Just For A Moment by Kate Carley
Chapter 18
Grace pickedup her phone and dialed the number of the first warplane business, Antique Aero. While the call connected and rang, she glanced around the library, letting her mind wander to her sexcapade at the same time her fingers traced the ridge of the table.
“Antique Aero. This is Hank.”
“Good afternoon, Hank. My name is Grace.”
“Hi, Grace. What do ya need?”
“Well, I’ve got a couple things I’m working on. First, I’m looking to sell a restored Stearman. Do you have any suggestions for me?”
“There are a bunch of places you could list a plane like that. What condition is it in?”
“According to the person I’m working with, it’s in pristine condition. It was restored to the original manufacturer’s specs.”
“Interesting. That takes some effort.”
“Yes.” Grace decided she didn’t want to give away too many details. Her lack of knowledge on the topic would allow her to be taken fairly easily.
“What are you asking for her?”
“Oh, I’m not ready to put the final number on it yet. But soon. Do you list planes for sale?”
“We do. You can also list with some local airstrips near you. Where did you say you’re from?
“I didn’t. But I’m in Michigan.”
“You could try listing online at places like Global Plane or Trade Your Wings. There’s one in Michigan called MI Aero. You can list with us. It’s three hundred per month to be on our front page. Prices drop from there.”
“Good to know. I also have another plane, and I’m looking for parts for her. She’s a real beauty. A Grumman F7F Tigercat.”
“You’ve got a Tigercat in need of parts?” Pride filled her chest at the astonishment in Hank’s voice.
“Yeah. I have a list of about two dozen parts. All engine pieces. Of course, I’m only interested in original parts. Any ideas on how I can get my hands on that kind of thing?”
Hank laughed louder than seemed polite, and Grace moved the phone away from her ear. “Must be the air in Michigan,” he finally said still stifling some laughter.
“What do you mean?” Irritation echoed in her question, so she cleared her throat. Hank was trying to help, although why he was laughing still wasn’t clear. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”
“How much do you know about Tigercats?”
“I know they were originally called Tomcats, but that was too sexual for the military, so they changed the name.”
“You’ve obviously done a bit of research, but I’m afraid you didn’t go far enough. There’s a guy up your direction that has a Tigercat, too. He’s been searching for original parts for years now. Maybe if you joined forces with him, between your two planes, you could make one complete bird.”
Grace had no intention of disassembling her granddad’s plane to help some other hobbyist make his plane complete, but she might as well ask. “Do you have his contact information?”
“Oh man, I knew you were going to ask. Let me see here.” Grace could hear the shuffle of papers while Hank searched. “Here it is. Yup, sure is. His name is Win Ross. He’s up near Traverse City in a small town called Oak Bend.”
While Hank babbled, Grace’s hands began to shake. She’d traced her granddad’s steps—steps Aaron had surely known about and had opted not to share. She set her pen down, and when Hank finally stopped talking, she said, “Thanks for sharing that.”
“You bet. If this Win isn’t willing to share, I’m sorry to say I don’t believe either of you will find the parts you’re looking for.”
“Hank, can you please explain that?”
“If you would’ve done more research, you would’ve learned that there were only three hundred sixty-four of those planes created in the first place. The majority of them were decommissioned by the military in 1949 and their metal sold for scrap. A handful of them ended up with collectors and in museums. A very small handful, Grace. And those have all been restored using spare parts from some of the decommissioned planes that were sold off.”
“So how would I get parts from those?”
“You can’t. This Ross character up in Oak Bend can’t either. They don’t exist. It’s like chasing unicorns or Bigfoot. See?”
“Yeah, I see.” Grace’s chest felt like a Tigercat was sitting there. Heavy. Nearly impossible to breathe. “Thank you for your time.”
“No problem, Grace, and if you decide that you’d like to list that Stearman, you give me a call back.”
“I will. Thanks.”
She stared at the phone in her hand. Her granddad had been chasing after Bigfoot. She stewed over the words and the knowledge that he’d had zero chance of finding those parts. Over the fact that Aaron must have known that it would be an impossible mission for her as well. He’d approached the topic hesitantly and made some comment that it wouldn’t be easy, but he hadn’t indicated that finding original parts would be completely impossible.
That changed everything.
She needed to know what Aaron had been thinking. She glanced in the mirror and then pulled her hair into a loose bun at the back of her head, securing it with a hair tie. Then, with her handbag in her fist, she swept out of the house.
