Love Takes Flight

by Jane Peart

  “It’s best all around, Robbie. You’ll see.” Tyler’s voice was hoarse.

  She nodded, silently screaming, Please go!

  He yanked open the door, and a blast of cold wind chilled the room. Robbie shivered. The door shut loudly behind Tyler. She held herself rigid, listening to his footsteps on the wooden stairway and then the sound of the car’s engine starting.

  It was only then that she noticed her legs were trembling. She collapsed on the kitchen stool and put her head in both hands.

  “It’s for the best, Robbie,” Tyler’s words repeated themselves. It must be for the best. Then why did she feel so bereft?

  It was for the best. She had to believe that. If they had been right for each other, wouldn’t it have worked out? Wouldn’t their differences have been resolved? Maybe, if she had not been so obvious and hadn’t come on so strongly about her beliefs. No, it was self-defeating even to think like that, Robbie told herself sternly. If he couldn’t accept her the way she was, her whole self, then…There was no use going over and over this.

  The ironic thing was that Tyler had pinpointed all the things she had told herself. Strange, that he should be the one to break up their relationship. In a way, she resented it, because he had robbed her of her right to be righteous, nobly giving him up!

  She shook her head at her own weakness. It was she who had been the fool. Tyler was perceptive enough to see that they were too different to bridge the chasm between them. He probably had met someone without her “outdated morals,” her “hang-ups,” or, as he teased, her “Victorian viewpoint” on life.

  Well, she was well out of it! Robbie told herself firmly. It had not gone too far. She would get over it.

  It was not until later that evening, when she was unpacking her suitcase and found the two Valentines intended for Tyler, that Robbie began to cry.

  Chapter Fifteen

  March was bitterly cold. On the Chicago-Denver route Robbie’s flights often were plagued with rain, fog, sleet, head winds, and blizzard conditions. The weather seemed to reflect her own inner storms. Depression wrapped itself around her, smothering her spirits. The heady, unreal excitement of her brief romance with Tyler haunted her.

  The abrupt ending was what stung. But would it have been any easier if she had followed her first inclinations and broken it off herself? At least my pride wouldn’t be so damaged. But, to tell the truth, she had been dazzled by Tyler, flattered by his attention, and had fallen in love with a lack of caution that was uncharacteristic. After all, she had been forewarned about him, but had ignored the caveats and rushed headlong into the romance. Actually, she had no one to blame but herself.

  Coming off-flight one blustery March afternoon, Robbie felt unusually tired. It had been a rough trip. They had been delayed all along the route, held for weather, then, because of other flights with time priority, held for both takeoffs and landings. By the time they finally had made it to Atlanta, they were four hours late. She was looking forward to nothing more than hurrying home, kicking off her high heels, and luxuriating in a long, relaxing bubble bath.

  However, after she had filed her flight log in Operations, she stopped by the stewardess lounge to check her mailbox and found an intercompany envelope from the Chief Stewardess’s office. Inside was a memo.

  To: Roblynn Mallory

  From: Kara Collins, Chief Stewardess

  Please stop by my office when you

  return from Chicago. Important.

  Robbie groaned inwardly—another delay. Well, she might as well get it over with, whatever it was, so she could enjoy her three days off.

  The Chief Stewardess’s office was on executive row in the administration building and very plush. The walls were the familiar Trans-Continent blue, the thick carpets the deeper blue of the uniform’s trim. The furnishings were luxurious—pale blue leather sofas and chairs as comfortable as the lounge seats in First Class jets. Behind the secretary’s desk was a huge mural of a cerulean blue sky with a Trans-Con super jet soaring into the clouds.

  Kara’s secretary was a pretty blonde who, when Robbie gave her name, picked up a blue phone, pressed one of a number of buttons on another blue instrument and announced in a low, cultivated voice, “Miss Mallory to see you, Miss Collins.”

  Almost immediately, the door beyond the secretary’s desk opened, and Kara, model-slim and exquisitely groomed, stepped out, smiled, and beckoned Robbie into her private office.

  “Good flight?” Kara asked as she motioned Robbie to a chair opposite her curved pale fruitwood desk.

