He smirked. “That reminds me of a girl I met once. Her name was Sydney. Sydney Opera House. She had amazing, supple tits.”

I smacked him playfully. “So, Sydney then?”

He took the phone. “Yes. Qantas Flight 853, leaving in two hours. Let’s do it.”

I SHOULD’VE KNOWN that nothing with Captain Carter Clynes was predictable.

We’d settled into our first-class seats as the aircraft cruised. It was nighttime, and the plane was dark. I’d dozed off and had woken up to the sight of Carter watching me.

“Were you watching me sleep?”

“I was.”

“And what were you thinking?”

“I was thinking about how easy it was to slip that ring on your finger while you were out.”

My heart seemed to jump. I straightened up in my seat and when I looked down, a massive cushion-cut rock sat wrapped around my ring finger.

Covering my mouth with my other hand, I said, “Oh my God.”

“Kendall Sparks, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife during our trip to Australia?” He’d whispered it, wanting to keep this a private moment between the two of us.

“Yes. Yes!” I shook my head over and over. “This wasn’t what I expected.”

“I know.” He lifted my hand to his mouth and kissed it. “Do you like the ring?”

“It’s phenomenal.”

“It’s Carter with an ‘I’ in the middle.” He winked.

It took me a few.

Oh!

Cartier.

We embraced each other for several minutes.

“I love you so much, Carter.”

“I love you, too, Mrs. Clynes.” He grinned. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Yes. Anything.”

“Will you still love me when I’m sixty-four?”

“That’s an odd age. Why did you pick that?”

He winked. “Beatles song, babe. When I’m Sixty-Four.”

”I should have known. Don’t ever change, you crazy man.” Puling him into a kiss, I spoke over his lips, “I love you so much! I can’t wait to marry you Down Under.”

We kissed for several minutes. The people around us seemed to be oblivious to our life-changing moment.

Carter broke the kiss. “You know…speaking of down under…I’d love to go there right now. I suddenly have to use the bathroom. Wanna come with?”

“After all this time, how are we only just now about to join the mile-high club together? You’re a pilot, and I was a stewardess for Christ’s sake!”

Carter beamed. “Never too late to start.”

“COME ON, PICK IT UP! You don’t want me to win the race, do you?” I looked back at my son, who trailed behind me. We were both wearing matching helmets as we scooted along the empty road. I was on my Segway, while he rode a traditional child’s scooter.

Days like these, I never regretted retiring from the airline. I couldn’t imagine missing out on these precious moments with Brucey.

Today, I took him to visit the old neighborhood at Silver Shores. We’d moved to a bigger house about two miles away when he was a year old but still came back to visit the residents all the time.

I pointed to my old condo. “We took you home to that house right there when you were a baby.”

“That was where I was made?”

Unsure as to how to answer that, I said, “Technically, you were made in Australia, but you were born here.”

“Australia?”

“Yes.”

“I’m like a Koala bear?”

“I guess so.” I chuckled.

Kendall had found out she was pregnant with Brucey shortly after we returned from our private Australian wedding. We’d gotten married under a sunset just outside the Sydney Opera House.

We lived modestly in a typical one-level, three-bedroom house in Boca. Kendall was adamant that she didn’t want our son to grow up like she did. She didn’t want him placing so much value on material things.

Kendall was loving being a stay-at-home mom. Meanwhile, I took a contract pilot position for a private jet company that allowed me to choose when I wanted to work. It was the best of both worlds; I still got to fly but on my own terms.

As we continued down the road, I was careful to look out for any oncoming cars.

I pointed to Gordon’s old condo. “See this house here?”

“Yeah?”

“That was where your Grandpa Gordon lived.”

“Gordon? Like Trash Gordon from Sesame Street?”

“Same name, yes. Your grandfather was a great man, way cooler than Trash Gordon. Someday, when you’re a little older, I’ll tell you a really neat story about him and how you got your name.”

“Okay.”

Slowing down, I asked, “You tired? Want to take a snack break?”

He nodded.

We ended up stopping under a shady tree. I took out the juice boxes and various snacks that Kendall had packed.

Brucey looked up at me. He had my dark hair and Kendall’s blue eyes. “Daddy, tell me one of your stories.”

“Which one?”

“Lucy.”

I smiled and mussed up his hair. Starting when he was about two years old, I’d make up stories to tell him at bedtime. Sometimes, he’d randomly ask me to recite one during the day. Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds was his favorite one, partly because—as he always pointed out—Lucy rhymed with Brucey.

“Okay. Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds, it is.”

Letting out a deep breath, I put my arm around him and started.

“Once upon a time, there was a girl named Lucy who lived in the sky…”

THE END