Lost in Flight Read online

  It was here, that Christina decided to extract some form of petty revenge. Practical jokes and pranks were Martin family tradition. Whoever got up first, ruled the music selection and whoever broke first, lost the war. Christina set her alarm for 5:00 a.m. to make sure she was up earliest to inflict syrupy pop music on her family.

  Both Johnny and Dad were pathological music snobs about contemporary pop music. Christina took particular delight in playing anything by Britney Spears, Justin Bieber, One Direction and Carly Rae Jepson. She also played Flo Rida’s “Whistle Song” that Dad found borderline obscene.

  Britney’s “Toxic” was a particular favorite that Christina played on repeat, hoping her family would acknowledge the unsubtle sub-text of the song to how she viewed Shanwick. Christina wondered which one of them would break first, but to her own surprise: it was her. When “Toxic” played for the tenth time, Johnny looked at her, closed his eyes and started shaking his head from side to side. “MMMMM,” he sung and launched into the chorus.

  She burst out laughing. Christina couldn’t help it because Johnny’s voice was so deep and this was the opposite of what he usually sung. Her laughter turned into howls as Johnny started dancing to the riff of the song. He pulled a face, clenched his hands into fists, and started crumping.

  Laughingly, Johnny pulled her into his arms and they started dancing. “Sing it, Dina” and so she had. Even Dad was laughing. He came over and hugged her. “See, singing is as easy as breathing for you, Dina, and necessary.”

  Although it was difficult for her to concede, she knew Dad had a point. From thereon in, the atmosphere changed in the Martin house and she joined in on everything. She even joined in on the bickering, backing Johnny for Jimi Hendrix and Dad for the Beatles over the Rolling Stones, but refused to call on the best song ever.

  “Sweet child o’ mine” versus “Stairway to Heaven?” Christina thought, “Not-touching-that.” It would make the Middle East look peaceful.

  They sang together as much as they could with all of them singing or reworking covers to make them their own. They practiced until they got it perfect and Dad was so impressed, he suggested they release versions under Johnny’s label, but Christina waved that idea away. It was Johnny’s domain, not hers and she had no intention of venturing into that field.

  By the time it came to painting, Christina was enjoying herself much more than she believed possible. To her surprise, Dad gave the responsibility of choosing the color scheme of the house to her. She figured it wasn’t much of a choice between her and Johnny, but she was still secretly honored.

  The upside to all this, was her time in Shanwick was almost at an end and it had passed without incident. Once the painting was finished, she was free to leave, but she wasn’t as happy about it as she thought she would be. Apart from the early altercations with Dad and Johnny, she had enjoyed her time with them.

  The downside was that she would have to venture outside the house and into town. Christina didn’t lack for courage, but the thought made her nervous. She didn’t know many people who enjoyed being an object of hatred and scorn. She had been well insulated and protected from most people inside the Martin home, but hiding away was no longer an option.

  Christina flinched when Johnny touched her arm. “You okay, Dina? You disappeared there for a minute.” She looked up into the dark brown eyes of her brother, so like her own and smiled.

  “I’m fine,” she shrugged. “Everything’s…”

  “Fine?” Johnny grinned and shook his head. “Sure. I got it. You’re fine. You know, for a lawyer, you really are a shitty liar. Come on, we can go together.”

  Christina breathed a sigh of relief and nodded. “Thanks, Johnny.”

  “No problem, sis,” Johnny winked and then nudged her with his shoulder. She grinned at him and nudged him back. Their eyes locked and it was so on. They started play fighting like kids and when they scored direct hits on one another, they’d pump their arms in the air yelling, “Dina” or “Johnny” for the win.

  ********************

  Going into town was challenging, but Johnny’s celebrity status made Christina virtually invisible, something she was extremely grateful for. They couldn’t go more than five paces before someone stopped Johnny to chat and ask him for an autograph. Johnny, always the showman and ever polite, would stay and talk.