  “The worst!” Robbie replied. Kara laughed knowingly as she seated herself and began looking through a folder on her desk. Robbie sat down in the comfortable armchair, eased her feet out of her pumps, and wiggled her toes in the deep shag rug.

  Feeling frazzled and less then perfectly groomed, Robbie observed the Chief Stewardess with awe. With every scultured dark wave in place and the blue bownecked blouse complimenting her lovely skin and violet eyes, Kara Collins was the epitome of a glamorous career woman. She had been a flight attendant for years before taking this job, which negated the myth that the rapid turnover among Trans-Continent stewardesses was due to the fact that they all married wealthy passengers whom they had met on flight. Some of the stewardesses went on to top executive jobs in the company.

  “First, I want to congratulate you, Robbie,” Kara said with a dazzling smile. “You’ve just completed your one million miles flying with Trans-Continent! Here’s your pin.” She leaned across the desk and presented Robbie with a small box. Inside was a pin in the form of a pair of gold wings flanking a tiny blue globe on which was etched the outline of the United States. Underneath in gold was “1,000,000 miles.”

  “Wow!” Robbie said in a low voice. “I didn’t realize—”

  “You’ve done a terrific job for TCA,” Kara beamed. “I’ve never received a single complaint about you, Robbie—not from any member of the crew you’ve flown with or any passenger you had on flight! In fact, we’ve had some very complimentary reports about you!”

  “That’s nice to hear,” murmured Robbie.

  “That’s one of the reasons I called you in today. We have a proposal that we hope you will seriously consider. We would like you to represent TCA in a promotional tour this spring. It will cover twelve cities in six states—all new routes that TCA is opening up. It will involve your appearing on TV, attending civic luncheons, dinners, giving a short talk about TCA and what it’s like to be a stewardess. You may be asked to go to high school career days in some cases, all very informal—things I know you won’t find difficult to do. We think you’ll be a great public relations plus for TCA. So, what about it? We’ll put you on special leave, and you’ll continue to get your same base pay plus flying pay as on your regular schedule, and of course all your travel expenses. How does that sound?”

  “Sort of overwhelming!” Robbie exclaimed. “How long will it take?”

  “Probably about a month, six weeks at the most. We want to see how it goes. It may turn out to be such a good thing for TCA that our public relations department may want to extend it, adding a few more cities in some of the states we already service. But, as of now, I’d say six weeks.”

  “May I think it over?” Robbie asked.

  “Oh, surely. But you will let us know as soon as possible? Our advertising department wants to get to work on the advance publicity.”

  As she drove home along the freeway, Robbie kept reviewing the conversation with Kara. What an unexpected thing to happen just now Ever since her breakup with Tyler, Robbie had been fighting a sense of purposelessness in her life and her Job. In fact, this very day, when she had come off the plane and walked through the terminal, she had been thinking, Another flight, another log to file, another four thousand miles flown. Another day of her life had flown by. And where had she gone? She’d simply turned around and flown back the same distance—nothing gained. It had just added to the one million miles she had already flown. Robbie ga
ve a mirthless little laugh. I’ve flown a million miles and gotten nowhere.

  She pulled into the driveway and braked the car. Leaning on the steering wheel, she looked at the small patch of garden where she had planted bulbs. A few brave yellow daffodils nodded their bonneted heads in the cold wind. Something touched Robbie with melancholy. Since losing Tyler, the whole world had become a heavy, joyless thing.

  The gray winter day made her think longingly of the pastel-colored houses, soft sea breeze, and the shell-pink sand beach of Bermuda.

  She thought of that first meeting. How often she had tried to forget it, but it kept coming back to her. It had been the beginning of the happiest period of her life— a beginning that had ended like an unfinished melody. That was what was so troubling. It remained there always, dangling tantalizingly, hauntingly incomplete. But could it have ended any other way? “ Bittersweet memories are worse. There is always that possibility that somehow you might have worked things out, that somehow it had not needed to end the way it had.

  I have got to stop thinking this way! And about him! Robbie told herself.

