Love Takes Flight

by Jane Peart

  Robbie poured some whipping cream into a saucer for Cyrano. While he was happily lapping it up, she tied a red ribbon around his neck and attached a tiny sleigh bell, so that whenever he moved it made a merry jingle.

  She went back to reading the recipe card and making sure she had everything she needed for her cookies. Then the phone rang.

  “What are you doing this afternoon?” It was Tyler.

  “I don’t know whether you’re ready for this,” Robbie replied hesitantly.

  “Try me.”

  “I’m baking Christmas cookies.”

  “Mmmm. Sounds great.” He paused, then said, “Quaint—but great!” Tyler’s rich, deep laugh came rolling over the phone.

  Robbie smiled in spite of herself.

  Then Tyler asked, “Need any help?”

  Again Robbie hesitated, but there was a note of eagerness in his voice she could not resist.

  “Sure!” she said, all her resolutions about not seeing him so often faded away at the very thought of seeing him!

  “You mean it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Want me to bring anything…like sugar plums or—?”

  “Tyler!” Robbie laughed.

  “Okay! Just trying to get into the Christmas spirit.”

  “Good, just bring that.”

  Robbie was sliding her first tray of cookies out of the oven, when Tyler’s knock rapped at the door. The whole apartment was fragrant with delicious baking smells when he walked in with a large paper sack in each arm.

  “What in the world!” Robbie exclaimed. “I told you not to bring anything!”

  “Oh, I just thought of a couple of things that might be fun. ’Tis the season to be jolly and all that.” He grinned as he set down the brown grocery bags on the counter divider and began unloading them. A carton of eggnog, some mocha-mint ice cream, a frozen mince pie, a quart of cranberry juice, and some frozen lemonade. From the second bag he drew out a sprig of mistletoe.

  “Where shall I hang this?” he demanded. Then leaning across the counter, he dangled it over Robbie’s head and suggested, “After testing it first, of course!” He kissed her lightly on the lips.

  He pulled one of the kitchen stools to the center of the room, climbed up, and tied the mistletoe on the overhead light. Then he stood, hands on his hips, and looked around the apartment.

  Following his glance, Robbie saw how cluttered the place was with the boxes and packages containing the presents she planned to wrap that evening, along with her new purchases of wrapping paper and ribbon she had dumped on the sofa when she came home.

  “This looks like the annex to Neiman Marcus,” Tyler declared. He picked up the fluffy, honey-brown Teddy Bear. “Who is this for?”

  “That’s for Tessa, my girlfriend’s little girl.”

  “Are you sure you’re not somehow related to Santa Claus? I never saw anyone so crazy about buying Christmas presents—not that I don’t appreciate your skill. I certainly took advantage of it,” he commented. Approaching the kitchen he started rolling up his sleeves and said, “Now, show me what to do.”

  Tyler proved surprisingly adept at cutting out cookies and seemed thoroughly to enjoy decorating them. Robbie was cleaning up the pans and bowls and wiping off the counters, When Tyler announced, “Now, it’s my turn. I have a neat recipe for a hot, non-alcoholic drink. It’s one of those bits of irrelevant, odd pieces of information I picked up somewhere. I don’t remember how I got it or who gave it to me. I just know it tastes great. Have you got a saucepan around here?”

  “Of course!” Robbie said with mock indignation. “This is a very well-equipped kitchen!” She got one out and handed it to him.

  “I should never have questioned that. My apologies!” Tyler placed a hand abjectly on his chest and bowed his head. “Now, watch carefully—to one quart of cranberry juice, you add a can of frozen lemonade, a teaspoon of cinnamon, that is if you don’t happen to have ‘mulling spices’? No? Well then, a pinch of ginger and nutmeg, allow to simmer, then serve.”

  Later, as they sat on the sofa sipping the delightfully spicy mixture, Robbie smiled at Tyler and said, “You are full of surprises!”

  “So are you,” he retorted. His eyes filled with tender amusement as he glanced around the gaily decorated apartment.

