A/N to 707: Things are going to be pretty nuts by the time we make it to the Autumn Ball. I'm drafting that part right now, and it's giving me whiplash. And Chip does indeed have major trust issues. He's big on issues—trust issues, daddy issues… And we haven't even covered What Happened in Florida? yet. Watch carefully.

Chapter 22

New Heights

It would be dark soon. Alan sat in the passenger seat, looking down at the stark white apron rolled in his hands. While his father drove to the ice cream shop, he thought about the hours ahead of him and the weight they carried, the potential they held. He had an hour and a half to prove himself at work and, hopefully, open the door to another thread of normalcy in his life. After closing the shop, Muffy would pick him up and, instead of going to the Crosswire estate for a horror movie night with friends, they would head straight to his house, where Prunella would be waiting for them. Once there, they would hold the second séance and, hopefully, open the door to another realm.

Which cannot be considered normalcy, not in any conceivable way. Certainly not for you.

Now was not the time for his vicious inner monologue to rise up. He needed to stay focused, not to mention he was unable to rebut since his father was right next to him. He was jolted to the present when his father spoke.

"Again, your mom and I appreciate the help."

"No problem, Dad."

He had not meant for it to come out as short and perfunctory as it sounded. His tone had caught his father's attention, too.

"Are you nervous?"

His grip on the apron tightened.

"May I be honest?"

Are you really going to do this now?

Alan ignored himself.

"I don't want you to be anything but," his father said.

"I am. A little. I like my job. I'm sure it was inadvertent on your part, but when you and Mom imposed the hiatus, it made me feel like I was doing it poorly, like I was in some way inadequate and you needed to intervene. So, yeah, it sort of feels like the pressure is on."

"It was never about the way you did your job."

"I know that, but that isn't how anxiety works. It's not about what I know, and that's a huge problem for someone like me. I know you love me, but it's as if there's a voice inside me, telling me that you're judging me as well. Sometimes pressure makes the voice louder. I don't want to disappoint you guys."

"Allow me to take a load off your mind," his father said. "Or at least try. I'm very proud of you."

"I can't comprehend why."

"For starters, you're just an all-around amazing kid. You're smart, talented, resourceful…this is a short drive, and I don't have time to break out the list. But what I think I admire most about you is your resilience."

"You…think I'm resilient?"

"Damn right, I do. I know you are. I can't imagine what you're going through, what you've already been through, but don't think for a second I don't see you. Even in the hardest times, you keep going. And you've held a job and kept your top-notch grades through it all. And now you're even helping Muffy get better? All that is just incredible. I was a hopeless idiot when I was your age. But you? You're something else."

"I've messed up a lot," Alan said in a quiet voice.

"Who hasn't? But you've always come around, back to yourself, and asked for help when you knew things were too much. That's what matters. That's more than smarts, son; that's wisdom. All we wanted was to give you a break because we thought you deserved one. But if all this stuff makes you happy, gives you fulfillment, then I don't see why you shouldn't have it back. Just as long as you promise to keep asking for help if and when you need it."

Alan nodded. What a coincidence that they thought he deserved a break just as he, Alan, thought the same about them. The car pulled up to the curb near the ice cream shop entrance.

"I hope you and Mom have a great time tonight," he said sincerely. "And don't worry—everything is going to be fine."

Alan played it cool, though he could not exit the car soon enough. He walked through the shop door and gave his mother a smile and a thumbs up as he went to the back to wash up. When he came back a couple of minutes later, donning his apron, she promptly left the counter and gave him a whispered, "Good luck, honey, and call if you need anything," followed by a peck on the cheek before heading to the office to change.

He looked around the shop. The setting sun shone through the windows and bathed the tables in a golden-orange spotlight, as if the sky somehow knew he had won a coveted prize. This really was the dullest part of fall evenings. Only a handful of patrons occupied the space. A teen couple sat on one side of a table in the far-left corner, smiling dreamily at each other over a shared milkshake, and it was obvious they did not plan to stick around for much longer. Closer to the counter, D.W., James, Bud, and Emily, gathered together. At a table close by sat Marie-Hélène, who had accompanied them. The kids were chatting among themselves and enjoying their cones, all except D.W., who stared straight at Alan, looking very happy to see him. She wordlessly handed what remained of her cone over to James without so much as looking at the boy and strolled toward the counter.

"Alan, is it my birthday?" she said casually as she climbed into one of the stools and sat there.

"What's up, D.W.?" Alan said, humoring her. "I haven't seen you in ages."

"I know. What's up with that? I asked your mom where you were, and she said you've been too busy for your job at the moment." She paused to look him up and down, taking in his apron. "So, does this mean you're back?"

Alan chuckled.

"After tonight, I certainly hope so."

"Good. Because I've got so much to tell you about what I've been up to…"

It was good to be back, even if there was a bothersome, hollow feeling to this victory. Why did he have that feeling? Was it just his anxiety, the bells that always rung, whether or not there was cause for alarm, or was there more to it? He listened intently as D.W. prattled on, using her anecdotes to drown out the thoughts that became progressively more persistent, telling him he was likely a fool for believing he could keep his promise, for believing he could move on after the séance.

You know Muffy is right, don't you? said his vicious inner monologue. You're just going to start this all over again.

"I think I finally know exactly what I wanna do with my life, Mr. Baxter," said Ladonna on Saturday evening. She leaned forward, stretching her seat belt as far as it would go, and hugged the front passenger headrest for support. "And it's all thanks to ya."

