Love On Call

Mari frowned as they walked across the green, slowing every few feet so Glenn could return a greeting. For someone so reserved, so private, Glenn had touched many lives. She was woven into the fabric of this place and Mari knew why. Glenn cared for the community as much as she cared for the individuals. This was a place where roots ran deep and Glenn had found her place, somewhere she might do the same, if she was lucky. She just wished she believed more in luck. Glenn was waiting for an answer, and looking at her, it was easy to forget the past and its hold on her life. Mari smiled. “Heights? You mean like tall bridges and rooftops? No, they don’t bother me. We’ve got plenty of overpasses in LA, and I’ve ridden over all of them. Major metropolis, remember?”

“Well, this won’t be exactly like that, but hopefully better.” Glenn grabbed her hand and pulled her down a narrow passage between a jumble of air compressors, tanks, and other equipment into a clearing relatively free of people.

A heavyset, florid-faced man in a bright yellow T-shirt tucked into oil-smeared canvas pants strode toward them. “You’re all set?”

“Yeah,” Glenn said.

He held out a clipboard. “I need you both to sign these waivers right here. You know, the usual. You won’t sue me if we all end up in a tree somewhere.”

Glenn signed without bothering to read anything and handed the clipboard to Mari. “Frank is going to take us up for a ride.”

Mari looked at the huge tangle of ropes and yellow-and-red-striped canvas lying on the ground. It looked exactly like an enormous deflated balloon. Which it was. “In that?”

Her voice squeaked and Glenn laughed. “Once he pumps a little air into it and fires up the boiler, yes.”

“You’re serious?”

“You’re not scared, are you?”

Oh yes, she was, but not of going up in a hot-air balloon. She’d never done it before, never even imagined wanting to do it, but if Glenn was going to be there, she wanted to go too. And that’s what scared her. She wanted to go anywhere Glenn wanted to take her.

Mari looked at the other balloons lifting off around them, most with one or two people aboard who looked like they were actually piloting the craft. Really, how crazy was that—relying on a sheet of cloth tied to an open furnace to fly around in. Frank and another younger man in jeans and a red T-shirt turned on an enormous fan, and the long sheet of colorful canvas began to fill and float above them. Mari was intrigued despite her misgivings. When Frank arranged something that looked a lot like a giant Sterno can under the balloon and lit an open flame, Mari gasped. Flames shot up toward the canvas balloon, which suddenly puffed up and went airborne. Long lines attached to large stakes in the ground kept it prisoner.

“You’re kidding. Flames?”

“The hot air makes the balloon rise.”

Mari gave her a look.

Glenn held out her hand in invitation. “So, want to go for a ride?”

Yes, anything, anywhere, for a few minutes more with Glenn. The past week’s shadows evaporated in the brilliant glow of Glenn’s smile. Crazy or not, Mari gripped Glenn’s hand. “Tell me we’re not insane.”

“I promise you’ll be fine.” Glenn was still grinning, but Mari sensed the seriousness behind her light tone. Glenn could be counted on, no matter what. She knew that in her bones. She’d counted on family, counted on her own body, and both had failed her. She should know better than to count on anyone, anything, but the still strength in Glenn’s gaze told her otherwise. This woman she could trust.

“Then let’s go.” Mari headed for the makeshift set of stairs Frank had pushed up against the wicker basket. They teetered as she climbed, and Glenn steadied her from behind with a hand on her back.

The baskets hanging below the other colorful, gas-filled balloons already floating off in the sky looked tiny from the ground, and when she got inside this one, the basket didn’t look any larger up close. A sign had said the basket held five, but Mari didn’t see how. There was barely a foot of space left over with the three of them inside. She glanced at Glenn, who was watching her with a faint look of amusement.

“This really isn’t funny, you know.”

“You did say you didn’t mind heights.”

“You neglected to mention we’d be up in the air in something the size of a cereal box. And is there even any way to steer this thing?”

“These lines right here help with piloting,” Frank said, climbing in with them. “Of course, they’re only good for a suggestion. Mostly the balloon goes where she wants.”

Mari grimaced but held her protest. She was committed now—no quitting.

Frank began untying the tethers and tossing them down to the ground. The basket bounced like a puppy eager to be let off its leash. “You don’t have to worry, miss. I’ve been piloting this rig since I could hardly see over the top of the basket.”