  Outside it had begun to rain in the early dusk. The sound of it pebbling against the window panes and the glow of the small twinkling lights Tyler had helped Robbie thread through the branches of the little tree combined to give them a feeling of warmth and intimacy. Robbie’s mind suddenly flashed on how it might be if they…but then she pushed the thought away. This afternoon had been a novel experience for Tyler—something completely out of character, she felt sure. This kind of domesticity would bore him eventually. He had all but told her that. But, right now, he seemed perfectly relaxed and completely enjoying himself.

  Around five the paper boy knocked on the door to hand Robbie her evening news and receive in return a big package with a glossy bow.

  “Gifts for the paper boy, too?” Tyler raised his eyebrows.

  “A model plane. He loves models,” she said shyly.

  “You are something else,” Tyler remarked slowly. He took the paper from her and opened it, glancing at the headlines and turning the pages. Then he exclaimed, “Guess what’s on TV tonight?”

  “What?”

  “Dickens’s Christmas Carol. Want to watch?”

  So Tyler was planning to stay on through the evening? Robbie mused. She covered her surprise and answered, “Sounds like a reasonable idea for a few days before Christmas.”

  They made omelets, baked the mince pie, popped popcorn and ate it in front of the TV set, as the familiar, beloved story played out on the screen.

  When the movie ended with the exuberant Scrooge dancing a jig and wishing everyone in sight a Merry Christmas, Tyler stretched and sighed and got to his feet. “I guess I better go and let you get some sleep.”

  He took Robbie’s hand, and she walked with him to the door. Before they reached it, he stopped and pulled her close. He looked above where they were standing and said softly, “You’re standing under the mistletoe.” He put a hand under her chin and tilted it up. “Not that I need an excuse.” Then he kissed her—a longer kiss this time than a casual seasonal greeting.

  When he released her he spoke in a low voice, “It’s been a fantastic day, Robbie. But then…with you, it’s always special.”

  At the door he said, “I almost forgot. I’ve got something for you to open before you leave on flight Christmas Day.”

  He ran down the outside steps and out to his car. In a matter of minutes he was back with a deep, rectangular package beautifully wrapped in gold foil and a lavish crimson bow.

  Robbie was a little flustered. She had debated about getting him a gift, and then decided it might not be appropriate. Now, she wished she had something for him, even something small.

  He lingered a little longer, as if trying to make up his mind about something. “By the way, I meant to ask. Do you have any ghosts of Christmas Past lurking in the background? Any old haunting memories of lost loves?”

  “Are you serious?” Robbie asked amazed.

  “Yes.” His tone was even though his eyes were twinkling.

  Slowly Robbie shook her head.

  “Good!” Tyler said with satisfaction. He leaned down and kissed her again. Then he was gone.

  Christmas morning Robbie heard the sound of steady rain before she opened her eyes. She lay there listening to it for several minutes longer, playing with the vain hope that the storm might be bad enough to cancel her flight. But the dull beat of a steady drizzle continued, and she finally reached out to flip on her bedside radio. Immediately the lyrics of the perennial popular melody sung by the familiar crooner poured into the room.

  “Wet not white,” she mumbled as she tossed back the covers and padded into the bathroom to shower. Emerging, now wide-awake, she realized that it was Christmas and she had Tyler
’s present to open before she left for the airport.

  The package was almost too pretty to open, she thought as she carefully loosened the ribbon and slid her fingers under the taped corners of the gold paper. She lifted the lid of the box, pushed aside the sheaves of tissue paper, and her hands felt the smooth richness of fine leather. She brought out a finely crafted, navy blue handbag with a strap that could be adjusted to fit over-arm. Inside the beautifully finished interior she found three small wrapped gifts, a wallet with her initials in gold, a small spray bottle of her favorite scent, and a lovely silk designer scarf. The present was in perfect taste. Tyler had managed to strike just the right note—a gift that showed individualized thoughtfulness without being presumptively personal.

