Chapter 9
And Mitchell sat quietly at the far end of the table.
He was no longer the person deciding which stories the family was allowed to tell.
That evening, as I was leaving, he followed me onto the porch.
The air smelled of rain and pine needles.
“Kate.”
I stopped.
He put his hands in his pockets.
“I didn't think it would go that far.”
I looked at him.
“What?”
“The whole flight-school thing.”
I waited.
He stared toward the driveway.
“You were always the smart one. Grandpa always talked about you going places. Then you got into the Academy, and everybody made such a big deal out of it.”
I said nothing.
He rubbed the back of his neck.
“I guess I liked having something you couldn't do.”
I felt a deep sadness.
Not for myself.
For the brother who had apparently spent nearly two decades competing in a contest I hadn't known existed.
“So you invented it,” I said.
He nodded.
“Yeah.”
The admission hung between us.
Then he said, “I'm sorry.”
I studied him.
“Do you understand what you did to Tyler?”
His eyes dropped.
“He believed you,” I continued. “He respected you. You taught him to dismiss someone who could have helped him, because you needed to feel bigger.”
Mitchell looked away.
“I know.”
“And you taught him that humiliating somebody was the same thing as being funny.”
He wiped a hand over his face.
“I know.”
I took my car keys from my coat pocket.
“I accept that you're sorry.”
He looked relieved.
“But that doesn't mean everything goes back to normal.”
His expression changed.
“What does that mean?”
“It means if you want a relationship with me, you have to stop lying about me. Not just tonight. Everywhere you've told the story.”
He nodded slowly.
“And you need to apologize to Tyler without explaining why you were justified.”
“I will.”
I opened my car door.
“Good.”
Then I drove away.
I didn't know whether Mitchell would change.
I still don't know whether one Thanksgiving can undo seventeen years of resentment.
But I knew something had ended.
And something else had finally begun.
Three days later, Tyler called.
He sounded nervous.
“Aunt Kate?”
“Hey, pilot.”
He laughed.
“Not quite yet.”
“Working on it.”
He hesitated.
“Can I send you my emergency procedures?”
“Absolutely.”
“And maybe we could go over crew coordination?”
“Of course.”
Another pause.
“There's something else.”