Read Online A Perfect Life nd Other Stories by Elaine Burnes - Free Book Online Page B

for thirty years
and that she lived in Jamaica Plain, one of Boston’s gay-friendly
neighborhoods.
    “I live in Provincetown,” Denny said. “We’re practically
neighbors.”
    The information settled on Alice’s face like a
weight as she stared at the ground. A brief smile formed and she glanced up
quickly then away. “Yes.”
    Even if they had been alone, Denny might not have pursued the
question she was partly dying to know and partly dreading—are you gay? Whether
it had anything to do with Vanessa, she would think about only later, for in
the moment, Vanessa was forgotten. For now, Denny sat next to Alice, a calm, if
puzzling, presence, with her quiet words and soft face that smiled with shyness
and a certain sadness. She remembered that this was what it should feel like,
attraction. A pulse quickening, heat rising on her cheeks, breath catching. For
now, it was enough.
     
    AFTER LUNCH, THEY hiked down an old mining road behind the ridge.
It wasn’t as scenic, but was easier going, and Erin didn’t stop as often. Denny
held back to ensure no stragglers got left behind. Alice joined her.
    “I think you’re very courageous, flying toward that mountain every
day.”
    Alice spoke without preamble. They’d been walking in silence,
enjoying the birdsong, or so Denny thought. Alice had been thinking about her.
She shrugged and was about to deny it when Alice continued.
    “‘Courage is the price that life exacts for granting peace.’”
    Denny blinked at the sheen of familiarity. “Amelia Earhart.”
    Alice smiled. “Yes, I wondered if you would know that.”
    “It’s on coffee cups and T-shirts all over P’town.”
    “Oh.” Alice clasped her hands behind her back to lift the weight
of the pack off her shoulders.
    Denny regretted deflating Alice’s enthusiasm. “‘Each time we make
a choice, we pay/With courage to behold resistless day,/And count it fair,’”
Denny said. “That part’s not on the mugs.”
    Alice smiled but did not meet Denny’s gaze. “I had a feeling there
was more to you than a slogan.”
    When a plane climbs through clouds, the pilot fights for control
in the turbulence. Visibility is zero, so she focuses on her instruments. Then
she breaks through, not with a blast or shudder, but with sudden, unexpected
calm. Tense muscles take a moment to relax. The light is clear, the white cloud
tops brilliant. It is a moment of complete and utter clarity, and the closest
Denny comes to believing in God. She didn’t know why she felt it now, walking a
dusty track down a small ridge, with the sky and the mountain obscured. But she
knew better than to ignore it.
    “I’m off tomorrow,” she said impulsively. “Would you like to go
flying with me?”
    “You fly on your day off?”
    “Flying isn’t what I do,” Denny said. “I fly, therefore I am.”
    Alice laughed and accepted the invitation.
     
    DENNY AND ALICE rode in the back of the van to the airfield with
the other flightseers. While Denny checked her plane, Alice snapped photos.
    They waited while the others took off before Denny taxied her
smaller Cessna down the runway. She was keenly aware of the tighter space in
the cockpit. Alice’s shoulder was mere inches from her own, which felt
unnaturally warm.
    “We won’t be going to the mountain, if that’s okay,” Denny said
when they were airborne. “We need to leave that for the paying crowd. There’s
something I’d like to show you, though.” She turned the plane north, toward the
Kantishna Hills.
    Below and to the west, a flat plain swept to the horizon, dotted
with kettle ponds and striped with ribbons of streams that glittered in the
morning light. Ahead, low mountains rippled in cascading ridges.
    After several minutes, Denny circled what looked like a short
stretch of dirt road along a ridgetop. Explaining that it was an old airstrip
from an abandoned mine, she dropped the plane and skittered down the dirt
track. She cut the engine. Slowly, the hum and vibration