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There was something in her eyes that regarded him like he was something special… instead of just a guy. He could see the avid interest in her eyes – and that was doing something to him, until he realized what she was saying.
“What’s it like there? I’ve always wanted to travel but never had a chance. What’s it like to fly a plane? I imagine it’s like a bird or a leaf on the wind… do you get bounced around a lot? Are you ever scared? Do you feel like an angel? How high have you flown? Do you fly really fast? Are you ever frightened to land? Have you crashed a plane or done tricks? Have you…”
“Whoa…” he chuckled, smiling widely in wonder at this new glimpse of her personality – completely enchanted.
“Sorry,” she said meekly, putting her eyes down.
“No,” he interrupted, reaching across the table to touch her hand – and her eyes shot up to his as she slowly pulled her hand away. “It’s okay. I just can’t answer any of your questions if I can’t get a word in edgewise. So, let’s start with the first few…”
She nodded, smiling hesitantly.
“What is Afghanistan like?” she repeated quietly. “I’ve always imagined it to be some desert oasis but…”
“It is,” he agreed, nodding his thanks as Carole set down a few more plates. “Dig in, and we’ll talk while we are eating so it’s hot.”
He waited until she picked up her fork and began to eat, before speaking between bites.
“Afghanistan is gorgeous in a strange and savage way. There are deserts, mountains, and it’s arid in several places… but there are also some parts of it that are so green it will make you wonder where it came from. A few months ago, I flew over a sea of poppies that made it look like a crayon had melted on the earth’s surface…”
He saw the wonder in her eyes and the smile on her face as she obviously hung on every word he said.
“Have you ever travelled and wondered why you never stopped to look around before?” he whispered softly, knowing it sounded crazy. “That’s what it is like for me. I never wanted to go, but when I got there? I was stunned and wished to see more of the land from thirty-thousand feet, because up there? It’s just you, the plane, the earth, and the sky.”
“Thirty-thousand feet in the air…” she breathed in amazement. “Isn’t it scary?”
“Sometimes being on the ground, around other people, is far scarier…” he said quietly, realizing it was true. As he met her eyes, he saw her nod in silent agreement and complete understanding.
“My home is my cockpit and a single twin bunk – both items that a war or a mistake could take away at any moment,” he confessed softly and feeling sad suddenly because it was a hard thing to admit. “I always dreamed of a perfect suburban life, someday having a home… only to have it pulled from me, leaving me with no roots of my own.”
“What do you mean?”
“My family sold off my childhood home long ago. I have nothing of my own here. My sister has her life and is starting a relationship with a friend of mine. With being stationed overseas, there’s no reason for me to buy a place because it would sit empty… and it’s hard to realize that in order to come back home? I’d have to get a hotel.”
He swallowed nervously, realizing just how accurate it was.
“I’m an American, employed by the government, but a visitor and guest to my own country with zilch to my name,” Killian admitted, bothered more and more by the hard facts. “The money was nothing because I have plenty of that… but I’m lacking sorely in a few other key spots. So yeah, that’s me in a nutshell. How about you?”
He turned the tide on her quickly, hoping she would open up and talk to him… maybe giving him a friend to talk to when he went back home. Destiny looked at him for a moment, before taking a sip of her coffee…
“I had a horrifying childhood,” she began softly, her voice hesitant, “One that I ran away from in desperate attempt at self-preservation. I have no roots of my own or at least they are barely beginning to grow, because it’s so hard to start from nothing… and it shouldn’t be.”
He nodded in silent understanding.
“People judge you, label you, and condemn you before ever giving you a chance,” she whispered painfully, each word raw as if it was dragged from her very soul. “I used to want a big fancy home, a huge family, and a job where I could work hard to move up – allowing me some sense of self-satisfaction…”
“There’s nothing wrong with wanting any of that,” he interjected, proud of her desire to work for her goals, not expecting a handout.
“Then why is it so hard? Why is it so difficult to have nice things, to have ambition? To want more for yourself?” she countered in frustration, and it surprised him at the impassioned plea for equality and a chance.
“Do you have a home, Destiny?” he asked gingerly, realizing that this woman might indeed be homeless or worse off than he realized – and that was a shame.
He really liked her and got the impression that she was swimming against a riptide with a weight around her ankle… but still swimming, because she wasn’t a quitter. She was a fighter that was in a tough spot – and he respected that.
“I do,” she smiled tearfully, looking so smug and proud of herself in that moment that he couldn’t help but return her smile. “I saved up every dime for nine years to have the down-payment needed and bought my home six months ago. It’s not much, but it’s mine and no one can take it away.”
Yep, this breathtakingly pretty woman before him was indeed a fighter and tenacious. Her eyes were a warm greenish-brown shade that reminded him of those gardens near Kabul. That stubborn greenery would exist even in the most brittle conditions… and thrived, because it couldn’t do otherwise.
“Then you have more than me,” he admitted.
