He must have thought that she would comment, or thank him for enlightening her, and that would be the end of it. But she continued to watch him with a listening aspect.

Eventually, he continued. “For as far back as I can remember, I wanted to be up there. I’d spend hours on end as close as I could get to a runway, watching the planes take off. One after the other. Over and over. I never tired of it. Envied the guy in the pilot’s seat. All the time thinking, ‘God, I can’t wait to do that.’”

He looked toward the ceiling as though seeing open sky through it. Coming back to her, he said, “To this day, for that last nanosecond before I pull back on the yoke, I savor the anticipation of taking off. I still can’t wait.”

Her eyes glossed over with tears, but she sniffed them back. “Now, was that so hard?”

“Not very poetic.”

“You’re wrong.” She spoke with emotional huskiness, but even above the cacophony, she knew he heard her.

He sat forward and braced his elbows on the table. “Okay, Dr. O’Neal, your turn. Why did you become a doctor? Did you answer a call to serve your fellow man?”

“Something like that. My mother died when I was very young. Before I understood about incurable illnesses, I was angry at the doctors for not making her well. Wasn’t that what doctors were for?”

“You wanted to do better than they had.”

“I suppose that factored in, early on at least. But becoming a doctor was also—”

“Excuse me?”

She and Rye looked up at the man who’d interrupted them. He was around Rye’s age, but cleaner cut, with hair worn short, and a smooth shave. His Hawaiian print shirt was tucked into his jeans. A Levi’s jacket was slung over his shoulder, hooked on his index finger.

“Rye Mallett?”

Rye shot the bartender a vexed look. “I told him no names.”

“You’re in need of a pilot to fly this lady to an as-yet-undisclosed destination ASAP. Is that right?”

“You instrument rated?”

“Yes.”

“How many hours do you have flying IFR? And what kind of plane is at your disposal?”

“I’m not applying.”

Rye’s tone turned testy. “Then what?”

“There’s a cop asking around the pool tables if anybody’s seen you and a lady fitting this one’s description. Said the police are canvassing all the probable places for you to charter or rent a plane.”

“Shit!”

“So, that resonates?”

“Yeah. It resonates,” Rye muttered.

“What did y’all do to tick off Atlanta PD?”

“You don’t care what we did, or you wouldn’t be over here warning us.”

“Was it short of killing somebody?”

“Way short. In fact, she’s a doctor who’s trying to save a life and running out of time to do it. Security cameras in a parking garage have me trying to teach some manners to an asshole who came at me with a knife. His package is gonna need an ice pack for several days, but he’s still breathing.”

The explanation seemed to satisfy the other man. He pulled on his jacket. “The cop went into the can, but he won’t be long. I’ll walk out with her, like she’s my date. The cop has a picture of you taken off a security camera. I got a glimpse of it. It’s blurry, can’t tell much, but doesn’t hurt to be careful, so use my cap.”

He passed Rye a Braves ball cap. Rye put it on and slid off his bomber jacket.

“Good call,” the man said. “Jacket’s cool as shit, but it’s part of your official description. Meet you outside.” Addressing Brynn, he said, “You ready, sweetheart?”

He came around and held her chair.

Brynn looked at Rye with full-blown panic, not only because the police were conducting an official search for them, but because they didn’t know this man from Adam, and she was being handed over to him. Regardless of the stance she’d taken earlier, she didn’t want Rye to abandon her now.

“Are you coming?” she asked.

“Right behind you,” he said. “Now go!”

She stood up, unsure her trembling legs would support her. The stranger placed his arm across her shoulders and propelled her toward the exit. But as soon as they had cleared it, she drew to a halt. “I’m not going any farther without Rye.”

“I’m trying to help, I swear.”

“Why would you?”

“Rye Mallett? Are you kidding? He’s a legend.”

Just then the legend exited the bar. He spotted the police unit parked off to one side and reclaimed Brynn by grabbing her hand. “Thanks, buddy. I owe you, but we gotta split.”

“Where’s your car?”

“Don’t have one.”