  She got out of the car, dragged her suitcase from the back, and started wearily up the outside steps to the apartment. Halfway up, she thought she heard her phone ringing and began to run. Her hand shook as she tried to get the key into the lock and open the door. By the time she rushed inside the phone was mockingly silent. Maybe it had not even rung, at all.

  Robbie shook her head as if to clear it. She had gotten into the stupid habit of expecting the phone to ring. Waiting for it to ring was a habit that would be hard to break, but she would have to break it if she ever were going to get on with her life. She could not live on memories.

  Maybe the thing to do was to accept the offer for the promotional tour Kara had offered. Maybe that was the change she needed.

  Exhausted, she did not even bother to fix herself something to eat. Instead, she merely undressed and fell into bed. Although her body cried out for sleep and rest, her mind raced. Finally she prayed, Lord, forgive me. I asked for guidance and then didn’t follow it. I asked you to show me the way, and I wasn’t brave enough to take it. So, now, I’m coming to You, again. This time I promise to obey. If this tour is what You want me to do, then I’ll go.

  She had one more scheduled flight this month. When she got back from that, she would go see Kara Collins again. By that time she would know what to do.

  Chapter Sixteen

  When the plane landed in Denver, the air was crystal clear with the scent of snow and a brilliant blue sky. Sunlight reflected dazzlingly from the snow-capped mountains that rimmed the airport.

  Robbie had had special responsibility for a ten-year-old girl, Sandi Spencer, on the trip all the way from Atlanta. It was Trans-Continent’s policy that, when minors flew alone, they had to be in First Class under the supervision and care of stewardesses until they were met by an authorized person at their destination.

  After most of the passengers had deplaned, Robbie took the little girl’s hand and said, “Come on, Sandi, let’s go find your daddy.”

  The huge airport lobby was swirling with currents of milling passengers, arriving or departing, along with people seeing them off or greeting them. Robbie moved through the throngs, intent on getting her charge to the Trans-Continent information booth, where they were to meet Sandi’s father.

  A sudden tug on her hand and the child’s delighted cry of “Daddy! Daddy!” alerted Robbie to the happy fact that the tall man hurrying toward them was Sandi’s father, Martin Spencer. He was appropriately grateful for the care Robbie had given his daughter.

  Sandi looked up at Robbie, smiled shyly, and begged, “Walk out to the front with us, Robbie!”

  Outside in the bitingly sharp wind, Robbie stood with them until Mr. Spencer’s company car pulled up in front. The usual confusion and apparent chaos of major city airports prevailed. Rows of taxis, shuttle buses, and cars were lined up, with horns blowing impatiently, loading and unloading passengers. Piles of luggage, baggage carts, and rushing “sky caps” cluttered the apron of the terminal building. Over all resounded the roar of jets taking off and landing.

  Robbie bid the little girl an affectionate good-bye as Sandi flung herself against her in a hug.

  “You certainly must have made an impression,” Martin Spencer observed with a grin.

  “I want to be a stewardess when I grow up, Daddy. I want to be like Robbie.”

  The adults smiled over the little girl’s head. With a final wave they pulled away, and Robbie turned to go back into the terminal. Suddenly she heard a deep, familiar voice call her name. She whirled around to see Tyler striding toward her! A Trans-Con crew van had just let out Tyler, his copilot, and three flight attendants at the terminal entrance.

  Robbie stood frozen to the spot, unable to move or speak. Her heart wrenched painfully at the sight of his lean frame, handsome in his dark blue uniform, the deep tan of his face, and the sun shining on his dark gold hair as he took off his cap. “Robbie! Wait!” he called.

  As he came toward her, Robbie quickly slipped on dark glasses, as if to protect her golden-hazel eyes from the glare, but more to conceal any vulnerability that he might see there. T. J.’s unexpected appearance had wrought havoc with all her well rehearsed composure if ever she happened to run into him. She was still easily moved by looking directly at his knowing eyes, twinkling with some secret joke, and his mouth whose kisses had left her eager for more.