  Most of them ignored Christina, sending nervous and surreptitious looks her way, which started to irritate her, so she left Johnny to it, making her way to the hardware store to get the paint. She didn’t find the exact colors she was looking for, but the ones available were close enough. She was taking the pots to the counter when she thought she saw Riley.

  For a moment her stomach lurched and her mouth went dry, but when she spun around for a second look, he was gone, and so was her composure. Christina thought her mind was playing tricks and she became flustered. She went to put her father’s credit card on the counter and dropped it, then banged her head when she went to pick it up.

  Then she forgot the pin number and by the time she remembered, the young shop assistant decided she was suspicious, and asked for ID. She’d left her handbag in the car and was told unless she could get someone local to vouch for her, they wouldn’t accept the card. Just as she was about to argue the point vehemently, she heard a voice say.

  “I’ll vouch for her. She’s Christina Martin, and she used to live here a long time ago.”

  Turning around, Christina realized it was a Riley, but not the one she first thought. It was Steven, Riley’s older brother, and he was grinning at her. He enveloped her in a bear hug with a “Hey Dina. How you doing?”

  When the shop assistant didn’t move fast enough, Steven fixed him with a stare. “Dina’s sort of family, so if you won’t take the card, you can put it on our account. But you know, I’d be pretty offended if you didn’t take my word.”

  The Rileys were an important farming family in the community, and to Christina’s amusement the shop assistant moved at lightning speed, apologizing to both her and Steven for any confusion. Steven was similar in appearance to his brother, but taller, heavier set, with piercing dark blue eyes and skin tanned from working outside. He was the antithesis of his brother: sedate, even-tempered, steadfast, and one of Shanwick’s favorite sons.

  Thanking Steven profusely for his help, Christina went to leave. As she picked up her items, she realized she would have to make two trips because Johnny was nowhere to be seen. Steven grabbed the paint out of her hands and frowned.

  “You’re not carrying these by yourself are you? They’re heavy. Did the men let you come alone?”

  Embarrassed, she explained to Steven that, “Johnny’s here, but he’s been caught up somewhere.” Steven’s frown increased and he told the shop assistant to hold his items, telling Christina to “lead the way.”

  As they hit the main street in search of Johnny, people did a double take. A ghost of a smile crossed Steven’s face. “I think they were hoping for a different Riley.”

  Christina laughed – not a real one – a nervous one that sounded like “err-err-err” and fake even to her own ears. With a piercing look, Steven said, “Our parents are well and still living on the farm. Maybe you should drop by sometime and see them?”

  At the mention of his parents, Christina shifted uncomfortably. Both knew a visit from her was probably a bad idea, but Steven had to extend the invitation anyway. Scratching for an excuse that wasn’t an outright lie, Christina said, “I can’t Steven, but maybe next time? We’re nearly finished painting the house and I’ll be leaving Monday or Tuesday.” He didn’t say anything - just nodded.

  They found Johnny still surrounded by people and Steven walked straight up to him. Johnny grinned. “Hey, Steven. How are you?”

  Steven nodded, gave Johnny a hard stare and handed the paint over. As he put them in Johnny’s hands, he said quietly. “I found Dina alone in the hardware store. She shouldn’t be carrying this by herself, Johnny. It’s heavy.”
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br />   It was as close to a scene as Steven Riley got, but the message was received loud and clear. Johnny looked embarrassed, extracted himself from his group of admirers, and apologized. Steven placed a hand on Christina’s shoulders, gave her a kiss on the cheek, said his goodbyes and left. She watched him leave with a light heart and a smile on her face, comforted in the knowledge that at least one Riley in the world didn’t pathologically hate her.

  Chapter Seven – Check-in

  Steven, Shanwick, The Past, Sunday, 30 September 2012, (Six days ago)

  Steven loaded his truck and headed north to his farm. Running into the Martins had annoyed him. He had some liberal views on gender roles, but also strong traditional ones. In his mind, men didn’t let women do the heavy lifting; especially ones with stick arms and stick legs. Steven shook his head at the Martin men’s bad manners and tried to put it out of his mind.

