Falling for Jillian Ashley: A Carlsbad Village Lesbian Romance Read online

  Other girlfriends Sally had had since Emily had been fun, sure; delightful in their unique ways; but those relationships hadn’t brought her that early-Emily-like happiness. Until now. With Amy.

  Were her and Amy, though, doomed for the same ending Sally and Emily had suffered? Post-Emily, Sally had discovered that the problem with not having one definitive thing to point to as the cause of the end of a relationship is that at night, lying in bed along, wide awake, a woman’s mind starts to wonder, “Was it my fault? Was it something about me?”

  But Sally didn’t feel that her Amy were going to end up like her and Emily. Don’t ask her why. All she knew was that this felt different; it felt like what the movies and the lesfic books and even some TV shows wanted one to believe it should feel like when you finally discover your soulmate. With Emily, Sally had been happy and content. With Amy, Sally was happy, content and whole.

  The plane suddenly rocked a bit, pulling Sally from her reverie.

  Turbulence.

  Sally went back to reading her book.

  Then the plane rocked again. Harder.

  A nervous energy now filled the first-class cabin. Other passengers were looking up from their books or tablet screens. Next to her, Amy stopped typing. The fasten-seat-belt indicator chimed and lit up. The first-class flight attendant, who had been about to deliver a drink to a passenger quickly turned around and went back to the galley.

  For a few moments, nothing else happened. The aircraft resumed its smooth journey through the air. Sally shared a quick no big deal smile with Amy and went back to reading.

  And then…

  Wham!

  It was as if the hand of a god had swatted the plane from above. With gut-lurching suddenness, the plane shuddered and then plummeted. Screams filled the cabin, mixing with the sounds of banging that seemed to be coming from the underbelly of the craft, while the whine of the engines kicked up many decibels, as if the engines were being pushed to their max.

  Sally dropped her Kindle and gripped the armrests of her seat. She could feel her body actually trying to lift off the seat as the rapid descent continued, her seatbelt the only thing keeping her in place.

  “Sally!” Amy called out, her voice strained, like a character in a horror movie upon seeing the featured monster.

  It got worse.

  Suddenly the plane banked sharply. The screams—Sally’s included—rose in volume. The lights in the cabin went out. The overhead bins burst open and Sally felt something punch her in the head but with her eyes squeezed shut she had no idea what it was. A suitcase? A duffel bag?

  “OhfuckOhfuckOhfuckOhfuckOhfuck!” she chanted, pausing only to scream again when the plane lurched violently again.

  She knew this wasn’t turbulence. Something was mechanically or structurally wrong with their aircraft!

  Fuck!

  Somehow, the plane was corrected out of the bank but now it was as if they were driving on a cobblestone road because the airplane was shaking and trembling so vigorously that Sally was certain the welds and rivets could not possibly hold and that any second now the plane would shake itself apart. Somewhere in the row behind her, she heard someone throw up. She heard children and adults crying. She heard multiple people praying.

  Sally opened her eyes.

  I’m going to die.

  It was a certainty. She knew it.

  And it became even more of a certainty when, once more, the plane dropped in freefall.

  More screaming. More gut-wrenching mid-air maneuvers.

  This is it!

  Amy gripped her hand. Sally looked at her. Their eyes locked together. Amy’s were as wide as they could possibly be and tears were streaming from them. Sally also knew she was crying.

  It was so noisy in the cabin that Sally knew speaking was pointless. The whining roar of the engines combined with the various bangs and knocks combined with the screams, cries and prayers of their fellow passengers was deafening. And so Sally tried to convey with her eyes what she wanted to say.

  Thank you for coming into my life.

  Thank you letting me stay in yours when I told you I wasn’t Jillian Ashley.

  Thank you for helping me feel a special kind of joy again.

  Thank you for making me feel more alive than I ever have.

  We belonged together!

  You were meant for me and I was meant for you.

  Maybe we’ll have eternity together?

  And Sally was certain that Amy was receiving her messages! That perhaps, somehow, these moments of heightened and pure fear had managed to activate some dormant telepathic ability in her girlfriend’s brain, giving her the ability to “hear” Sally despite no words coming from Sally’s mouth.

  And as Sally sat there, tears streaming down her cheeks, staring into Amy’s eyes, miraculously she felt her own brain activate its telepathy function and—rather peacefully—Sally began listening to the messages Amy was sending her…

  Chapter 35

  Thank you for being with me here at the end.

  You have no idea how magical I think our time together has been!

  You gave me so much happiness.

  You made my heart soar each time I looked at you!

  I start missing you after five minutes apart.

  I think you were the One.

  Maybe that means we’ll see each other on the other side.

  Amy was straining her mind to transmit these messages to the woman sitting next to her, wanting to believe that somehow the words were really traveling through the few inches of empty space between her and Sally.

  Thrillingly, she started believing that! There was understanding in Sally’s eyes! And Amy noticed this just as she suddenly gained the superpower of being able to translate each tiny movement, each miniscule flicker of Sally’s eyes, and turn them into words she understood!

