Chapter 191

Things move fast as Frankie and I climb into the cargo plane, the door slamming shut behind us not a minute after we start making our way to the front.

I pause for a second after the door is closed, looking backwards towards the pallets stacked with goods. “But the shoes,” I murmur, my feet already cold, thinking about the Nike sneakers the nice man promised –

“Bambina, my love,” Frankie says on a rushed sigh, turning and taking me by the shoulders, making me look at him. “This plane is going to take off in –“

But then it starts to move, and my eyes go wide, and Frankie bursts out laughing and ushers me forward to the front of the cargo area, where apparently we will be stowing away for the evening. There Frankie makes quick work of grabbing down a first aid kit off the wall by the door and taking it with him as he moves into the tight space between two pallets, pulling me with him.

Frankie works his way far between the pallets and then he uses the supplies from the backpack to create as much of a mat as he can, sitting down in the tight space with his back against some boxes. Then he opens his arms to me.

“What?” I ask, confused, looking around at the tiny space. “Where do I sit?”

“Here, with me,” he says, laughing at me and shaking his head.

“I don’t even get my own seat!?”

“Iris,” he says, laughing as the plane starts to make a turn. “Would you get down here? This is not a luxury airline – and you’ll be warmer with me than sitting alone.”

I scowl a bit but do as I’m told, sitting between Frankie’s knees and turning so that I’m sitting with my shoulder against his chest and can look up into his face. He shrugs, nodding to me, and then opens the first aid kit, pulling out the very thin blanket and spreading it over us, tucking it in tight.

“What else is in there?” I ask, peering into the kit as he begins to shut it.

“Why?” he asks, pausing. “Do you need something?”

“Well, is there anything for like, motion sickness?” I ask, curious, peering inside.

“Do you…” he pauses, peering at me. “Do you get plane sick, Bambi?”

“I don’t know,” I say, looking up at him with a shrug. “I’ve never been on a plane.”

He stares at me again for another long moment before bursting into laughter, shutting the first-aid kit and tucking it in next to him while he shakes his head and wraps his arms around me, pulling me close to his chest. “Oh, you poor thing,” he sighs, shaking his head at me. “You’re never going to fly again.”

“Why?” I ask, looking at him with a bit of surprise.

“Because,” he says, giving me a wide grin. “You’re going to hate it.”

I open my mouth to push for more information but suddenly the engines get very, very loud. My head whips around as the plane suddenly moves forward again, faster this time, and then begins to pick up speed.

And then there’s an incredible amount of noise as the whole room that we’re in begins to tilt upwards and everything – everything begins to shake. Frankie sucks in a deep breath and takes his right arm away from me, using it to brace the pallet of goods next to us, and my breath comes quicker as…as…

God, I don’t know. As we take off, I guess – which is terrifying and loud and horrible. I begin to breathe very hard, my heart pounding, even as Frankie keeps one arm tight around me and I press my eyes shut and tell myself it’s all right – that this is totally normal –

And eventually the plane evens out a little, and Frankie puts his other his arm back around me, and tilts me closer, and begins to murmur very soft nice things in my ear about how we’re fine, and this is how planes work, and he’s very sorry that he’s not a mafia don and that we’re not flying first class with champagne and cocktails and a bathroom.

I groan when he says that, turning to him. “How…how long is the flight!?”

“Like eight hours,” he says, giving me a chagrined little shrug.

“Eight hours without a bathroom!?” I gasp and he just grins at me.

“It’s an adventure, Bambs,” he says, tugging me closer to him. “It’s not an adventure if it’s comfortable the whole time.”

I grumble my discontent, saying I’d quite like even a slightly more luxurious adventure. And Frankie, to his credit, just pets my hair and smiles and lets me murmur my complaints until I feel better, which is honestly pretty soon.

And once we really get up in the air and the plane levels out – at least, according to Frankie’s description – it’s really…not so bad.

But I find myself completely disinclined to move from the safety and warmth of Frankie’s arms, pressed tight to his chest.

“What do we do now?” I ask after a long few minutes of silence, resting my head against him.

“Hang out,” he says quietly, still stroking my hair. “Until we fall sleep.”

“Do you think you’ll be able to fall asleep?” I ask quietly, wondering if I will.

“I can sleep anywhere,” he murmurs. “But I’ll stay up until you fall asleep.”

“Don’t do that,” I say, turning my head to frown up at him. “You should sleep if you can.”

“Nah,” he says, smirking down at me. “And miss all of this adventure? No way in hell, Bambs.”

I grin at him, snuggling closer and savoring his warmth and…well. And the way his arms feel around me, so cozy and safe. But…I don’t let my mind go there, to what that might mean to me, to be wrapped up like this. Or to what Giana said outside the plane.

Or at least…I don’t let my mind go there…very much.

“Frank,” I murmur, suddenly curious. “Have you…flown a lot? On planes?”

“You mean instead of just with my superpowers?” he asks, dry.

And I laugh, swatting him a bit but not saying anything else, just waiting for him to go on.

“Sure,” he murmurs, dropping his head a little so that I can feel his mouth moving against my hair, just barely. “We were on planes all the time. You know…the three of us.”

“You know, you can talk about him,” I whisper. “He was a part of your life for a long time. You don’t have to not mention him for my sake.”

“Neither do you,” Frankie replies, equally soft.

And I nod, accepting it. Even if…it’s not something I’m ready to take him up on just yet.

But then Frankie moves on, I think needing it, telling me some stories about the places he’s been on mafia jobs, casually leaving out the details of my husband and the reasons he was there. But I fall a bit under his spell then, hearing about the beauty of the California coastline, the heat and the stark wonder of Sicily, the haunted majesty of Prague.

“I didn’t know you’d been all over,” I whisper, kind of shocked. “Did you have a favorite?”

“Yeah,” he whispers, more relaxed now, and I can hear the smile come into his voice. “I liked Pittsburgh. We went when we were like…fifteen.”

“What?” I ask, laughing and twisting backwards slightly to better look up at him. “All those amazing places – and you liked Pittsburgh best?”

“Sure,” he says, smiling down into my face, softly petting my hair. “That’s where I first learned about Daisy.”

My eyes go wide. “What?”

“That’s where I first started reading your letters, Bambs,” Frankie says, pursing his lips a little at this confession, I think not sure how I’ll take it. “I’m sorry – I…I think I should have told you before but…”

He hesitates then, taking a deep breath and running his hand once more over the length of my hair.

“I read every email you ever wrote to him, Iris,” Frankie confesses, his whole heart in his eyes. “And I’m sorry, if that was…not what you wanted…but…” he shakes his head, “they were so bright – so…kind. They brought a great deal of light to my world when I really needed it and…I couldn’t resist.”