The Woman in 3B - Eliza Lentzski Page 0,54

We’re so much higher in the air then,” I explained. Plus I’m working—not exactly window gazing. And I can see the whole horizon here.” I waved my arm across the expansive view for affect. “You get to see all of this in panorama, not through a tiny porthole.”

Anissa rewarded my exuberance with a dimpled grin.

“Why did you decide you wanted to fly?” I asked. “You’re in airplanes all the time, too.”

“It was mostly my brother, Sam. He wanted a plane for God knows why, but he needed someone to split the costs with. My sister Aleyna and her husband weren’t interested, so I felt an obligation to help him out. I figured if I was going to own half a plane, I might as well learn how to fly it. Now, I think I’m up here more than him. I travel so much for my job,” she continued, “but I don’t actually get to enjoy the ride. Up here, even though we’re moving, I actually feel like time slows down.” She paused and chuckled. “And now I’m rambling.”

“I like it,” I jumped in. “I like learning all of these things about you.”

“I like telling you,” she smiled in return.

“Good,” I said with finality. “I’m glad we got that out of the way. But really—where are you taking me?”

A coy smile spread across Anissa’s features. “The nineteenth century.”

CHAPTER TEN

The little plane touched down smoothly on the paved runway. I considered it a small victory that I didn’t make any embarrassing noises when Anissa applied the brakes. My body leaned forward and my safety harness dug into my chest. The plane’s engine roared and the prop continued to spin while we taxied toward the hangar.

Anissa had continued to play coy instead of telling me where she was taking us. I peered through the front windshield to gain my bearings. A sign hung from the open doorway of the metal hangar.

“Mackinac Island Municipal Airport,” I read aloud.

“Ever been?” Anissa asked.

I nodded. “Once. But it’s been a while.”

My parents had brought my sister and me to the northern island on vacation when I was little, but I hadn’t been back since. Being an island, the only way of accessing the popular tourist destination was by small plane or ferryboat. Ferry service ended in winter when Lake Huron froze over, but braver souls could reach the nine-miles-around island by snowmobile.

Mackinac Island State Park covered eighty percent of the island. The remaining twenty percent was a small residential area in the center of the island, the airport into which we’d flown, and a picturesque Victorian Era-inspired downtown that hugged one side of the island’s coastal shore.

Towering above it all, built into the limestone bluffs, was Fort Mackinac, an actual fortified military outpost built by the British during the American Revolutionary War. I could remember visiting the living history museum with my family, gawking at the costumed interpreters in their military uniforms, and covering my ears when they shot their guns and cannon.

Anissa cut the engine and hit a few more buttons and levers on the instrument panel. When she removed her headgear, I took that as a sign to do the same. She unbuckled her safety harness and jumped out onto the pavement and I followed along.

Anissa stood tall and stretched her arms above her head. She took a long breath and loudly exhaled. “I totally love it here,” she approved. “It’s one of my favorite places. It’s a total escape from the hustle and bustle of my regular life.”

“How many other girls have you brought up here?” I questioned.

I didn’t feel like part of a routine, but this was the exact kind of showy thing you did to impress someone.

She winced at my question. “Would you believe me if I said you were the only one?”

I smirked. “Nope.”

“Well, a girl can try.”

I cocked an eyebrow and waited for a real answer.

“Okay, fine,” she relented. She shoved big yellow blocks behind the plane’s wheels so it wouldn’t roll away. “You’re number three.”

My posture softened. Three. That didn’t seem so bad.

“All the other girls I invited refused to go up in my tiny plane.”

My mouth fell open in silent shock and protest.

Anissa held up her hands like a shield. “I’m kidding! I’m kidding!” she squeaked.

I tried to shove her, playfully, but her arms wrapped around my waist and she pulled me tight to her. My posture remained defensive as I turned away from her like a petulant child.

Her lips went to my cheek. “I’m sorry,” she murmured