Playboy Pilot
A resposta está no céu. A resposta está no céu.
She just kept repeating the same phrase over and over again.
The answer is in the sky. The answer is in the sky.
SINCE IT WAS MORNING before I finally crashed, it was late afternoon when I woke up. My flight wasn’t until the following day, so I had plenty of time to try to figure out what Maria was trying to tell me. She was out at the market when I went looking for her, so I went for a walk on the beach in an attempt to clear my head.
After about a mile of walking in the blaring sun, I came across a lone chair sitting at the water’s edge. It dawned on me that the last time I’d walked this beach was with Kendall. Almost at this exact spot, we’d come across two random chairs. I hoped that this wasn’t a sign…that I’d only need one chair from now on.
Feeling forlorn, I sat down to try to make some sense of my crazy life. Leaning my head back, I closed my eyes and let the sun shine down on my face while I recalled what had transpired the last time I sat in this very spot with Kendall. It played out in my head like a movie. Our chairs were facing each other, and we were playing footsy in the sand. I asked her why she was on the trip, and she had initially been vague. I’d soon find out that she was avoiding telling me her secret because she was embarrassed to admit the truth. She thought I would see her as shallow and desperate.
But the real truth was, before I met Kendall, I was the one who was living my life shallow and desperate. Going from woman to woman, never wanting to stay in one place too long. The woman who thought she was desperate turned out to be what I was in desperate need of. True love.
Not only had Kendall told me her secret in this spot, but I’d also opened up about Lucy. It was the first time I’d ever told anyone about Lucy. I’d never really ev
en spoken to my parents about everything that had happened. Yet I’d shared my demons with Kendall, and despite it all, she’d opened up her heart anyway. At least I thought she did.
The sun felt so good heating my face. The sound of the waves lightly meeting the surf lulled me to relax. I let out a deep breath and allowed the beach to wash away some of my stresses. There was no point tearing myself up over the past anymore. The only thing I could control was the future now.
My future.
A resposta está no céu. A resposta está no céu.
Maria Rosa’s words kept playing in my head over and over.
The answer is in the sky. The answer is in the sky.
What the hell was she trying to tell me?
The answer is in the sky. The answer is in the sky.
Using my hand to shield my eyes, I looked up into the sun. Suddenly, the answer struck me in a moment of clarity.
The answer is in the sky.
Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds.
Maria was trying to tell me to go see Lucy. How could I have been so dense?
I’D CALLED IN A FEW FAVORS to make it happen. Considering I took every available flight that anyone asked me to take over the last five years, it wasn’t as difficult as I thought to get myself coverage for five days. After my flight back to the states today, I’d be flying standby back to Michigan. It had been more than a year since I was home and even longer since I’d visited Lucy. In fact, the last time I’d gone to Lucy’s grave was…never.
The time had come.
I didn’t know how or why, but Maria knew. The answer is in the sky.
IT WAS A TYPICAL late March morning in Michigan. Snow covered the ground, and ice covered the snow. My footsteps crunched beneath me as I walked on the frozen grass to row sixty-eight in the Crestwood Section of the Fairlawn Cemetery.
When the numbered stakes in the ground reached the designated row, I looked around and took a deep breath. Luckily, there was no one in sight as far as I could see. I was relieved because I was definitely not ready to run into Lucy’s family. Seeing anyone today was more than I could handle.
Lucy’s row had about twenty headstones. I walked slowly, reading the names on each until I came across hers.
Lucy Langella
July 10th, 1986 – September 7th, 2004
Pain sliced across my chest. I sucked in a jagged breath before reading the epitaph carved in script beneath her name.
Sometimes love is for a moment.