Flying Home

by Rachel Ann Nunes

  Sighing, she turned from the window and returned to bed. Christian would be by early to take her to the airport, and she needed to get what sleep she could.

  * * *

  Both Christian and Bret arrived at Liana’s door at six on Wednesday morning. Liana let them raid her kitchen while she put last-minute items in her carry-on. Christian was his usual cheerful self, but Bret’s silence bordered on sullenness.

  “Don’t mind him,” Christian whispered as he carried her suitcase to his BMW. “It’s Britanni. After you left on Sunday, she was flirting with me, and Bret was annoyed. When she told him he ought to scrap his Accord and get a BMW like mine, he blew a fuse somewhere. I don’t think I have ever seen him so mad since he lost that full-ride engineering scholarship back in high school. I don’t blame him, really. She’s a beauty, but . . . well. . . .” He shrugged. They were at the car now, and Bret, opening the back door, was within hearing range.

  Liana smiled at Bret as she slid into the car, silently thanking him for giving her the front seat. He smiled back, but his blue eyes were morose.

  “I hope Mom’s ready,” Christian said as he turned onto the freeway toward Paradise.

  Liana yawned. “She will be.”

  Not only was Clarissa ready but both she and Travis were waiting in the driveway when they arrived. “No, no, stay in the front,” Clarissa said when Liana tried to offer the seat to her. Your dad and I’ll sit in the back with Bret.”

  Bret glanced at his watch. “At this rate, you’ll be too early.”

  “Never can be early enough for a trip out of the country.” Clarissa sat beside him and patted his hand.

  Bret’s stern look softened. “Are you sure you two should go alone, Mom? If you waited another week, one of us might be able to get off.”

  Clarissa’s eyes briefly met Liana’s. “We’re sure,” Clarissa said. “This is something we have to do together.”

  Liana was relieved by the firmness of her voice. She knew that Bret and Travis were protective of Clarissa, and on Sunday Travis had dropped none-too-subtle hints about waiting for a time when he could accompany them, but Clarissa had insisted they needed to go alone.

  She’s right, thought Liana. Not only did they need this time together but Liana didn’t relish an audience as she searched for the truth. If she’d had the money, she might have been tempted to sneak off to India without even Clarissa.

  But this concerns her, too, said that little voice in her head.

  “All ready?” Christian asked. Without waiting for a response, he backed down the drive, whistling.

  Liana frowned at him. “You’re awful chipper this morning. I don’t remember you ever being so happy in the morning when you have to get up before six.”

  “He met a girl,” Bret said.

  Christian shot Liana a happy grin. “I didn’t meet her, exactly. She started working at our agency a few months ago, and on Monday she was transferred to my team. She’s a designer. Name’s Tawnia. I’ve been flying high ever since.”

  “Sounds like you really like her.” Liana was excited for him but also a little envious. Christian was a bit of a playboy and could be terribly irresponsible, but he was a good man at heart.

  “I do. A lot.”

  “What’s she like?” asked Travis from the back.

  “Pretty. Striking, rather.” Christian glanced at Bret and then back to the cars in front of him. “Not gorgeous like Britanni, but really, really. . . .” He shrugged. “I can’t describe it.”

  “He’s speechless,” Bret scoffed. “A miracle.”

  Christian laughed. “Well, Bret, at least my girl doesn’t care what kind of a car I drive.”

  Bret scowled and didn’t reply.

  “Your car is kind of getting old,” Clarissa said.

  “Only five years.” Bret’s voice was controlled as it always was when he spoke to his mother. “It still has a lot of good miles left in it. Britanni understands that now.”

  “Good.” Clarissa brought out her compact and checked her lipstick. “You may make good money being a civil engineer, but that doesn’t mean the funds are unlimited.”

  “It wasn’t the age of the car that concerned Britanni,” Christian volunteered. “It was the model.”

  Clarissa pursed her lips. “There is absolutely nothing wrong with Bret’s Accord, Christian. It’s certainly a lot more practical than your car.”