It didn’t take her long to get to Aaron’s Aeronautics for the second time in one day. A plane was just arriving on the strip, and she watched it touch down before reaching for the door handle.
“Hey! Be with you in a second!” Aaron shouted from where he was working. It was his normal greeting, she’d discovered over their short time together.
“It’s me. I have a question for you.”
Her voice brought his head up, and she wanted to rush to him. To let him hold her and explain this confusion away. But she held firm in her position and waited for him to finish whatever task he was doing under the engine hatch of the fancy Beechwood.
“Hey, Grace. I wasn’t expecting to see you again so soon. Let me wash my hands. I’ll be right back.” He hustled back to the restroom and returned a moment later, wiping his hands on a white paper towel. “Twice in one day. How did I get so lucky?”
When he reached for her, she took a giant step backward. The expression on his face said she’d hurt him with that motion, but she needed to keep her head on straight while they discussed this. “I’m sorry. I just have a serious question, and I need to think.”
“Can’t think when I’m hugging you?” A sly grin crept across his lips, and he looked utterly charming—a trait that could easily lead her astray in this moment.
Grace shook her head. “Probably not.”
“Okay. Shoot. I want this question-answer session over, so I can kiss my woman.” He hooked his fingers into his front pockets and rocked back on his heels.
“I contacted Antique Aero and talked to a guy named Hank. He said finding parts for the Tigercat was impossible, like searching for a unicorn.”
“Well, he’s right, Grace.”
“And you knew this?” Disbelief dripped from Grace’s voice. She glared at Aaron, and his shoulders sagged. “You knew, and you didn’t tell me? Why would you keep that from me?”
“Grace, I didn’t want to hurt you.”
“I trusted you, Aaron. You were my granddad’s friend. You were the only person who knew what he was doing here with this plane—well, you and Hank. Geez, Aaron. Why wouldn’t you tell me it was a fool’s mission?”
“Win.” Aaron’s expression called her stupid, as if it were the only explanation Grace needed. He blinked a few times and said, “I couldn’t tell you because of Win.”
“I loved my granddad. With all my heart. But he’s gone now. What purpose did you have to withhold information from me about the property he left? For me?” Her voice had gone shrill with anger and frustration, and the words hurt as they were forced from her throat. “What? So, I’d continue paying you to work on it? Do you need money that bad?”
“No, Grace.
“Then what?” she demanded.
“I didn’t want to shatter your opinion of Win. I didn’t want to break your heart by telling you he was in search of something he would never find. Sometimes it seemed nearly fanciful for him. Like he was in total denial. He’d talk about the day we got it all assembled and up in the air. Other times, he’d sound like he was panning for gold. The next pan would surely be the one, you know? He’d get that way.”
“I don’t understand.”
“He’d have a lead, and he’d tell me all about it and how he had a feeling in his gut that this was going to be the one. And when it wasn’t, he’d be talking about the next lead on the horizon. He always had a positive, hopeful attitude.”
Grace could tell that last sentence had been tacked on to turn the words around. But it sounded like her granddad hadn’t just been living in a dream world but rather suffering with something worse. Delusions? Dementia? Was it possible for those two to happen at the same time?
“Why didn’t you tell me this?”
“Because, Grace, I didn’t want to ruin the memory of your granddad.” He moved toward her and touched her shoulders, holding her just an arm’s length away and studying her face.
“You lied to me, Beck.”
His eyes darkened when she called him the name that the rest of the town used. “I didn’t lie. I kept your hope alive. Just like Win had. He always had hope.”
“He was a foolish old man with nothing better to do than scour the online boards looking for antique warplane parts.” Grace shrugged away from Beck, her heart shattering with the motion. “But I’m a woman grounded in reality. I can’t play that game with you.”
“What the hell, Grace? Are you really that mad?”
“I need a break.” She backed away.
“A break? From us? Is that what you mean?” His easy smile turned to a hard cold scowl she hadn’t seen since the first day they met.
“Yeah. How can I trust a word you say?” Grace whispered the question, but he’d already turned away as if he were simply going back to work. As if he had nothing left to give her.
But then he spun around, his eyes flashing with anger. He raked his fingers through his hair and then balled his fingers into fists by his side. “I really like you, Grace. You and I work. We fit. I don’t know what that means necessarily. But I could see something more than this for us.”
“I’m sorry, Beck. I just need time to process all of it.”
“Suit yourself, Gracie Jane.”