t bother to hide her smirk. As I gently pushed her aside to fetch the flashlight from a drawer, she whispered, “Bunny.”

  I took my wine and prowled through the garden, wondering what the heck they were talking about in the kitchen. Mama wouldn’t hesitate to pry. It bothered me because Audrey and I weren’t anywhere near the meeting family, twenty-question stage. Yet I’d still brought her here. Nat was right. Again.

  Dual laughter carried out from the kitchen window. I contemplated creeping up under the window to listen. Too stalkerish. The chickens clucked uncomfortably when the flashlight beam hit them. As I’d expected they were locked up, and it confirmed my suspicions that Mama wanted a few moments alone with my girlfr—

  Lover.

  I barged back inside. The scene was right out of Happy Kitchens magazine, pot roast resting and Mama handing Audrey a spoon to taste test her gravy. The expression on Audrey’s face was one I knew fairly well by now. Enjoyment. Pleasure. “Wow,” she said, shaking her head. “That’s incredible.”

  Mama nodded. “Told you.”

  Told her what, exactly? I felt like a third wheel as I dropped the flashlight back into the drawer. “The chickens were in.”

  “Thank you, baby. This is about done. Can you set the table, please?”

  Audrey helped me relocate my laptop, tablet and work phone to the den. I turned them all to silent. Working at dinnertime was strictly forbidden and I didn’t feel like incurring any more wrath tonight, especially not when we had company. “I’m real sorry, she can be intense,” I said quietly.

  “No, not
at all.” Her eyes flicked toward the kitchen. “She’s great.”

  My grateful hand found hers of its own accord, squeezing gently, and Audrey returned the gesture with warm reassurance. She cast her gaze around the den at the masses of photos adorning the walls and almost every surface. “Mind if I look?”

  “Go ahead.”

  Audrey wandered around, looking closely at each picture. Most of them were of me, doing everything from being grumpy at age five in a ballet outfit, to running track and receiving my college degree. She picked up one of my favorite photos, the one I kept meaning to have a copy printed.

  It was taken last year during a trip Mama and I took to Europe. We were standing outside a pub in London and a stranger had come up and very apologetically told us he couldn’t help it, but he’d photographed us. I was getting ready to unload on him, until he turned his camera to show me the photograph. My hair was everywhere, Mama was reaching to hug me and we were both laughing because of her confusion about pounds currency and pounds weight. I loved the lightness of the image. The stranger emailed it to me, and I sent him some money in return and a message that if he was ever in New York, to look me up for some work.

  Audrey ran a finger over the wooden frame. “This is brilliant.” She lifted the picture close to her face, studying it. Then she looked over and studied me as though she was comparing the Isabelle in the photograph to the one standing beside her. Most of the time, the two Isabelles were miles apart. Except when I was with Audrey. She set the photograph down and faced me, expression soft. I stepped closer, already on the balls of my feet to kiss her.

  Before I could, Mama’s insistent voice carried through from the kitchen. “Isabelle Renee, this table is not settin’ itself!” Despite my age, my commercial success and my ability to manage not only my wealth but my clients’, Mama still treated me like a child reluctant to do her chores.

  I barely suppressed an eye roll. “Okay! I’m coming.”

  Mama always ate dinner with a fully-set table, cloth napkins and flowers carefully arranged in the center. The habit was one she’d learned from my Grams and I know she wanted to pass this custom to me. When she stayed with me in New York I made the effort, but I’m sure she suspected the moment she left, I was back to eating on the couch or at my desk.