Page 49 of The Best Bad Decision

“No,” she sighs. “Not unless my mum can get the time off work.”

“But I can still meet you while you’re here,” I say. “Text me the dates and I’ll make sure I’m in town.”

“I will,” she promises. “I actually wanted to talk to you about Christmas, though.”

Someone walks into the crew lounge and I look up, offering a finger wave when I recognise a first officer I’ve flown with a handful of times. She returns the wave and immediately makes her way to the coffee machine in the opposite corner of the room, and I turn my attention back to Amie, who is pouring boiling water into her mug.

I raise an eyebrow, silently urging her to continue.

“They just swapped me onto a New York right before Christmas Eve,” she says. “I know Mae and I are flying out to Phoenix on the twenty-first—but why don’t you meet me in New York and come back to London with me to surprise her? If you can, I mean—if you’re free. If you’re not flying somewhere else.”

“I’ll be free,” I say, halting her ramble. “I’ll make sure of it. Just text me the time and date.”

“I can get your ticket to Phoenix with us,” she says. “I don’t know if you have any flight benefits with Air Albia.”

“I don’t—I’d appreciate that,” I reply. “I’ll send you my credit card details for it.”

Amie waves a hand at the phone, adon’t worry about it, and I make a mental note to figure out a way to pay her back later.

“My transfer is green-lit,” I continue after a beat. “For Boston. I won’t be there for another six months, but then I’ll be closer.”

She smiles, tentatively at first, and then with her whole face.

“We’ll be able to come to you more.” She grins. “We can see you more. Or maybe we could move to Boston.”

What the fuck.That isn’t the plan. That was never in the plan. Whateverthe planis.

“No, Amie, you can’t.”

“Why not? I could commute, or I could get a job at another airline, I could—”

“You’re not commuting from Boston to London, Amie.” I put my foot down. “And you’re not moving. You have everything in London: your job, seniority, your friends, your mom. You need that.Maisyneeds that.”

“We don’t have you.” She points out quietly.

Yet.

“I won’t let you move to Boston. If anyone’s moving, it’ll be me.”

“You’re already uprooting everything,” she mumbles, eyes downcast.

“Of course I am. You’re my girls. I’d do anything for you.”

We chat for another few minutes—a short call for us—and then I have to sign in for my flight.

I head to the gate with a spring in my step. I already knew I’d see my girls for Christmas, but now I get an extra few days—and hopefully, many more after that. And that makes all the difference.

twenty-eight

Amie

Amie

Hey @ROO can you have Maisy for me tomorrow night? They stiffed me on the last day of my reserve and K is still in Eastbourne and Lo has her date

Mum can have her for the second night but she’s working tomorrow and can’t swap

ROO

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