Page 100 of Flight of Dreams

“Thank you.”

Max checks the clock above the door. It’s 6:30 now. He doesn’t have much time.

He finds Emilie on A-deck stepping out of a passenger cabin. She closes the door behind her, holding a bundle in her arms. It appears to be a pillowcase stuffed with dirty linens. She jumps, startled, when she sees Max. He searches her face, looking for any hint of pleasure or hope or relief. But her expression is carefully guarded, so he must do this with no encouragement from her.

“I have something for you,” he says.

Emilie tilts her head a bit in surprise but says nothing.

“Consider this my apology—for everything—and the only way I have of proving that I do love you.” He pauses. “Please don’t let that word scare you. Scheiße. I can see that I’ve scared you. Oh, well. Too late now. It’s the truth. I love you. And I hope this proves it.”

Max reaches behind him and pulls the now-crumpled envelope from his waistband. He can see his own handwriting and the message he had written for her a couple of days ago. You should have told me sooner. He still believes that. Believes that knowing Emilie’s plans would have changed everything. But the decision is hers to make now. Max holds the envelope out to her, an offering.

Her voice trembles. “Where did you find that?”

“I didn’t find it. I stole it. From the officers’ safe in the control car while Commander Pruss was standing ten feet away. And if that doesn’t show you that I’m an irredeemable fool, nothing will.”

Max takes a step forward and she doesn’t flinch, so he takes another. And another. He is only a foot away, and he slowly raises his hand to the bundle she holds in her hands. He doesn’t break eye contact with her as he spreads wide the mouth of the pillow case and tucks the envelope inside with whatever else she has in there.

He leans close to her ear. Whispers, “You can leave if you want. I won’t stop you. The choice is yours, as it should be. But if you decide to stay, I will be here, Emilie. I will be here for you. I will keep you safe.” A thought occurs to him and he laughs. “You might have to wait for me to get out of prison, of course, if they find out I took those papers. But it changes nothing on my end.”

“Thank you.” Emilie hugs the bundle to her chest, and he sees that she is blinking fast, trying to force a storm of sudden tears into submission. “I don’t deserve this.”

“You deserve much more.”

She shakes her head in argument, but Max raises his hand and lays it on her cheek to stop the movement. He strokes her face with his thumb. And he looks deep into the rust color of her eyes as he leans in for the kiss he has been imagining for the last two hours.

“I love you.” It is a whisper against her lips. “Whatever happens, do not forget that.”

Max kisses her in the middle of the hallway, the bundle pressed between them, not caring who sees. If this is to be the last time he kisses Emilie Imhof, he will make sure it is a kiss worth remembering. He can feel the hand that holds her bundle pressed against his chest, and he hopes she can feel the frantic, hopeful beating of his heart. It takes a moment, but her other hand rises to his arm, his shoulder, and then slides up his neck. When she moves her fingers to play with his earlobe he allows himself a small moan of pleasure. Max locks Emilie against him with one arm around her waist and one hand at the back of her neck. He drinks her in. He consumes her with his kiss, and she surrenders completely to it.

He is almost past the point of having any sense at all when he hears his name being called lightly from behind.

“Max.”

He ignores it at first.

“Max!”

Finally, reluctantly, he pulls away just enough to turn his head and see the stunned, blushing face of Werner Franz who is standing to his left.

“What?” His voice is filled with gravel and passion.

“We’ve been cleared to land. You’re needed in the control car.”

Max pulls Emilie close. He buries his face in the hair behind her ear, then allows himself the luxury of begging just this once. “Stay with me,” he whispers.

THE STEWARDESS

6:45 p.m.—forty minutes until the explosion

She owes Max an answer.

This is all she can think of as he walks away, hands tucked in his pockets. His kiss still warm on her lips. His plea echoing in her ear. Emilie lays three fingers across her mouth. A prayer. An apology.

She can envision two different versions of her future. One is certain and thrilling, filled with adventure and borrowed wealth and a loneliness that the Doehner family, lovely though they are, cannot fill. And the other contains Max. Max and a million unanswerable questions. But it also contains passion and love. Companionship. Lurking danger. Both options are impossible. And yet she must choose.

The Hindenburg will land in less than an hour and the passengers will disperse. The next departure is still scheduled for later that night, and the crew members will have no time to leave the ship. There will be no trips to New York or dalliances in Lakehurst. No time to sleep or even rest. There will be no time to let her subconscious mind sort out this mess. She will have to make the decision, and she will have to live with the consequences.