  She opened her mouth to speak, knowing she’d have to yell over the incredible noise in the cabin, but then the plane did yet another one of those rollercoaster-type dips in the sky and Amy’s eyes squeezed shut and she yelped out.

  Oh, fuck! It’s about to happen!

  What would she feel at the end? Would there be pain? Would she suffer? Or would she simply be snuffed out?

  How much longer did they have? Minutes? Seconds?

  Were they about to slam into a mountain or crash into the sea? Were they over a city or above farmland?

  How long would it take to inform her family of her death? Her parents were also on a trip—to Wichita to visit Amy’s grandmother. She had told them that she was going to San Francisco but hadn’t provided much in the way of details concerning her flight information. For all they knew, she was either already back home in Carlsbad or still in Frisco. How long before they learned their only daughter was dead?

  Somehow, she became aware of the fact that the plane was no longer dropping. It was flying. It still felt like being in a car on a bumpy road but at least her stomach was no longer in her throat.

  She heard a bing-bong tone and then a voice came over the PA system.

  “This is the captain. We have been cleared for an emergency landing at John Wayne International Airport. Flight attendants, emergency protocols, please. Eight minutes.”

  They were going to land!

  Emergency land.

  In eight minutes!

  Eight minutes in a broken plane still high up in the sky!

  Suddenly, the flight attendant in first-class was on his feet, holding onto the bulkhead to steady himself against the shaking aircraft. He looked just as pale and scared as Amy felt but she had to hand it to him, he also looked determined to do his job.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” he shouted. “Listen very carefully! Make sure your seatbelts are tight across your hips and that the belt is not twisted. After you’ve done that, you will tuck your chin into your chest, you will lean forward and place your head against the seat in front of you and then place your hands on top of your head!”

  He demonstrated by pla
cing his hands on top of his head but almost lost his balance and fell.

  “Oh my god!” Amy muttered, checking her seatbelt.

  “We’re going to be fine,” Sally said, but Amy heard the utter fear in her voice. However, what else was Sally going to say?

  In moments, Amy and Sally were ready, both of them bent forward with their heads pressed against the seats in front of them, hands in the proper position.

  “I want to hold you,” Amy told Sally.

  “I know, baby. I want that too. So much!”

  Amy made a decision.

  “Fuck this!” she stated. Sitting up, she pulled down her face mask, pulled Sally out of her crash position, yanked Sally’s mask down and then mashed her lips against Sally’s in a bruising kiss of desperation. Their tongues met instantly and dueled as their lips slid against each other hungrily. If this was going to be their last kiss, then Amy was going to get everything out of it that she could and she knew Sally felt the same way.

  When they broke, they looked at each other.

  “We’re going to be okay,” Sally said.

  “We’re going to be okay,” Amy repeated and then they both bent forward again and waited.

  Chapter 36

  “Ma’am?”

  Sally blinked. Was someone talking to her? She blinked again and slowly turned her head toward the direction she thought the voice had come from.

  There was a man in a uniform standing off to her side.

  What kind of uniform is that?

  It took her a moment to realize it was a paramedic’s uniform. It took her another moment to recognize him as the paramedic who had briefly examined her after they had landed, making sure she wasn’t injured.

  This rang a bell in her memory.

  She was injured. Something had hit her head during the Incident, as she now called it. Whatever it was had apparently left a slight bruise high on her right cheek. This paramedic had put something on it. Something cold. Said it was nothing to worry about; it would disappear in a day or two. Also said it might be sore for a while. Don’t put pressure on it. Other than that she was fine.

  So what does he want now?

  She blinked again. He was holding out a paper cup. Steam was coming from the top of it.

  “Coffee?” she heard him ask. “You look like you could use it.”

  She nodded and reached for the cup but her hand was shaking too much to take it from him.

  “Here,” the paramedic said. He gently lowered her hand and then placed the cup on the seat next to her. “Drink it when you’re ready. I need to go help some other folks. Take care.”

  She nodded. Very carefully, feeling like a toddler who was just learning how to use her limbs, she reached for the coffee cup with both hands and carefully grasped it. Her hands still trembled but using both of them made it manageable.

  The coffee was terrible. And it was unsweetened. She liked sweetened coffee. But how was the paramedic to know that? Anyway, it was hot and it was helping her focus again and she remembered…

  The plane had landed but it had been a bumpy ride all the way to the ground. When the wheels touched down on the tarmac, people on board had screamed because they were so jittery. Sally had been one of the screamers. When you’re on an obviously broken aircraft, and your body is tucked up into a ball and you can’t see the ground approaching out the window, you can’t help but scream when suddenly the plane makes contact with something hard and unyielding. In the split second after touchdown, her hyper-frightened mind was certain that the plane was crashing, that that was the end and so of course she screamed.

  Somehow they had all gotten off the plane using that big inflatable slide. Whenever she had seen that used in movies, Sally had always thought it looked like fun but now she couldn’t remember if she’d had fun using it today.

  On the ground were fire trucks and ambulances. There was smoke coming from somewhere. Thick and black.

  Those among the passengers who could walk were hurriedly guided to a shuttle bus; those who couldn’t were put on stretchers. Her and Amy—

  Amy!

  Where was Amy?

