Melinda’s Story

I wasn’t sure when I fell asleep, but I was aware of Pat’s gentle kiss waking me. He whispered as he pulled me close.

“We’re almost there, sleepyhead.”

“Patrick?” His father’s stern voice sounded loud in the quiet cabin. “Could I see you in the galley?”

He squeezed past the side of the bed and continued to the kitchen. Pat muttered an oath and kissed the top of my head before getting up and following his father. I saw Mr. Adam shut another sliding door and had a feeling Pat was in trouble, though I had no idea why.

It was weird to be alone in the airplane, not that this felt anything like an airplane. It almost felt like a living room or hotel room.

Where had Walter disappeared to? I looked around. He was probably in his room. After a quick trip to the bathroom, I realized I was hungry. Was there any pizza left?

The boxes we had left near the television were gone. I assumed someone had brought them back to the kitchen. Which I was pretty sure was off limits at the moment.

Pat returned a short time later, looking nauseous. I sent him a confused look.

“Everything okay?”

Pat muttered as he returned to the couch. “Not discussing it.”

I ran a hand along his back. “Rule number four.”

“Does not apply to awkward conversations with parents about you and me. Together in a bed.”

I looked around and gasped. Mr. Adam had not emerged from the galley. I turned back to Pat. “Did he think—Oh!” I buried my head in my hands.

Pat chuckled and put an arm around me, drawing me close. “I will tell you about it. Just not right now.”

Walter sat beside us a moment later, cold pizza in his hand. He smirked at his brother. “You’re welcome.”

Pat gave a solemn nod. “I owe you big time.”

Although I was curious about what Walter had done, I assumed it was part of the story Pat wasn’t ready to share. Instead, I gestured towards Walter’s pizza.

“Is there any more of that?”

“In the galley.” Walter shoved the rest of the slice into his mouth. “I’ll go get it.”

---

By the time the plane landed, I had helped transform all the beds back into chairs. Pat and I sat across from each other as we approached the airport. I glanced out the window. Commercial jets sat on the tarmac beneath us. This wasn’t a little municipal airport like where we had left. This was a real airport!

After we landed, we sat where we were for a while, waiting for the pilots to maneuver around the big planes, parking in front of a hangar far away from the main terminal.

When Mr. Adam went to consult with the pilots, Walter went to the cargo area while Pat opened the hatch and lowered the stairs. I followed him onto the tarmac and towards the rear of the plane. When we reached the open cargo hatch, he pointed toward the building.

“We’re going to be a while. Why don’t you go wait in the lobby?”

“You sure? I can help.”

Walter tossed me a bag. “Here. Carry yours. We’ll get the rest.”

With a shrug, I made my way to the building labeled Barnstormers. I expected it to look identical to the lobby we had left in Connecticut. But it wasn’t.

I was amazed at how much larger it was compared to the airport we had just left. This one contained many more couches and chairs, all arranged into conversational groupings. I chose a seat where I could keep a lookout for my friends but still see out front.

The airport was surrounded by a black aluminum fence, beyond which three people were hovering with telescopic cameras pointed at the building. They were staring with such intensity, I wondered if a strange wild animal was hiding in a tree beside the fence.

A black SUV was parked near the door. Mr. Adam pointed to it as he entered the lobby.

“That’s our ride.”

The driver got out to load the luggage into the trunk while Pat and I climbed into the rear-most seats and Walter and his father sat in the middle. As we pulled out of the lot, I pointed to the photographers.

“What do you think they’re taking pictures of?”

Pat laughed. “Us. Dad’s plane isn’t exactly inconspicuous.”

I sent Pat a skeptical look. “I think this is one of those times you’re being a little pompous.

Mr. Adam laughed. “No, he’s right. It’s a way of life when we’re in California. There are paparazzi around every turn.”

I made a face. “So, if we go anywhere, there’s a chance someone will take a picture of us?”

Walter turned to face me. “Well, if you stick with me, probably not. No one cares about me.”

Pat’s Story

I awoke to find Melinda in my arms. After checking the time, I pulled her close and kissed her gently. She stirred, then returned the kiss. I pulled her even closer, speaking in a soft whisper.

“We’re almost there, sleepyhead.”

My father’s voice resonated across the silent cabin from his bed beside us. “Patrick? Could I see you in the galley?”

