Nova Scotia

Chapter 3

Chapter 3:

        The connection flight was unbelievably comfortable. The plane was small, yeah, but the seats were warm (not as though someone had already sat there; it was like they'd been warmed before the flight especially for us). There wasn't any food, since it was a short flight but Dallas got me another glass of wine, and then one for himself. We toasted (though I wasn't really sure to what) and drank happily. The two hour flight passed by in a blur, and soon, we were being told to fasten our seat belts and get ready to land.

        I hadn't noticed Dallas' reaction to the landing on the previous flight because of how he kept me so preoccupied by talking my ear off. Now that I thought about it, this was probably why.

        His face paled when out conversation faded away. I leaned my head back and closed my eyes, but opened them instantly when I felt his hand grab mine in a grip so right, I was worried he'd break something. I opened my eyes and frowned at him. Dallas' eyes were wide open and his bottom lip was trembling slightly in the most adorable way.

        "Dallas?" I whispered.

        "Yeah?"

        "What's wrong?"

        "I-I'm scared of the landing bit," he whispered. "Terrified, really."

        I raised my eyebrows. Part of me found it very hard to believe that someone like Dallas could be scared of something as simple as landing in a plane. Another part of me found it absolutely adorable that he was scared at all.

        "Okay," I said to him. "Just focus on my voice, okay? Listen to me talk. You're good at that."

        He smiled weakly. "I like listening to you talk," he mumbled.

        "Good," I told him. "Then listen to me now, okay? Only me."

        He nodded.

        "I can't wait to get to Bedford," I said. "I can't wait to see my grandma again and eat her blueberry pie. It's honestly the best thing in the world, seriously. When we get there, you should come over and taste it. It's so, so, so amazing."

        "I like blueberry pie."

        "Doesn't everyone?" I grinned at him. "My grandma's pretty amazing, too. She's one of those grandmas that tries to be hip, you know? But instead of embarrassing me, she actually is hip. It's incredible. She has the most amazing fashion sense, too."

        "What's your grandma's name?" he asked curiously.

        "Sheela."

        "Oh, you're kidding!" he exclaimed, sitting up right instantly.

        I frowned. "What?"

        "Grandma Sheela's my next door neighbor," he explained, grinning. "She does make sick blueberry pie."

        "Is she picking you up, too?" I asked.

        "Nah," he said. "I can bus home from Halifax. It's a twenty minute drive with barely any stops between. My mom and sisters are all at work, or they'd have picked me up. "

        "What about your dad?"

        The plane touched ground. Dallas' grip on my hand (which I was still very, very aware of) tightened. "Lung cancer," he said, clenching his jaw. "Three years ago."