  “Got that right.” Christian gave them a wide grin. “Takes a fortune to make the payments each month. But it sure is a babe magnet. It screams success. As long as I have enough left over for macaroni and cheese, I’m a happy man.”

  Bret gave a disgusted chuckle, shaking his head. “Let’s hope you get a good raise soon.”

  “I’m due for one,” Christian assured him.

  The conversation turned to less volatile matters as they finished the drive to the airport. Liana only listened; even if she’d had something to say, her stomach was churning so much that she doubted she could put together a solid thought if she tried.

  At the airport Christian and Bret took the suitcases from the car as Travis went over the plane changes and layovers with Clarissa one last time.

  “I’m surprised your boyfriend isn’t here to say good-bye,” Christian said to Liana.

  Clarissa turned from her husband. “You have a boyfriend?”

  “No.” Liana shot Christian a black look. “He’s not my boyfriend. He’s a friend of Christian’s, and I’m working for him, that’s all.”

  “Working for him?” Clarissa’s brow wrinkled in concern. “What about your job at Klassy? Did you get fired?”

  “No, I quit.”

  “You didn’t tell me.” Clarissa’s tone was wounded.

  “It just happened. I didn’t want to worry you.”

  “Are you sure that quitting was a wise thing to do?”

  “Very sure. I want to work for myself now.” She was surprised at her own confidence. “In fact, my old boss called me yesterday and offered me my job back—with a raise, I might add. I told him no.” But oh, how she’d been tempted; it would have been so easy to fall into her old pattern of stability. The only thing that had saved her really was her impending trip, which she would have had to cancel.

  Clarissa pursed her lips. “I wish you had told me.”

  “Well, all this came up.” Liana waved her hands helplessly. Please don’t make a big deal of this, she thought.

  To her relief Bret came to her aid. “Well, you’d better get to the gate. Hurry up and wait, as the saying goes. And we have to get to work, right, Dad?” As he briefly hugged Liana, he whispered in her ear, “Have a good time. And take care of Mom, okay?”

  “I will.”

  Travis was next to hug Liana. “Have a good flight, honey. Please call when you get there, and if you need anything—”

  “We’ll call.”

  He smiled. “Take care of your mother.”

  Liana stifled the sudden unreasonable urge to ask, “Which one?” Obviously, Travis had never looked after her birth mother.

  “I will,” she said.

  Christian put his arms around Liana, squeezing her much tighter than the others had. “Have a really wild time, Liana Banana,” he said. “I know I’m going to. Tawnia and I need to take some photos for a design we’re doing, so on Friday we’re driving to Mount Charleston—we’ll be alone all day. I’m going to sweep her off her feet! Of course work isn’t the real reason I chose Mount Charleston. I have a really great idea for a painting I’m going to do for your birthday. The big three-oh deserves something special.”

  “I can’t wait to see it.”

  “You’ll have to.” His expression sobered. “Of course I can’t even start on the painting itself for a few weeks because of Austin. I promised him I’d paint wood puzzles for his orphans.”

  “That’s really sweet of you.”

  He grinned. “Not really. It’ll be fun. You should see some of the designs I’m doing—including a copy of the Mon
a Lisa. Tawnia’s going to help. Those kids are going to have puzzles with class, even if they don’t know it.”

  “That’s great.” Aware that Clarissa and the others were waiting, Liana hugged Christian one last time. “Take care of yourself while I’m gone,” she said, feeling suddenly emotional. To cover up she added quickly, “And no snooping around at my condo.”

  “I’ll miss you, too, Banana. And don’t worry—I’ll be here when you get back. I’m always here.” He winked and strode back to the car, parked by the curb.

  “Go on now, we’ll be fine.” Clarissa kissed her husband and pushed him toward the car. “Finally,” she added when they were out of earshot. “I thought they were about to suggest stowing away in our bags.”

  Liana laughed, more from the surprise of Clarissa saying such a thing than from the actual words. “They are rather smothering. You’d think we’d never traveled before.”

