Eyes Turned Skyward

“Magnolia, enough.” Daddy’s voice was soft but stern. “We don’t have these breakfasts so you can bully her.”

I swallowed my response, knowing Mama spoke from grief and fear. Maybe she was right, and I was selfish, wanting to make this decision myself, when it affected so much more than me.

I wasn’t just trapped by my condition, the thickening of my heart muscle. HCM might limit me, but the cage I lived in was fortified by my parents’ expectations, locked by their grief over Peyton, and gilded by my own need to lessen their pain by whatever degree possible.

The right thing would be to agree with them, accept the half life the internal pacemaker sentenced me to, and make everyone happy. Even Will wanted it, though he said he’d support whatever decision I made.

But the right thing felt unbearably wrong. My instincts screamed at me every time I even considered the pacemaker. It wasn’t going to save me, and I couldn’t explain how I knew, but I did. I was sick of this. Don’t run. Don’t eat fatty foods. Don’t drink. Don’t forget your meds. Don’t upset your mama, and for God’s sake, don’t raise your heartbeat. Don’t…live, just exist.

The need to flee gripped me, but I stayed put. I had my own place now, with their blessing, and even had one class up at Troy. One helping of guilt for breakfast a week was manageable. I squeezed Will’s fingers, and he took the cue.

“The gravy is fantastic this morning, ma’am.”

Mama forced a smile and accepted his compliment. I took a couple deep breaths and concentrated on chewing.

“How are classes, my gal?” Daddy asked.

“Good. I love this semester, especially the class at Troy. I think next semester I’ll be okay for the rest of the classes I need to take there.”

His brow furrowed. “I like it better when you can take the classes here on post.”

Activate appeasement mode. “I know, Daddy, but they don’t offer all the classes I need down here. It’s only a forty-five-minute drive. I don’t mind.” The commute was a small price to pay to pretend my life was normal once a week. It was a battle I was willing to pick.

“Well, I mind,” he muttered, eating his food so fast I’d swear he was being timed.

An uncomfortable silence settled over the table. I couldn’t think of a thing to say that wouldn’t end badly, so I stayed quiet.

“Will, tell us how your first week went?” Mama asked.

Will slid his hand from my knee like she could see him under the table. “Well, ma’am, it’s not West Point, but it’s nice to have some freedom.” He flashed that grin, the one that had hooked me, and a smile spread across my face as he turned to me. “Plus, the company is much better. It’s nice to be close to Lee.”

Mama rested her hand on her chest and sighed. “It’s lovely to see you two together in person, instead of on the computer. Two peas in a pod.”

Will brushed a kiss across my knuckles. “Couldn’t agree more.”

“Have you given any thought to which aircraft you’re going to select?” Daddy asked.

“Yes, sir. I’d like to fly the AH-64.”

Daddy’s eyes lit up, and he raised his eyebrows. “Ah, the Apache. Good choice. You’ll have to rank at the top of the OML after primary to select that.”

“Order of Merit list,” Will explained as Daddy stood.

“Will’s going to have to finish this phase of flight school at the very top of his class if he wants to fly that helicopter, Paisley. There are only a few of those slots per class.”

I nudged Will with my elbow like we were back in high school. “I’m not worried.”

“How do you like the other lieutenants in your class? Are there many of you?” Daddy carried his plate to the sink.

“Five lieutenants and twenty warrant officers.” Color crept up his neck, and he flexed his jaw. “But it should only be four lieutenants.”

“What’s wrong?” I asked. It took a lot to get under Will’s skin.

“Nothing you need to worry about, Lee-Lee.” He winked, and I swallowed the urge to tell him again how much I hated when he called me that. Lee-Lee was twelve, gangly, and awkward. I hoped that was no longer the case.

“Okay.” I forced out a half smile.

“So about that PT belt–wrapped polar bear?” Daddy asked, zipping his ACU top.

“Yes, sir. I think I need to tell you about that.”

He knows who did it? Daddy’s hands flexed on the counter. “What do you know, Will?”

“It may have been a class prank gone a little too far.” Oh, yes, his cheeks flushed—his tell.

“Your class?” Daddy’s voice dropped softly, dangerously. Daddy didn’t yell when he was super mad. Oh, no, he didn’t need to.

“Yes, sir.”

My eyes flickered between Will and Daddy, and my heart picked up a faster beat. “Will, did you put that thing in the front yard?” I couldn’t stop the words from tumbling out any more than I could quiet the half of me screaming in hope that he had, that he could break even one rule.

He tore his eyes from my father, meeting mine. “No.” He cupped my face with his hands. “I did not do this.” He looked to Daddy. “But I know who did.”

My stomach turned.

Daddy nodded. “I think we’d best continue this discussion away from the ladies. My office seems more appropriate.”