Free Coming Attractions by Bobbi Marolt Page B

grabbed the bag. Helen put on her headset. “Westchester tower, this is KNP twenty-three ninety. The wind is kicking us around and we’re returning for landing.”
    The plane continued with fitful rocks and dips during their flight. Once more, the Princess dropped and Helen cursed the turbulence. She hated wind when flying and understood the horrors it could present. She was once a passenger with her father when they were snatched from the sky and forced to make an emergency landing in a rocky field. She tasted the terror of grazing a grove of trees and not knowing if the landing gear was intact. Her father had handled the plane through to an abrupt stop, but the force had broken Helen’s leg and her father’s wrist. It could have been much worse.
    On her approach to Westchester, the wings tipped left and then right, but she brought the plane in like the professional she was. When the landing gear hit the runway, she sighed with relief.
    “We’re down,” she said and made the short taxi back to the tarmac.
    “I’m sorry I spoiled your day,” Cory said before they exited the plane.
    “You spoiled nothing, but you should have told me of your fear and I shouldn’t have assumed you wouldn’t mind flying.” She nodded toward the bag. “Still empty, huh?”
    “Fortunately.” She unbuckled her seat belt. “Can we leave now?”
    “Yeah.”
    *
    Cory’s color came back and she was calm in the car. Helen nearly laughed when she remembered how quickly she’d snatched the barf bag from the door. At the same time, she was thankful she didn’t have to break out the cleaning products.
    “I guess we threw each other a curve today,” Cory said. “It’s beyond terrific that you’re a licensed pilot, but I don’t know if I’d ever be able to share it with you.”
    “Ah, that’s okay. I can’t play a piano very well. That kind of evens us.” She took hold of Cory’s hand and rested both on the gear shifter. “Look, don’t hold back on me in the future. I can’t read your mind.”
    “I know.” She turned to Helen. “Will you come home with me?”
    “Yes, but I insist on cleaning our brunch mess while you play something classical for me on your piano.” She turned off the parkway and onto Seventy-Ninth Street.

Chapter Nine
     
    Cory had just completed a short classical piece when Helen placed the final dishes into the dishwasher and wiped the counter. She grabbed a chrysanthemum from the vase and joined Cory at the piano. She placed the flower atop the instrument. Cory smiled up at her and continued playing.
    “Do you like this?” she asked Helen.
    “Yes. It’s romantic.”
    “I wrote this when I was in the seventh grade. My music teacher loathed it.”
    “He or she had no taste, then. Have you composed more?”
    “No.” She finished the song in the upper register. Sounds that mimicked wind chimes surrounded Helen. “Composition is too difficult for me. I’d rather play or conduct.” She walked to Helen’s chair and sat on the chair arm. “My next solo appearance is tomorrow, in Buffalo, and then I’ll do a two-night show with the Lansing Symphony Orchestra on Tuesday and Wednesday.” She twisted Helen’s hair with her fingers.
    Her touch was sensuous, something more than “Hello, it’s nice that you’re visiting with me.” Helen’s flesh warmed too quickly to her liking. She stopped Cory’s hand, but another part of her wanted her to continue. That simple touch awakened more of her than their kiss had done.
    “If you’re trying to seduce me, it won’t work,” Helen said.
    Cory only smiled her beguiling smile and said nothing more. She stood up, pulled Helen to her feet, and walked out of the room alone.
    Helen stood staring at the large doorway. Was she supposed to go with her? She certainly didn’t want to look like a needy puppy that followed her mistress everywhere. She waited and took a closer look at each poster and then the picture of the Queen, before Cory called to