  He’d always had a soft spot for Dina Martin and over the years he wondered how she was getting on. He’d checked to see if she had a wedding or engagement ring on and was surprised that she didn’t. He knew she was a lawyer, and lived in D.C., but she hadn’t given much away when they were speaking. She was a forbidden topic in the Riley household, out of respect for his brother, and to keep the peace. Steven had always liked her, even when he knew he shouldn’t.

  Steven got up the next morning and drove toward the mountains to find his brother. He didn’t know if he was doing the right thing or not, but the urge to check on his kid brother, after seeing Christina, was overwhelming. He pulled into the small town of Lift and drove to the buildings his brother was working on. He couldn’t see him anywhere, so Steven honked the horn, called out “NICK” and waited.

  When Riley heard the horn blast and someone calling “Nick,” he knew it must be his brother. Riley’s immediate family were the only ones who called him by his actual Christian name. He’d been given two: Nicholas and Xavier but went by his surname. It had started as an in-joke. He’d been reprimanded so often by authority figures and addressed as “RILEY” that the other kids started calling him it, and the name had stuck.

  Riley found Steven eating by his truck and waved out to him. He headed over and hit Steven up for some food. Without a word, Steven handed a sandwich and beer over. The Rileys were people of few words and it had taken a long time for them to understand the youngest. He’d been the wild, bad boy of the family, but his success in business had taken them all by surprise. When they asked for Nick’s opinion on business, they all listened.

  Clearing his throat, Steven asked, “How’s it all going?”

  Riley and some other investors had purchased a virtual ghost town with about seven historical buildings they were slowly fixing it up. Steven welcomed having Nick living in close proximity and took it as an opportunity to stay connected to his brother. Nick had lived all over the place and although Steven would never tell him: he had missed him.

  Nick was a strange mix of creative and practical. He holed up somewhere in the winter, grew a beard, and did creative works until spring, before heading back to New York. Steven knew Nick was in town because of Gabby’s accident and had taken over fixing Lift from Jack Martin. Steven was used to a semi-isolated existence, but he couldn’t do what his brother did. Nick spent months away from just about everyone, in places without cell phone coverage or Internet access, to work undisturbed.

  Shrugging his shoulders, Riley said, “The outside’s nearly done. I’ve got a few more days of work, but it’s all good.” The two men went quiet for a bit, eating and drinking in companionable silence.

  “So,” Steven said, “I went into town yesterday.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “And I ran into Johnny,” Steven continued.

  “Mmmm.”

  “Agh, Dina was with him,” mumbled Steven.

  The silence was deafening and the brothers didn’t say a word for some time. Steven listened to the wind whistling through the trees and waited. Nick had always been intense, but it seemed to magnify when he went off-grid to do his creative work.

  Steven didn’t take it personally, but he could feel the tension. He did something unusual for a Riley male. He kept talking.

  “Agh, she said she’s leaving Monday… Tuesday… at the latest. She looks different, but good. Still pretty skinny, but her hair’s not black anymore. She looks less like...”

  “A witch?”

  Steven’s disapproval at his brother’s comments was clear on his face. “Well, I wasn’t going to say that. I was going to say Emo or Goth.”

  Riley turned and stared at Steven intently. “So she’s leaving early?” When Steven nodded, Riley smiled. “Good.”

  Steven exhaled a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. It had been a long time since they’d talked about Christina Martin and Steven didn’t know how his brother was going to handle it. When Christina and Nick finally divorced, he’d chain-sawed the marital bed and set fire to everything that reminded him of her. Steven would never forget watching his little brother drag everything out the front of the farmhouse, dousing it in gasoline, and throwing a match on it.