I swore under my breath. I knew that tone of voice. He had used my full name. I was in trouble, although I had no idea what I had done wrong. I kissed the top of Melinda’s head before rolling off the couch and following my father to the galley.

Walter’s door was shut. I hoped he was asleep. I wasn’t sure what my father wanted, but I was pretty sure I didn’t want my brother eavesdropping.

I tried to sound casual. “What’s up?”

My father kept his voice low, but there was no mistaking the anger in his tone. “When I suggested you all take a nap, I didn’t mean you should share a bed with your girlfriend!”

“We weren’t doing anything! We were watching a movie and fell asleep.”

“You two looked pretty cozy. Like it wasn’t the first time you had been together like that.”

I shrugged, trying not to show how uncomfortable I was. “It wasn’t.”

My father looked almost ready to explode, but somehow kept his voice low and calm. “I see. So, the first time was?”

I sighed. “I don’t know. Thanksgiving break, maybe? We were watching a movie. It was an accident. It’s not like we meant to do it.”

I could almost see the steam coming from his ears. He took a few deep breaths before resuming that angry whisper.

“How do you not mean to? We talked about responsibility, Patrick. That is not responsible behavior. Thanksgiving? Two weeks ago, you said you were waiting for an intimate relationship.”

“I am!”

“You just said you’ve been sleeping together since Thanksgiving!”

“What? No!” I closed my eyes and sighed. I couldn’t jump out of the airplane to get out of this conversation, could I? I eyed the door behind my father longingly before turning back to him.

“Melinda and I? We’re not together like that. There have been a few times when we’ve fallen asleep watching television. Once at her house. On the couch. Once at our house. On the beanbag chairs in the playroom. The other night, when we babysat overnight. And just now on the divan. Which I only turned into a bed because Walter was watching tv with us and there wasn’t enough room for all of us.”

“So, you and Melinda haven’t . . . you’re not . . .”

“No. We’re not. We’re still waiting. I promise.”

“Tonight’s after party. You will make responsible choices, right?”

“Yes, Dad!”

I was pretty sure my father intended to continue the lecture, but Walter opened his bedroom door. “Oh. Hey. I needed a snack. Do we have any more of that pizza left?”

As he pushed his way between us, I took my chance to escape. I sat with Melinda, trying to forget what had just happened. She put an arm around me, rubbing her hand along my spine.

“Everything okay?”

“Not discussing it.”

“Rule number four.”

“Does not apply to awkward conversations with parents about you and me. Together in a bed.”

Melinda looked around and squeaked. “Did he think—Oh!” She buried her head in her hands. She was so adorable, I had to laugh. I put an arm around her and pulled her closer.

“I will tell you about it. Just not right now.”

Walter sat beside us, cold pizza in hand, with a smirk. “You’re welcome.”

“I owe you big time.”

Melinda gestured to the pizza. “Is there any more of that?”

“In the galley.” Walter shoved the rest of the slice into his mouth. “I’ll go get it.”

---

Dad had hired a car to pick us up at the airport. Melinda and I crawled into the rear seats while Walter and Dad sat in the middle. Melinda looked around wide-eyed. I had to remind myself that this was her first visit to California.

She turned around in her seat to get a better look as we passed one of the studio lots. “Is that where your mom is filming?”

I put an arm around her to play with her hair. “No. The studio has two lots. That one’s used for shooting outside. Like there’s a backyard pool there we used to film—” I swore. I couldn’t remember which movie I filmed in the pool. “What was the movie?”

Walter turned to look at me. “House Arrest, right?”

Dad shook his head. “I think it was GnomeWorld.”

Melinda giggled. “You do realize that’s not normal, right?”

She was probably right, but the words stung a little. I hated when she thought of me as a pretentious celebrity.

A few minutes later, we reached the studio’s main lot and Walter and I pointed out the few buildings we could make out from the road.

“That’s one of the sound stages,” I said. “It’s where shows are filmed. Like, Romeo and Juliet was in stages five and seven.”

“Oh. There’s the commissary,” my brother pointed out.

“What’s a commissary?” Melinda asked.

“Cafeteria.”

“Walter’s second home,” I added.

Melinda giggled as the studio passed behind us and we headed toward the hills.

Attention Hammerheads

Melinda is always trying to build her vocabulary. What were some words in this episode that were new to you? She will add them to her vocabulary journal.