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She sighed, before her excitement started up again. “Then the entire town is having a parade, a huge one with Babe Ruth in your roadster—Josie’s Ladies Aid Society is taking care of that—and games for the kids in the park across the street. Jacob has set up a sailing contest, and people can bowl, and play pool, and eat, and go to the amusement park, and then that evening, everyone can come out to the resort. We’re having a barbecue and a dance-off on an outside dance floor with Chinese lanterns and fireworks.” She took a deep breath and asked, “What do you think?”
Before he could answer, she said, “Oh, there’s one more thing. I’ve already put ads in the Minneapolis and St. Paul newspapers. The resort is already full, so are most of the other resorts and hotels around town, so I have your employees working on a few rooms upstairs, so you can have overnight guests here, too.” Scrunching up her shoulders, she held up one hand, with her index finger and thumb an inch apart. “There’s just one other little thing. I don’t have anyone giving airplane rides yet. And I’ve advertised them. It won’t be all day, just short rides in the afternoon. People have to buy tickets for everything, so there’s lots of money to be made.”
Her last statement struck a chord.
“What do you think?” she asked.
“I think it sounds like something the entire town can benefit from, but I want to know one thing.”
“What’s that?”
Eyeing her, he asked, “Why?”
She opened her mouth, but then clamped it shut and closed her eyes. As much as he wanted to cross the room to her, he wanted to know her answer more.
“Why are you doing all that? For the town? For the resort? For the Plantation?”
She nodded. “Yes, to all of them.”
“Why?”
* * *
Twyla wished an answer would form, one other than the one in her head. But it was to no avail. Perhaps that was for the best. The truth was always best.
“Because I love you, Forrest. Years ago you couldn’t love me because I was poor and you were rich, and now you can’t love me because I’m rich and you’re poor. I want you to be successful again. The Plantation to be successful again.”
“You want to make me rich again so I can love you?” He lifted an eyebrow. “Or so you can love me?”
Why did the way he said it sound so awful? Her mouth went dry, and she couldn’t spit out either a yes or a no.
“Which is it?”
Twyla’s mind couldn’t come up with a way to make him understand.
When she didn’t answer, he continued. “What if I told you I don’t want to be rich again? What if I told you I don’t want to run the Plantation? What if I told you my mother’s here so she can run the Plantation and I can fly my airmail route?”
After licking her lips to moisten them, Twyla asked, “You don’t want—”
“No,” he interrupted. “I don’t. I saw how money hurt people. How it’s still hurting people.”
“Forrest, I—”
Standing, he held up one hand. “I’ll go and get Babe Ruth, I’ll give airplane rides and I’ll do whatever else you need me to do that day, but Twyla, next time you want to form a partnership, leave me out of it.”
“Forrest—” Biting her lips together, Twyla stopped before she started begging him to listen. It wouldn’t do any good. Her plan had failed. Nothing would ever keep Forrest here.
She stopped herself from following him to the door, too. The tears were the hardest thing to stop, but she did it, with painful, sheer will. It hurt, too, to walk over to his desk and retrieve her purse from the floor, and to walk to the door. But she did it. She walked all the way to her car and drove all the way home. Then she walked up the stairs to her bedroom, where she threw her purse against the wall, not caring about the contents that scattered on the floor or the picture that fell.
Yes, she did all that. And she’d done one other thing.
She’d chosen money over love. At least that’s what Forrest thought she’d done. In truth, it didn’t matter what she did or what she wanted. Forrest was bound to climb in his plane and fly away. He was a bird that couldn’t be caged. Nothing would ever change that.
Twyla was about to throw herself upon her bed when a knock sounded on her door.
It opened without her response.
“Twyla?” Josie asked. “Are you all right?”
Staring out the window, at the blue water of the lake shimmering in the sunshine, she shook her head. “No, but I will be.”
“Anything I can do?” her sister asked.
“No, there’s nothing anyone can do.”
