Page 18 of Lovestruck at Sundown
This seemed like a touchy subject for William, and I didn’t want to keep pushing him. We also needed to leave. Aaron seemed to agree because he was standing next to my table when I looked up.
“We’re running late, Miss Murphy.”
“But you’re not done yet,” William said, sliding my plate closer to me.
“I’m full. That thing was huge.”
“May I?” He grabbed the wrap from my plate after I nodded. He devoured what was left of it in two quick bites and stood. “Let’s go.” He smiled and grabbed my hand, guiding me back to the car.
Aaron drove with haste to the airport. It was way past sundown, but my dad hadn’t called, so we were good. We could’ve all powered off our phones and said we had taken off earlier. But Aaron’s rigorous and inherent righteousness was his cross to bear.
He would never lie to my dad. But I would. He’d been lying to me my entire life. I owed him a few lies.
When we arrived at the airport, a man was waiting to retrieve the borrowed SUV. Aaron returned the keys and thanked the man, who left promptly after.
As we rolled our suitcases to the hangar, I could sense Aaron was on edge. He kept brushing the back of his neck with his hand, and his gaze was fixed on the floor, very much unlike him.
I stopped in front of the airplane’s steps and said, “William, I’ll be right there.”
“Of course.” He nodded in understanding, and David followed him.
“Aaron, what’s wrong?” He stared at me but said nothing. “Something’s wrong. Tell me.”
“Everything’s fine, Miss.” His tone was husky and deep, as usual, but there was something different about it, a gentle tremble on the surface, almost undetectable. But not for me. I’d known him for years. “We need to leave before your father starts calling. I’m in enough trouble as it is.” That last part felt like a reproach.
And then it hit me. Aaron’s father had been sick for years. Caleb told me in 2006 that he was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. But Aaron rarely visited his family. All he did was work, work, work. He had come to Tel Aviv for Caleb’s funeral, but beforethat, he hadn’t visited his family since 2008. And he only did on that occasion because his family called to let him know his dad had wandered out of the house and wound up in a hospital with a broken wrist and a badly bruised knee.
That had to be it.
“How’s your dad doing?”
“Miss Murphy.” His gaze grew dark and pleading.
“Aaron.” He knew how “persistent” I could be. “I’m not getting on that plane until you tell me what the hell is going on with you.”
He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “He’s in bad shape.”
Aaron was spiraling. I’d never seen him like this in my entire life. He’d been on edge since he arrived in South Africa, but I wondered how much it had to do with the stress of the job and how much about his personal life.
“And why didn’t you check in with your family today? Visit them.”
“It’s been a busy day, as you may have noticed, Miss.” He swallowed. “And I’m on duty.”
“Go see him. We’ll wait for you here.”
“I can’t, Miss.” His tone was cold, almost lifeless. “Your father said we had to leave by sundown, and I still have to call him to let him know we’re running behind schedule. He won’t accept any further delays.”
My phone started ringing inside my bag, and we both stared at each other, knowing who it was.
“Hey, Dad,” I said, my voice clipped. “Yes, I’m boarding the plane as we speak.” I took the first two steps and stomped heavily and repeatedly without climbing them so he would hear it over the phone. “We leave in about an hour or so.” I turned around to face Aaron. “Well, the plane needs to be refueled. But there’ssome issue with the fuel pipes, or so I heard. You know I don’t know much about these technical things. But we’re waiting for that, and then there’s air traffic, you know how it is. The airlines need to stick to their schedules, and we’re given a window to take off in between.”
I waved Aaron off and mouthed,Go. He stared at me, paralyzed.
“Yes, Dad. No more surprises,” I sang. “I promise.” I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. “Yes, Aaron was about to call you, but that’s not necessary anymore. He’s standing right next to me, listening to our conversation. Yes, I will tell him. I’ll see you soon. Bye.”
I ended the call and slid my phone back into my bag.
“Why are you still standing here, Aaron?”
