Flying Too Close to the Sun by George Jehn (most inspirational books TXT) 📗

working under a woman’s command; not an old fart like Woody, an obvious sexist who resented a woman’s authority. Thoughts of Erik reminded her to call her son, Jimmy after landing. Once at the gate she went off to an out-of-the-way corner of the chrome and steel coldly-furnished terminal, went to a pay phone, punched in her ex’s number in Miami and entered her telephone credit card number. Jimmy answered.

“Hi honey. How are you?”

“I’m all right, Mom.”

His voice sounded strangely distant, even though there was an excellent connection. “I was thinking perhaps you could fly up and spend a weekend. Maybe we could go to a Mets or Yankees ballgame? It’s been a while.”

There was a pause. “Sorry, Mom but this weekend’s no good. I’ve got a date Saturday night and my own ball game on Sunday.” Jimmy then added in a very clear tone, “And Mom, don’t forget. My birthday’s in a couple of weeks and you promised me a new Apple MAC computer with a color printer and one of those new fancy cellphones.”

“I didn’t forget,” she sighed. “We can look at all of them while you’re here.”

“I’ll let you know,” he replied. “I gotta jet. Bye. Love ya.”

“I love you too.”

Rumblings started in the pit of her stomach as though she hadn’t eaten for a week. Why was Jimmy so detached? When they finally got together she’d let him know about her epilepsy. A quick glance at her watch showed enough time remained, so she removed a small, black phone book from her uniform pocket. She hesitated, but then dialed a number in Minnesota. A woman answered after a couple of rings.

“Mimi. It’s Christina Shepard.”

“Oh. Hello, Mrs. Shepard.”

It angered Christina when Mimi Johansen called her Mrs. Shepard because Mimi was actually five years her senior. There were also certain undertones in her voice Christina was certain were used to make her feel unclean or inferior for what happened many years ago.

Pushing these emotions aside, Christina asked, “How’s she doing?”

“She’s fine. And Laurel is absolutely eye-popping,” then adding, “she kind of looks a lot like you.”

Christina could just picture her and smiled broadly.

“She got fantastic grades last semester and is about to enter her junior year,” Mimi continued. “She’s talking about perhaps going to law school after graduation.” Following a long moment of silence a condescending Mimi inquired, “Would law school cause any financial problems?”

“It might,” Christina sighed, not expecting the question. She paused for a moment and added, “There’s some doubt whether I’ll even be able to continue paying her undergraduate tuition.”

“But—”

“Something very serious has arisen and I have to speak with Laurel as soon as possible.”

“I can’t let you do that,” came the immediate, barbed retort. “You’re fully aware of the agreement you and your mother signed when we adopted her. I don’t think—”

“It’s imperative,” a fuming Christina interrupted with anger churning just below the surface. “It’s a life and death matter.”

“But then she would discover she’s adopted.” Mimi stuttered. “John and I kept it from her all these years. I don’t know how she’ll react if she finds out. Why don’t you tell me first what it is. I can relay it to Laurel if I decide it’s important,” Mimi reiterated in a voice Christina despised.

“Sorry. This is personal. Something I can only share with her.”

“Can you at least give me some idea?”

Christina hesitated. “It’s an item I must discuss in confidence with Laurel.”

“Meaning she would have to know everything?”

“Yes.”

“You’ve got to give me time to think this over. You call out of the blue and tell me after all of these years you want my daughter to know who her mother really is. With John gone, I have no one else to speak with—.”

“I’m very sorry about his passing,” Christina interrupted.

“It all happened so quickly, seemingly he was fine one day and gone a week later. I’m afraid this knowledge, coming on the heels of her father’s passing could devastate Laurel.”

Christina said nothing more, figuring Mimi was probably worried Laurel might leave and she would be alone. The word alone triggered emotions of how much she had missed out on in giving Laurel up; the tiny, sweet body smelling of baby powder, the runny noses, the beguiling smiles.

Mimi’s voice transported her back to the immediate task at hand.

“Could you call me back in a while?” Mimi finally asked.

“No. I can fly to Minneapolis and meet over the weekend, but I must speak with her. Perhaps we could meet at an airport restaurant?” Christina insisted. Notwithstanding a thousand signed agreements, with or without Mimi’s permission she would contact Laurel.

“All right,” Mimi moaned. “I’ll call you back with a time and place. Give me your number. I have it someplace but I’m not certain where.”

Christina supplied her home number and hung up, thinking she also needed to purchase a cellphone so she could speak in private.

She went to the employee cafeteria and after ingesting a tasteless burger returned to the plane. Lately, everything she ate seemed to produce a case of heartburn. Just prior to departure time she was again handed official notification an armed sky marshal was on board, meaning another probable delay. She sat in her seat, fuming, angry about Mimi and frustrated over yet another late flight. When the same truck pulled up planeside she got out of her seat, put on her captain’s hat and told a startled Woody, “You’re in charge ‘til I get back.” Making certain her ID badge was prominently displayed, Christina descended on to the ramp and as she walked around the nose of the jet, the young man with the badge put up his hand and commanded her at the top of his lungs, “Stop!” Then, he hollered, “She’s all right. Put the weapons away.” Wheeling around, Christina saw the guards had drawn their guns. No longer curious, she was now terrified. “You’re not allowed here,” he shouted over the din of the plane’s auxiliary power unit as he firmly grasped her arm and led her back