  “We haven’t.”

  “Yeah, but neither have they—except Christian. And he’s the only one who doesn’t mind not going with us.”

  Clarissa hefted her suitcase with one hand and hooked her other arm through Liana’s. “Come on, daughter. Let’s go find our plane.”

  Liana lifted her free hand to wave to Christian as he drove off. Later she would wish she had hugged him longer, had looked into his eyes and told him how much he had meant to her over the years—how much she loved him. But she had no way of knowing that things between them would soon be changed forever.

  CHAPTER 19

  Diary of Karyn Olsen

  Tuesday, July 3, 1972

  So far India is all I expected it to be, only so much, much more. In some ways it is very backward, but then in others it surprises me with how modern it is. I feel like I am in another world entirely. The buildings, the food, the religion, the culture—everything is so different from back home, though almost everyone seems to speak English (British English!). Before now I’d only heard things about India, but seeing it firsthand is different from what I expected. I feel my eyes are open for the first time in my life—and I’ve only been here a few days!

  The women here are beautiful and smart. Most that I have met are small and dark and dress in exotic, flowing saris. Many are uneducated and poor, though some are in government and other high positions. Perhaps these come from the richer families. I don’t know enough yet to say.

  Despite the outward differences, the pregnant women who come into the clinic are much like those back home. They are concerned about their babies, and they love them. Most really want sons and are worried about having daughters, which is really sad. The nurses here strive to help them keep the girls or place them elsewhere if their families don’t want them. A lot better than the female infanticide and neglect that has been so rampant here. The thought makes me sick. Don’t they understand that someone’s got to have daughters? Who will all their sons marry? I’m so excited to help these women. I think many mothers and babies will live who wouldn’t have otherwise. Because of me. How amazing. We don’t have all the technology and conveniences here that we did back home, but we can offer them good nutrition, education, immunizations, and certain painkillers. Knowledge is the key.

  Tonight I’m going to a party with the staff—over half of whom are English or American—to celebrate the Fourth of July. We even have some fireworks. It should be fun.

  After a four-hour layover in New York, Liana and Clarissa flew to London for a connecting flight to India. Because of the time difference, they lost nearly an entire day. Liana spent most of the flights working on Austin’s laptop, organizing more of HeartReach’s finances. She desperately wished she had a novel to read instead—something entertaining that didn’t require deep thought. Her heart felt caught in a death grip, and she had trouble breathing. Once she had a flash of memory of another plane that she had ridden in, of a kind flight attendant who had silently held the hand of a terrified four-year-old while the plane landed.

  Liana didn’t sleep during the journey. The unfamiliar and uncomfortable confines of their coach seats made it next to impossible for her to rest. Clarissa had no such difficulty. The newness of flying had worn off by their arrival in London, and she spread out the thin navy blue blanket the flight attendant provided and soon was snoring gently. She looked older in her sleep, Liana thought. Older and more frail.

  On the flight from London while Clarissa slept, Liana struck up a conversation across the aisle with a white-haired Englishman who had apparently been to India many times. When he learned where they were staying, he clicked his tongue.

  “What?” Liana asked.

  He shook his head. “Nothing, really. Just that street where you’re staying, Suddar Street, is crammed with economy hotels. Many, many tourists end up there. Mind you, it’s a good place to stay if finances are a concern, and it’s close to many things. But I am afraid you will find the streets also crammed with many poor people, children mostly, begging. If you give to them, be sure you don’t do it close to your hotel, or they’ll begin to recognize you and will lie in wait for you to leave your hotel and then follow you around. You will not have any peace at all.”

  “Oh,” Liana said faintly. She didn’t know much about Calcutta, but she had figured that such a large city was likely to have resources to help the poor.

  The man smiled. “Don’t be too concerned. There do seem to be fewer beggars each time I go to Calcutta, and it is a truly wonderful place. I’ve been a dozen times, and still the city overwhelms me. It is a city ready to burst at the seams— over ten million people now. People who love football and cricket . . . and music. There is a plethora of musical and cultural events. Much to see and do. You will enjoy yourself greatly. Don’t miss the Botanical Gardens and the banyan tree. That you simply must see. It’s two hundred years old! The largest in the world.”