  The terminal was nearly deserted as Robbie walked through on her way to Operations to sign in at Crew Scheduling.

  “Not much of a payload,” growled Captain Larson as he came on board. “Not good for my Trans-Continent stock.” He looked morose but gave Robbie a wink as he passed her on his way into the cockpit. She had flown with Carl Larson before, and she knew he was all bark and no bite. His copilot, Second Officer Cliff Farnsworth, was a different story. “Bring me up some coffee as soon as you can,” he grumbled as he went by. “Why would anyone want to fly anywhere on Christmas Day anyhow? There oughta be a law against it.”

  “And Merry Christmas to you, too!” Robbie’s fellow flight attendant said behind Farnsworth’s departing back in a low voice. Then she smiled at Robbie. “Anyway, there’s a full turkey dinner to serve. That ought to cheer him up.”

  Robbie looked over the passenger manifest and saw Captain Larson was right. There were only a few passengers which meant low revenues, hardly worth the price of the jet fuel for the trip. But, one bright note was that they could give more personalized attention when there were fewer passengers to serve.

  As it turned out, the flight was smooth and for some reason all the passengers on board that day were pleasant. She and Christy were able to work the flight easily and enjoy it. Even Farnsworth became more cheerful. By the time the flight landed back in Atlanta Robbie realized Christmas Day had passed without a touch of homesickness or heartache.

  After filing her flight log she passed through the airport lobby and glanced at the row of clocks along the wall showing the time in different national and international zones. How lovely to think that all around the world Christmas was being celebrated. In the Philippines it had just begun. People were returning from midnight church services. In Alaska little children were just waking up to find what Santa had left for them. In England people were having a holiday tea. Here, her own family was probably gathering around the table to sit down for the traditional turkey dinner. And in the Holy Land, it was evening, the stars in the dark sky reminding people of that first star-bright night in Bethlehem.

  As she drove home through the gathering darkness of the misty, rainy afternoon, Robbie passed house after house whose uncurtained windows showed scenes of decorated trees, doors opening to arriving guests. Strangely enough, it did not make her feel lonely. Christmas was so much more than shop windows, the tinsel, lights, and certainly more than presents, which were only a symbol of the real gift of Christmas, Jesus’ birth. She smiled to herself with a happy lifting of her heart, knowing, that in spite Of having to fly, this had been a very special Christmas.

  Chapter Eleven

  “When will you be back?” Tyler asked, frowning. He and Robbie were sitting in the airport coffee shop. Taped Christmas music played in the background, and the hum of conversation was louder than usual in the room full of holiday travelers.

  Robbie replied, “It depends. I have five days off, but I’ll be flying non-revenue-seat-available, so I can’t be sure. I should be back on the first.”

  “Non-rev is always chancy.” Tyler shook his head scowling. “Especially now.”

  “But between Christmas and New Year’s most people are at the destination where they want to be and haven’t started home yet.”

  “I still wish you weren’t going,” he said.

  “But my family is counting on it. They ‘saved’ their Christmas so that I could be with them, since I was scheduled to fly the twenty-fourth through the twenty-sixth and couldn’t make it home then.”

  “I wanted you to spend New Year’s Eve with me.”

  “You better not plan on it.”

  “I wish I’d known,” Tyler grumbled. “I could have come back a day early and we could have celebrated early.”

  Robbie smiled. “I’m sorry,” she said, thinking how handsome he looked. His tan had deepened to a ruddy bronze from his week in Florida, and his hair was tousled and longer than he usually wore it. The bright blue and red of his Norwegian sweater gave him a rugged, outdoorsy look.

  Just moments before, they had run into each other in the crowded terminal lobby. Tyler was returning from his ski holiday in North Carolina, and Robbie was about to leave for a belated Christmas with her family.

  They looked at each other. They had not seen each other for nearly a week. Tyler’s eyes moved over her as if memorizing each detail. She seemed prettier than ever to him, in a soft, pale blue, cowl-necked sweater, with her hair in coppery little swirls. Tiny gold hoops dangled from her small shell-pink ears.

