Too Late to Win Me Back, Mr. Billionaire novel · Chapter 32 of 32
Chapter 32: Two Seats
Kit left the room. I opened the envelope.
It was a drawing on heavy watercolor paper, the best one she'd ever done.
A red-and-white plane flying low over a gray sea, with the sun coming up behind it.
In the left seat, a brown bird with a little scar over one eye.
In the right seat, a big shaggy bear with wings glued on, holding a thermos.
Out ahead of them, off the nose, a fat yellow chick flew a tiny yellow plane of her own.
She was flying her own way, looking back over her shoulder at them.
There were no words on it at all.
I sat in the hangar kitchen and held it for a long time.
We got married on the last Saturday in May, in the hangar.
There was nowhere else on the island it could have been.
We pushed both planes out onto the ramp, nose to nose.
We strung the work lights in the rafters and set out every folding chair from the grange hall.
Sawyer's grandmother cooked for two days. Chowder, three hams, lobster rolls, and nine pies, none of them blueberry.
"Your mother's recipe is the only one I'd allow," she told me. "And it was terrible. So no."
The whole island came.
The co-op president.
The harbormaster and his family.
The old man in the wool cap came with his grandson.
They'd brought the Kit & Kaboodle around to the north beach and tied her off there with green ribbons on her rail.
The two feuding brothers, who arrived in the same truck.
The minister did the service in front of Sawyer's grandfather's bench, which the mechanic had repainted green for the occasion.
The transplant coordinator came over on the morning ferry in a flowered dress. She cried through the whole thing.
My lawyer came, with her reading glasses on the beaded chain.
She brought a pie.
The pie was for Sawyer's grandmother.
They'd become friends by phone.
I wore a plain white dress that came to my knees, and my flying boots.
No veil. No pearls.
Kit walked me down the aisle between the folding chairs.
She wore green, and her flight jacket over it, and she held my arm the whole way like she was the one keeping me up.
Maybe she was.
At the end of the aisle, Sawyer stood by the bench in a dark suit his grandmother had let out across the shoulders.
His beard was trimmed and his hands were shaking.
I'd never seen his hands shake. Not in fog, not in a storm with the lights out.
Kit put my hand in his.
"She's yours," she said. "No returns."
"Kit."
"I'm just saying. We don't do returns."
The whole hangar laughed.
The minister kept it short. He'd learned.
Sawyer said his vows without notes.
The rest of this chapter is part of the paid portion of the series. Chapters 1–16 of Too Late to Win Me Back, Mr. Billionaire are free to read — start from the beginning, then unlock the rest with coins in the app.
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