When I wake up the next day, I wake up in Dean’s bed. There’s a small can of cold ginger ale next to me with a key and a note. Reaching for it, I read aloud, “Get out for some air. It will do you some good. See you when I get home from my shift tomorrow.”
I put the note back and murmur, “I think I’ll stay right where I am. I’m pretty certain falling from the air is what landed me here.”
Jennings
There’s a light knock on my door. Not turning my head from my computer, I call out, “Come in, Lou,” knowing only one person would dare to interrupt me while I’m reviewing the payroll she banished me to my office to complete two hours ago.
After all, as Lou informed me while nudging me in the middle of my back, “People like to get paid, Jennings, so why don’t you get on that and make it happen before they all walk out on you? Better yet, maybe they’ll steal your planes and just fly away to a better job. One with a boss who pays them on time.”
I paused at the threshold of the door to glare down at the retired military drill sergeant who’s the operations manager of Northern Star Flights. “Why do I keep you around anyway?”
“Because you’re too scared of me to fire me?” she joked.
I opened and closed my mouth a few times before I entered my office and slammed the door behind me in response, refusing to admit she’s right.
Now, for Lou to be interrupting me, either something’s gone wrong down at the airstrip, or there’s a phone call I have to be on. The door creaks open to reveal her trembling. I immediately jump to my feet in concern. “What happened?” Nothing shakes Lou’s composure except an utter catastrophe. Despite her diminutive stature, the woman frankly scares the crap out of every arrogant flight jockey who comes through my office.
I’m now bracing myself as she makes her way toward me holding a large manila envelope. “What’s in there?” I nod toward it.
Lou doesn’t stop at the front of my desk. Instead she walks around the side of it. Twisting myself around, my body locks solid when tears leak out of her eyes. “Just tell me,” I demand.
“It’s from a probate firm in Juneau,” she rasps out. “I hate to be the one to tell you, but Jed’s—”
“Stop,” I rasp out harshly.
“Jennings, I’m so sor—”
“No!” I cut her off, my mind already anticipating what she’s about to say. But if the words come out, then it will be real. And that’s impossible. She can’t be standing in front of me telling me I’ve lost one of the brothers of my heart. Somehow, I’d have known. Right?
But even as my mind’s denying it, I’m reaching for Lou. Harsh sobs rack my body as I realize I’ll never see his wild brown hair standing up at every angle at one of our reunions ever again. I’ll never hear his crazy stories about the locals at his bar in Florida. And the only time I’ll likely get to meet his family—the man he married, his sister-in-law, and nephew—will be at his funeral.
“Just hold on, Jennings,” Lou tries to soothe me.
I swallow and open and close my mouth as I try to speak, but no words come out, only an agonized moan. For once, I do what Lou says without argument and just grab tight.
After getting myself under control, I ask for a few moments alone. Dropping back into my desk chair, I wipe my eyes with a shaking hand before I reach for the offensive envelope. Pulling out the sheet of paper, I read the formal notification from Isler, Litchfield, Garrish, and Knight that Jed is truly gone.
A quick glance at the contents offers a briefly worded apology for my loss as well as instructional information about “where a memorial and burial service will be held for the remains of Jedidiah Jonas Smith,” I read aloud in the empty office. “God, he didn’t even have a chance to change his name with the fucking attorneys.” Crumpling the paper in my hands, I press my fists up to my mouth to subdue the whimpering sounds of pain that try to escape.
Jed’s gone forever. The best one of all of us. How? Why?
And unable to find the answers in the carefully worded letter, I sink down into my chair, lay my head down on my desk, and let the