  So, Steven had done the only thing he could think of. He grabbed beers and went to help. Their father came too. Steven never wanted to see his brother like that again. He’d never felt so helpless in his life.

  Nick looked at him curiously. “I’m nearly finished here.” He patted Steven on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, big brother. I’m okay. I’m over her. It’s just better for everyone, if I keep away until she’s gone.”

  Steven watched Nick stand up and go to leave, saying over his shoulder. “Tell Mom and Dad I’ll be back late next week,” then walked out of sight.

  Steven watched his brother walk away and hoped like hell that everything he said was true.

  ********************

  Christina, Shanwick, The Past, Thursday 4 October 2012, (Three days ago)

  Christina genuinely believed her visit to Shanwick would end by Tuesday at the latest, but Dad had other plans. They had worked non-stop over the weekend and were doing the final touches, when there was a knock at the front door. Opening the door, Christina was surprised and genuinely pleased to see a smiling Mrs. Tessa Marsh standing there. Mrs. Marsh was the first grade elementary school teacher and a living legend in Shanwick.

  “Christina! How are you? You look so well,” Mrs. Marsh beamed. “Can I come in?”

  Mrs. Marsh was a petite, 50 something year old, with wavy brown hair and golden highlights, large dark brown eyes and an infectious smile. Although she’d lived in Shanwick for a long time, you could still hear remnants of Mrs. Marsh’s native Georgia in her voice.

  “Sure,” Christina smiled back. “Where are my manners? Please come in.”

  The two women stood smiling at each other, until Tessa murmured. “Is your father home, dear?”

  Before Christina could respond, the man himself appeared. Then, something strange and horrible happened. Dad moved toward Tessa and took her hands, and they stared intently into each other’s eyes. They didn’t say anything to each other for a while. They just looked like they wanted to be alone, so they could do things that Christina’s mind blocked for self-protection.

  Johnny had followed Dad out and stopped when he saw what was going on. He ran a hand across his face and stared first at what was before him, and then at Christina. They shared “ewww yuck” looks, but dropped them fast when Dad turned around.

  “Johnny, Christina, you remember Mrs. Marsh, right?”

  Johnny nodded and smiled. “Of course, we do.”

  “Oh, Jack. Kids, please call me Tessa,” she laughed. “I think we should all be on a first name basis.”

  Johnny flashed Christina a look and they gave tight smiles to one another.

  “Tessa and I are going out,” Dad blurted.

  Oh god, thought Christina. A part of her was really happy that her father had found someone as wonderful as Mrs. Marsh and another part fixated on whether ‘going out’ was the appropr
iate phrase to use when you were over 50.

  Dad grabbed Tessa’s hand and drew her closer. He was completely oblivious to anything other than Tessa, staring at her like she was some rare Beatles album he’d found at a market. Tessa looked at Dad through hooded eyes, like he should receive a gold star for god knows what.

  Tessa whispered something in Dad’s ear and he nodded. “We’re going away this weekend. You two can finish up, can’t you?”

  Neither Christina nor Johnny said a word. Their childhood memories of the lovely Mrs. Marsh had just become horribly sexualized. They just stared as their father rushed a breathless, and giggling Mrs. Marsh out the front door.

  Christina knew more things from that exchange than she wanted to, but the most important was a) her father was getting more sex than she was and b) her plan for an early exit was toast.

  Johnny came and stood beside her. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

  She turned to her brother. “Well that depends. If you’re thinking Dad is having old people sex, which is really, REALLY, fricking disgusting, then yeah, we’re probably on the same page.”

  Johnny threw his head back and laughed. “Yep. That pretty much covers it.”

  ********************

  Riley

  Riley arrived back in Shanwick late Thursday evening and slowly drove past the Martin house to see if there was any sign of life. There was one light on and the garage wasn’t open, so he made his way back to his parents’ property, and unloaded his truck. He never stayed in the big house with his parents when he was home. In fact, he’d moved out when he was 17.