  Then he was standing in front of her. Without hesitation, he pulled her to him, his arms hugging her tight, laughing a low, throaty chuckle, his cheek cold and smooth as he pressed it against her face. Robbie tried to hold herself rigid and resist the silly weakness which she felt at his nearness.

  “What a stroke of luck!” he was saying. “I kept hoping for something like this to happen. Come on, let’s go some place where we can talk.”

  Speechless and apparently helpless, Robbie allowed him to take her arm, steering her through the revolving glass doors and across the terminal lobby toward the escalator. On the second level, still holding her arm, he stood for a minute, then shrugged. “I guess the coffee shop’s our only bet.”

  A few minutes later, they were sitting together in a booth surrounded by the clatter of plates, rattle of cutlery, and the swish of busy waitresses moving through the jammed restaurant with trays and coffee carafes. Hardly the place one would choose for such a meeting, Robbie thought, trying to still her inner quivering. She knew she was nervous. Seeing Tyler had unleashed a thousand tingling sensations she thought she had extinguished.

  You ‘re so weak! she told herself scornfully. He only has to look at you and you melt—snap his fingers and you come running!.

  “Two coffees,” Tyler told the hovering waitress and she disappeared. Then he turned back to Robbie. His look pierced her heart like a lance. There was a question in his eyes she did not want to answer and she lowered her own, not meeting his scrutiny.

  Then he spoke in a low, intense tone of voice. “Have you missed me half as much as I’ve missed you?”

  The waitress returned with their coffee. Robbie asked brightly, for her benefit, “How is California?”

  “Anything else?” the waitress asked.

  Tyler shook his head impatiently. “No thanks.”

  She went away.

  “California is gorgeous, but I’m miserable,” Tyler said fiercely. “I’ve always despised ‘Monday morning quarterbacking’ and that’s what I’ve been doing— frankly, about us.” He paused and shook his head, smiling. “I was wrong to write us off. I know I hurt you and I’m sorry. I honestly felt—at the time—it was the best thing—for both of us. But it was crazy to think I could forget you so easily I haven’t been able to get you off my mind or out of my heart. Is it too late to apologize?”

  She took a sip of coffee, but it was too hot and scalded her tongue. She put the cup back down quickly.

  Robbie felt breathless. Conscious of his nearness, she was
aware of the familiar woodsy scent, that fresh clean aura that clung to him. He put out his hand and touched her arm, and the feel of his fingers through the sleeve of her blouse was warm, sending little sparks streaking up her arm. She drew in her breath and moved away a little. All the torrent of emotions she had tried to suppress came rushing back. She should be immune and hardened to his charm by now, but instead she felt more vulnerable and full of self-doubt. Had she been wrong about him after all?

  “I miss you all the time,” Tyler went on. “Everything I see, I want to show you. Everything I do, I want to do with you. Anywhere I think about going, I want to take you along.”

  Robbie sat as though mesmerized. No words came, but her heart began to race crazily.

  “You’d love California. There’s so much beauty, so much to enjoy. The coast! I drove down to Big Sur last weekend. It was magnificent. But all I could think of was how much Robbie would enjoy it,” Tyler went on.

  “I want you to see my apartment. It’s got a view of the Golden Gate Bridge and the bay. You wouldn’t believe the sunsets! I wish you could watch them with me.” His eyes snapped with excitement. She hadn’t seen him this enthusiastic since their ski trip. “Robbie, you’ve got to come out, see for yourself. Look, it could be arranged. Why don’t you check on who has the Chicago-coast run? Switch flights and plan to work a flight out to San Francisco. Pull whatever strings you can. Then you’d have three days off out there. As soon as you get it set, call me. Here,” he took out a card, scribbled something down, and handed it to her. “That’s my apartment phone number, but you can always get me through West Coast personnel office. I’ll coordinate my schedule, so I can be off the same days. I’ll show you all over. All the things I’ve wanted you to share with me—Fisherman’s Wharf, Golden Gate Park—you’ll go wild over the flowers there—and the zoo, and the Japanese Tea Garden. Then we’d go to Chinatown, take the ferry to Marin… Oh, come on, say you’ll do it!”