“Tate." Sweet boy, but we had made better friends than a romantic duo. When he had dumped me he'd said, “Katie, your heart's just somewhere else. And it's not with me."
“I got smart our senior year," Charlie said. “Finally worked up the nerve to ask you to prom.” He squeezed the hand he was still holding and gave me a look that zinged right to my weary core. “And you and I spent most of the night camping on a blanket under the stars.”
“At the lake.” I'd been in a wreck that week, missing school for five days. With my leg in a cast, prom had been too much for me, and Charlie had come to my rescue, taking me out to the lake. He’d built me a fire, made a pallet on the rocky ground, tucked me into the crook of his arm, and pointed out every constellation he could find in that April sky while I rested my head on his chest and listened to the crickets and the cadence of his heart.
Then we graduated. And Charlie Benson, of the lingering kisses and spell-binding astronomy, had moved away.
Rain and wind battled outside my window, and I uttered a quick litany of prayers. Prayers that begged for calm skies and fifty more years of life.
“Guys don’t stick around though.” I watched bolt of lightning slash the sky. “Eventually they find someone else, something better.”
He leaned close. “Is that what you really think? That you weren’t good enough?”
“It’s hard to argue with history.” I held up a hand to stop him from interrupting. “I’m not trying to be pitiful. I just want to get to the bottom of it. I’m tired of making mistakes, wasting my time.” Being tossed out, left behind.
The plane took a leap north then dipped back down. My breath caught in my throat. “I want off this thing,” I said. “I want off this thing right now.”
“Please put your seats in the upright position,” announced the flight attendant. “Return your tray to its proper place.”
The pilot took his turn next, giving instructions and saying God only knew what—probably Last Rites. But I couldn't hear a thing for the rising noise around me. Somewhere up front a baby wailed. Nervous chatter swelled within the cabin.
“What’s the pilot saying?” My heart beat a crazed staccato, and I wanted to both cry and laugh at the insanity of it all.
“He said to stay calm, that we’d be out of this storm soon.” Charlie took quick stock of the situation around us, then turned his attention back to me. “You were telling me why you broke my heart when we saw each other last.”
“I did not.”
I expected him to smile, to follow up with a joke.
But Charlie said nothing.
He captured my other hand, prying my fingers off the armrest, then pulled me closer, laying his forehead against mine. “I don’t think you remember the events of those last few months accurately. Katie, I—”
His words died as light and fury exploded around us.
The flash of lightning.
Screaming.
Falling.
Plummeting.
Spinning.
Fear clawed within me as Charlie threw his body over mine. “Hang on," he yelled in my ear. “Just hang on to me.”
I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t drag in enough breath.
Please, God, save us.
I uttered the plea silently.
Then aloud.
It wasn't that I didn’t want to go to heaven. It was just that I didn’t want to clock-in at the age of twenty-three. I'd always known flying through the sky was a bad idea. Always.
“Charlie?”
“I’m right here. I’m not letting you go.”
Buy Can’t Let You Go.
Sugar Creek Christmas Nook Page 16