  “Amy!” she called out, standing and looking frantically around, not even really sure where she was. It looked like a hangar. There were scores of people around—some of them scurrying about, some of them lying on cots, some of them sitting in folding chairs, looking as dazed as Sally felt, staring off into space. Paramedics were administering oxygen and checking blood pressures; people with clipboards were sitting with passengers, asking them questions or handing them forms to be filled out. Others were pacing, talking on their phones, crying. There was a table with food and drinks. Most of the passengers, herself included, had blankets draped around their shoulders.

  It was all coming back to her in fits and starts—her mind finally accepting that she was safe and allowing her memory to function again.

  Her and Amy had already spoken to the airline representatives—but Sally refused to sign anything and she prevented Amy from signing anything as well. Her father was a lawyer and had taught her enough to know that when something like this happens, the last thing you do is sign any piece of paper. They had also already been seen by the paramedics and both were deemed injury-free—well, except for Sally’s bruised cheek.

  And then…

  Sally remembered telling Amy that she needed to call her mother, but the call had gone to her hospital’s answering service; her mother was in the operating room performing surgery. Sally was asked if she wanted a message to be brought to Dr. Lassiter in the O.R. No, Sally had told the operator and hung up. She was alive and for all she knew, her mother was the only thing keeping some poor guy from starring in his own funeral soon. Sally figured she could tell her mother about the Incident later. So, she had called the next person who immediately came to mind: Max.

  “Fuck! I’ll be right there!” he had stated. “Out the door right now!”

  And then after that phone call—it was all coming back to her now—she had just slumped in her seat and stared off into space, undisturbed until that thoughtful paramedic brought her coffee.

  But Amy…

  She spotted Amy sitting on the ground against one of the hangar walls, sobbing, her hands covering her face, her cell phone on the floor beside her. That’s right, Sally remembered…Amy had wandered off to call her mother as well.

  Rushing over to her, Sally sat on the floor and pulled Amy into her arms, rocking her gently and trying to shush her.

  “It’s over, baby; it’s over,” she cooed.

  Eventually, Amy calmed down.

  “My mother wants to fly here to be with me,” Amy said with a laugh, wiping her tear-streaked face. “I told her, ‘Are you fucking kidding me? Don’t get on a fucking plane! Like, ever!’”

  Sally laughed.

  “That’s not actually going to stop her, is it?” she asked.

  “I told her there’s no need,” Amy answered. “I’m fine. Still crying with relief, but fine.”

  “I think I’ll be shaking all night,” Sally murmured, already worried about what kind of nightmares she was in for later when (if) she fell asleep.

  “I’ll be there with you,” Amy said, holding her tighter, making Sally feel warmth flow through her entire body.

  “Yes, please don’t me leave me alone tonight,” she said.

  “I would never,” Amy assured her. “I just want to stay clinging to you for a week.”

  “I’d love that.”

  “I can’t wait to get home. Can we just go straight to your place? No picking up your cat or any other stops?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “And stay in bed?”

  “Absolutely,” Sally repeated.

  “Wait…how are we getting home?” Amy asked.

  “Max is picking us up,” Sally told her.

  “Yay!”

  Amy clung tighter to her and Sally smiled to herself. She was already feeling better and she knew it was because she had Amy next to her and
in her arms. A thought occurred to her: After the harrowing experience on the airplane, she felt as if she had been given a second chance at life. She still didn’t know what had gone wrong with the plane and she supposed one day she’d find that out, but what she did know—as certainly as she knew her name—was that everyone on that plane had been very lucky and owed their lives to the vagaries of Fate and the skills of the pilots. If the pilots had made different decisions during the mid-air crisis or flipped that switch instead of this one; if a bolt on the airframe had given way instead of holding fast; if a single wire had come loose or if the plane had hit a descending pocket of cold air while they were in distress then they would have crashed and died.

  Instead, they had lived. They had all been given a second chance.

  And Sally knew that whatever else she did with this second chance, the most important thing she could do was make sure Amy was part of her life.

  Chapter 37

  By the time Max had dropped them off at Sally’s condo, Amy was over the panic caused by the Event, as she referred to it. She was also past breaking into crying jags caused by it and the relief of being alive. In fact, walking into Sally’s place, Amy felt like she had just chugged an Amy’s Jet Fuel from La Vida Mocha, even though the only coffee she’d had recently was that awful dreck the airline representatives had served her and the other survivors back at the airport.

  She felt wired! Buzzy! Energetic! Alive!

  After Sally closed the front door, Amy couldn’t wait any longer and pounced like a cat that had been lurking, waiting for its prey. Grabbing Sally’s head between her two hands, Amy claimed her mouth in a passionate kiss, groaning at the contact, groaning louder when their tongues met.

  “Hi!” Sally breathed when Amy released her.

  “Hi!” Amy replied and then silenced her girlfriend with another kiss. Talking was for losers, anyway. This was a time for action.

  But eventually, Sally pulled away, breathless.

  “I like where this is going,” she gasped, “but I could really use a shower first.”

  Wordlessly, Amy took Sally by the hand and led her toward the bedroom, Sally giggling as she was pulled along.