  The Englishman assumed she and Clarissa were going to India solely for pleasure, and with her natural reticence, Liana didn’t correct his assumption. She encouraged him to continue his discourse; listening to him extol India’s virtues at least broke up the monotony of the flight.

  By the time they arrived in the airport in Calcutta early Friday morning, she had been awake for thirty-six hours straight. They hired a taxi that took them directly to their hotel. There was a lot of traffic on the streets, and already more than a few pedestrians—most of whom seemed to be women carrying large wicker baskets or cloth bags full of groceries.

  The hotel lobby was well kept, and the Indian clerk greeted them with a smile. Clarissa exchanged pleasantries with him in English as they checked in. Once inside their room, Liana let her purse slide to the floor and lay down on a single bed with a sigh of relief.

  “Well, at least the beds are firm,” Clarissa said, “and the room looks clean. You’re not upset, are you, dear? Your father wanted to find a five-star hotel, but I wanted to really experience this trip. You know?” She looked around the room, her face vibrant. For an instant Liana could see the passion that had caused her to choose a man over her the welfare of her sister.

  “It’s fine,” Liana said, shutting her eyes to block out Clarissa’s exhilaration.

  “And cheap. Just forty bucks a night.”

  “I’m surprised they threw in a bathroom for that price,” Liana replied. “And a refrigerator.”

  “Yes. We’ll have to go food shopping as soon as we’ve rested a bit.”

  Liana mumbled something from the bed and let herself drift off. Truthfully, she could be in the most rat-infested hotel in the world and she wouldn’t care.

  * * *

  When Liana awoke, feeling much better, the air was alive with spicy smells that made her mouth water. Her stomach rumbled a demand for food. Clarissa looked up from the magazine she was reading at the small square table. “Good, you’re awake. I was wondering if maybe I should brave the streets alone in search of something to eat.”

  Liana yawned. “What time is it?”

  “Twelve-thirty, local time. We lost about twelv
e hours crossing time zones. You’ve slept about five hours.”

  “I needed it.” Liana sat up and stretched, yawning again. She could take in the room now with its two single beds, table, refrigerator, and telephone. There were dressers for their clothes and colorful Indian paintings on the walls. A vase on the table held fake flowers. Except for the exotic print of the bedding, the vibrant paintings, and the rounded tops of the windows, she could be in a motel in America. And the smells, of course. Each breath brought in an image of spicy, delicious foods.

  “We can get something to eat and then go to Charity Medical,” Clarissa said, reaching for her purse. “I think we’ll have to take a taxi there, though. I can’t find it on the map.”

  “Here, let me see the map. A man on the plane showed me where it was while you were sleeping. But you’re right about the taxi. It’s too far to walk. Or we could try the subway. I bet we’d find it that way. Plus we’d be experiencing Indian life, like you wanted.”

  Clarissa wasn’t convinced. “I think the first time we should go by taxi. Maybe we can come home on the subway. At any rate, you’d better change. It’s warm out there. Mid-eighties, at best. I had to turn up the air conditioning while you were asleep.”

  “At least they have air conditioning.”

  Clarissa frowned. “Are you sure you’re okay with staying here?”

  “Perfectly. I was kidding. It’s nice.”

  Clarissa smiled hesitantly. “We can always move later.”

  “We’re not really here for a vacation.” Liana hefted her suitcase onto the bed and opened it. “We’re here to find out . . . you know.”

  Clarissa came to stand beside her. “I think we should have some fun, too. We should enjoy being . . . well, together.” She stared at the gauzy flowered skirt in Liana’s hands, not meeting her eyes.

  Liana searched the planes of her face. How different Clarissa seemed away from home and without the rest of the family—unsure of herself, fragile, easily hurt. “Okay. We can try. But now that we’re here, I’m anxious to find out what happened.”