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Lovemaking was wonderful. I could let myself go completely. The way he responded to me could only be love. That afternoon confirmed what I already knew but didn’t totally trust—we were in love with each other. His affection no longer felt like something surreal that I didn’t deserve.
Our relationship could still be ephemeral, however. I needed to take one day at a time with Flynn. I feared the rug might be pulled out from under me. I was basing so much on him and his invitation to assist on the trip. If it didn’t pan out, I’d be lost.
We lay entwined, talking. “If the trip doesn’t work out, I’m afraid of what will happen to us as a couple,” I admitted.
He pulled back a little and looked at me, moving my hair off my forehead. “What could happen?”
“My passport might not arrive on time. I could get sick. There might be a barricade. If that happened, how would it affect you and me?”
Relaxing against me again, he stroked my hair. “Nothing is going to change the way I feel about you. It would be disappointing if you didn’t go, but I’d be back before you knew it, and we’d simply plan for the next trip.”
“I just hope I’m not being unrealistic thinking I can help you with no experience. It’s like a dream.”
“It is a dream, and you’ll be fine. I’ll teach you what you need to know, okay? You’re smart and interested. That’s all I need.”
I rested against him, hoping it was that easy.
Chapter 6
The passport arrived in the nick of time. I followed to the T a list of needed items that Cindy had prepared for me, and everything fit into a small suitcase.
“If you want to bring anything extra for the townspeople, they like western undergarments and sneakers,” she told me.
An epic body rush passed over me. Undergarments? I had boxes full of utilitarian underpants that I could bring along. Once I got there, if I connected with any of the women in the camp, I’d promise to send them more and fancier ones once I got home.
“What is all this?” Flynn asked when he came to my door to pick me up.
“Um, underwear. Cindy said the women like it.”
Shocked, he looked at the giant suitcase. “That’s all underpants?”
“Bras, too. Do you want to see?”
“No, I believe you. Why did you spend so much money?”
“Flynn, I have to tell you something.” I took him into my room and opened my closet. He saw the boxes packed. Then I opened my chest of drawers, and a cupboard Brian had found to store the overflow. “I like buying underwear.”
I told him the story about my two favorite underwear vendors and about the gifts I’d bought for people over the past few years. With his mouth hanging open, looking at the loot, he fell over backwards onto my bed, holding his stomach, roaring with laughter.
I was mortified, but it was better than if he had been angry about it. There was a tap on the door.
“I guess the secret is out,” Casey said, giggling.
Flynn sat up and reached for me, pulling me onto his lap. “Honestly, this makes you so human. I think it’s adorable. And the women at the clinic will love it.”
Flynn’s office manager drove us to the airport in a large utility van that held the supplies we needed—things Flynn didn’t want to ship in advance. A group met us at the airport and took over inventorying and categorizing everything.
I’d never been through security before, and that was an experience. The plane ride was a brutal fourteen hours with two stops. The first six hours of the flight were enjoyable, a chance for Flynn and me to talk, plan, and share.
The next hours were spent trying to stay focused. Even Flynn seemed to struggle to stay comfortable and agreeable. We landed in Beirut and got on a small plane for the short ride up the coast. I clenched onto the arms of the chair with my eyes shut tight.
After fifteen minutes, I know I heard Lucy say,You’re not going to join me yet. Relax.I grinned, relaxing immediately.
Once we landed in Tripoli, my feet on steady ground helped with the overall anxiety I felt. The stench, hubbub, and noise of the city got to me right away, but after hearing Lucy’s voice, I let it float right over me.
“You okay?” Flynn asked, taking my hand.
I nodded, afraid if I opened my mouth, I wouldn’t be able to stop whining. It was a warm seventy degrees. I was dressed for winter in Detroit. I’d been warned ahead of time that in Tripoli, women were expected to cover their bodies, so no tank tops or shorts for me. I would wear scrubs and a lab coat all the time, and with it would gain a certain amount of respect from the people. They’d know I was foreign by my hair.