  They both started to say something, but were interrupted by the blare of the public address system announcing Robbie’s plane. She grabbed her camel hair coat and reached for her cordovan brown leather bag. “I’ll have to go.”

  “I’ll walk you to the gate,” Tyler said, taking her arm.

  They reached the sign that read PASSENGERS ONLY BEYOND THIS POINT, and she turned toward him. Tyler had pulled her near for a kiss when he was hailed by two fellow pilots coming through the arrivals gate. They stopped to ask him how the skiing had been. After that there was only time to say good-bye before Robbie hurried to pass through the security check.

  She turned to wave and Tyler called, “Let me know when you get back!” She nodded, waved again, and then disappeared around the corner of the corridor to the loading bridge.

  The Mallory family’s delayed Christmas was festive and fun. Robbie’s time at home was filled with family and friends, visits and visiting. She did all the traditional things they had always done, enjoying it all, and yet there seemed to be something missing. There was a tiny part of her that was not participating as completely as she had in the past. There was a longing little ache in her heart because she was not sharing this holiday with someone who, she realized, was becoming very important to her.

  Too important? Robbie often wondered that during her days at home. And even if Tyler were here with her, how would he feel about the homey things that were a part of who she was? Would the Mallorys’ simple, small town, family-oriented lifestyle seem somehow “corny” to his worldly taste?

  Robbie did not have a lot of time to think about this or even about Tyler, for that matter. Her days were too crammed with people, outings, hometown events, neighborhood parties, and open houses—that is, until New Year’s Eve and the Watch Night services at the church she had attended all her life.

  Robbie’s mother asked her father to go with them, as she did each year, and he said no in his usual nice but firm reply. Robbie saw the wistfulness in her mother’s face and the lurking sadness in her eyes as she turned away. Something cold pinched Robbie’s heart at what she observed. That’s the way it was when your-faith in Christ is not shared, she realized.

  She did not want to think about it, but somehow that little scene between her parents kept thrusting itself back into her mind all through the service.

  The church was still decorated for Christmas with the tall Christmas tree standing at one side of the altar banks of red poinsettia, garlands of natural greenery draped over each window, and lighted candles burning in each windowsill.

  As the service moved from one part to the next, each pointing to the new year ahead, Robbie’s thoughts turned to Tyler She knew deep in her heart that the
more she was with Tyler, the more she wanted to be with him. All the myths about love made sense to her now; all the lyrics of romantic ballads seemed to have been written specifically about her feelings. She knew that, she and T. J. were on the brink of something. They had come to a turning point in their relationship where a choice of some kind would have to be made.

  Lord, what should I do? Robbie prayed. Is it right for us to go on? Is Tyler who you want for me? Help me to know, she pleaded.

  The congregation rose to sing a familiar old hymn, “Trust and Obey.” Although Robbie had not heard it recently, she had known the words since childhood.

  Trust and obey,

  For there’s no other way

  To be happy in Jesus

  But to trust and obey.

  Even as she sang Robbie was praying, I’ll try to do that, Lord—trust and obey that you’ll show me the way.

  As the pastor prepared to dismiss them, he said, “There are still some little Scripture verses on the tree. If anyone did not get one on Christmas, please take one before you leave.”

  It was a custom in their church to tie small slips of paper sealed with red tags on the tree. Each slip contained a Bible quotation to be used as a special Scripture for the coming year. As a child, Robbie had always loved the suspense of opening the slip and reading her special verse.

  As they rose to leave the service, she asked her mother to wait while she went up and pulled one of the last few slips from the tree. She did not have a chance to open it until she was back in her old room and ready to get into bed.

  Curious, she tore open the red tag, took out the slip of paper, and read

  Trust in the Lord….

  Delight yourself also in the Lord,

  And He shall give you the desires of your heart.

  Commit your way to the Lord,

  Trust also in Him,

  And He shall bring it to pass. Psalm 37:3, 4, 5.

  That’s my answer! Robbie thought.