Buster and Ladonna sat in the back seat together as his father drove them back into Elwood City, coming home from the Ingram Flight School. From the driver's seat, his father grinned.

"Me?" he said. "And how is that?"

"I mean, I already know what I wanna do with my life. I'm going to be a veterinarian, no doubt about it. But I thought I might join the Army first and serve my country. After today, though, and bein' in that plane… I know the Air Force is the right choice for me. I want to pilot a jet."

As Buster had predicted, Ladonna had a blast today. It had been apparent from the moment she arrived and met Rick at the hangar entrance. His father's friend and business partner, a burly cat man in his sixties, gave Ladonna a wide, charmed smile as soon as he heard her speak.

"Say, I detect South in the mouth!" he drawled in his own accent that was different from hers yet still distinctly Southern. "Where ya from, young'n?"

"Looziana," she replied proudly as Rick handled her hand with a delicate shake. "You're from one of the Carolinas?"

"Heh… I come from a lil' place called Meredith, North Carolina, two miles from the Georgia state line. And I mean lil'—blink, and you'll miss it. We had a Citgo, a Piggly Wiggly, and a red light. Just about the Podunkiest Podunk town ya ever saw. But how did you know that?"

"Ya have a sing-song-y upswing on the end of your sentences. They almost sound like questions, so I figured maybe Carolina."

"Well, I'll be…" he said scratching his salt-and-pepper beard that was really more salt now than it was pepper. "C'mon, kids. You're ten-cent tour just got upgraded to a full dollar."

Rick had joined them as he and his father showed them the facility as well as the planes, fielding all the rapid-fire questions Ladonna asked them.

"What's this one called? How high does it go? How fast does it go?"

His father laughed and said, "Why don't you hop in and find out for yourself?"

Ladonna's mouth fell open. "No foolin'?"

"I met your folks at parents' night. I called them up the other night to get the okay, and they're fine with it."

Ladonna had squeed so hard Buster was sure she reached a pitch only dogs could hear. The best part was her reaction to her first flight, from the way she gripped her safety belt and exclaimed, "Oh, lord!" upon takeoff to the way she stared out her window once they were up in the sky, awestruck as she said, "Amazin'… It's like everythin' is huge but also tiny at the same time…" After that, she had fallen silent, sitting with her hand pressed against the glass, her eyes full of wonder.

I really am the king of gift giving, Buster thought as he observed her.

She had hugged his father and Rick once they landed, thanking them profusely for everything. On the drive home she had grilled his father with even more questions about planes, what it was like to fly one, and how to become a pilot. And now here she was, declaring that her career path had been changed in a couple of hours.

"Hey," Buster said in mock offense, leaning forward himself. "what about me? This whole thing was my idea, so don't go leaving me out of your speech when you accept your award for having the best veterinarian slash fighter pilot skills in America. I'm sure that's gotta be a thing…"

Ladonna let go of the headrest and fell back into her seat with a cushioned crash.

"I might add a line in there somewhere that mentions ya," she said with a smirk.

The car had come to a stop outside the Compson residence.

"It was great to meet you, Ladonna," his father said cheerfully. "I'm glad you had fun."

"Oh, I had a wonderful time," she said, opening the door. "Thanks again… Buster Baxter, be a gentleman and walk a girl up?"

As she departed, his father turned quickly in his seat to look at Buster and nod toward the house. Apparently, he was keen on Buster following. Buster got out and caught up with Ladonna, and the two made their way up the walk.

"Ya know I was just kiddin' before, right, goober? O' course I'm grateful for ya. You're gonna be in all my acceptance speeches—that's just a given… That plane was the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," she added in a soft, airy voice as they approached her front door. "Apart from the view. That was truly somethin' special and I don't know how I'm ever gonna thank ya enough—"

"You don't have to," Buster said quickly. "This was me thanking you. For the photo. For everythin'," he said, mimicking her speech. "Cross my heart."

"That's kinda bad," she said with a giggle, talking of his accent.

"It needs work," he agreed.

"A lotta work…"

"Just throwing it out there—it's completely up to you… A new gourmet cupcake shop just opened up downtown. If you're ever passing by one day, and you've still got that I-should-thank-Buster feeling and wanna snag one for me, well… I wouldn't be mad at it. I'm not picky about which flavor."

She nodded thoughtfully. "I could do that, I reckon. Or I could just give ya one of these…"

She leaned in and planted a soft kiss on his cheek. The world went fuzzy, and Buster lost his train of thought. What had they been talking about? Why was he here? Oh. Right…

"Um, yeah…" he said. "You should probably do that instead."

He could still feel the tickle her warm breath had made on his skin prior to her lips brushing his cheek. Words were hard to find, and so he stood there, swallowing the lump in his throat while Ladonna grinned back at him.

"I'll think about it," she said with a wink as she reached for the door handle. "See ya Monday."

She disappeared behind the door and left him dumbfounded on the porch, staring at the entrance. Moments later, Buster managed a slow and far away, "Night-night…" to no one at all. Eventually, he made it back to the car and crawled into the back seat when he could have taken the passenger's side now instead. He was not thinking about it. He had barely registered just how much his father was smiling.

"She certainly is nice," he said, breaking the silence as he pulled away from the curb.

"Uh-huh," Buster said.

"And she sure seems to like you," he said in a leading tone.

"Uh-huh."

"Do you…like her back?"

"Uh-huh."

Wait. Did he?

To be continued…