“Damn, man. Come on.” He motioned for them to follow as he led them through the mazelike parking lot where lined spaces had been ignored. When they reached his car, he unlocked it with a fob and opened the back seat door.

Rye said, “No farther until I know who the hell you are.”

“Jake Morton.”

Then he saluted Rye.

Violet

I get to sleep in my own bed tonight. It has softer pillows than at the hospital. They call it a hotel, but who are they kidding? It’s really a hospital, just without bright lights. Only sick people stay there. I’m on the floor for kids with cancer. Mom and I stay there while I get radiation. I hate radiation. But I don’t have to think about it again till Wednesday.

I get to be at home for four nights, or maybe five. Mom said she wants Dr. O’Neal to be the one to say when I should go back. Dr. O’Neal wasn’t there when I got sent home.

Here’s what happened. I was taking a nap. I woke up when people came in my room. One was a man who is a senator. His wife’s name was Mrs. Hunt. She had red lipstick and blond hair. They talked to me in soft voices, and smiled the whole time, and she said I was adorable. He patted my shoulder and told me I deserved a medal for being so brave.

Does he think I’m a soldier? He must be really dumb.

When I whispered that to Mom, she shushed me and said she would explain later, but she never got to, because the senator’s wife wouldn’t stop talking except when she had her picture taken. She asked me if I was excited about being on TV. I said, “Yes, ma’am,” because Mom was looking at me with her “Use your manners” face. Mrs. Hunt told me to wave to the cameras, so I did, because I didn’t want to make her mad. She acted like the boss of everybody.

There was a couch on the airplane for me to lay on. I didn’t throw up. The lady in the dark blue dress brought me a ginger ale. I didn’t drink all of it. She kept asking me if I wanted something else, but I didn’t.

When we got off the plane, more people were there to take pictures. We rode home in a long white car like when we drove to the airplane. Two policemen went ahead of us on motorcycles.

Lots of people were in our yard. They were taking pictures, too. I was too tired to wave this time. I only wanted to see my dad. He ran out the front door and down the steps and hugged me. He had to pick up Cy and hold him because he was barking at the TV people.

My room has lots of balloons in it. My brother popped one. Daddy told him to settle down.

The doctor—not Dr. O’Neal, my first doctor—came in and checked me over. A nurse is spending the night in our house.

Everybody left my room except Daddy. He sat on the bed. He asked me about the airplane ride. I told him about the couch and the ginger ale. He rubbed my head and told me he could feel hair growing back, but I know there’s none there. I smiled anyway.

He leaned down and kissed my cheek, then wished me good night and told me to rest because tomorrow was going to be a big day. He left before I could see that he was about to cry. He thinks I don’t know that he cries sometimes, but I do. Kids are a whole lot smarter than grown-ups think.

I can hear my brothers in their room. They’re fussing over a video game. Mom and the nurse and now Daddy, too, are having cake and coffee in the kitchen. They moved Cy’s bed to my room. He’s asleep in it. Since I got sick, he’s the only one who has stayed normal and doesn’t treat me different.

Daddy told me I was in for a big surprise tomorrow. I think it’s that Dr. O’Neal will be here when I wake up. I wonder if the senator and his wife got her permission to send me home. If they didn’t, she’s going to be mad, because, more than anything, she wants me to get well.

I sure hope I do. If I die, she’s going to be so disappointed.

Chapter 24

10:22 p.m.

When Rye was saluted, he fell back a step as though he’d been struck. “Cut that shit out.”

Jake Morton smiled amicably. “Okay. But climb in. I’ll take you anywhere you want to go.”

“Thanks all the same,” Rye said, “but I won’t be responsible for getting you into trouble.”

“I’m not leaving you, Mallett. Non-negotiable.” Jake glanced beyond them toward the bar. “That cop won’t be peeing forever.”

Relenting, Rye gave Brynn a nod. They all got into the car, Brynn and Rye in back. Jake wasted no time putting several blocks’ distance between them and the bar, then asked where they wanted to go.

Rye said, “Just take us over to the airport. Drop us outside baggage claim. Somewhere near the taxi line.”