Several roads toward Cedarcrest Estate were difficult.
That created our unusual transportation problem.
A military colleague I occasionally worked with through consulting heard me complaining about canceled ground arrangements.
His aviation unit already had an authorized training route that passed near Cedarcrest Estate.
The estate itself had an approved emergency landing area used during wildfire seasons.
When he suggested transporting us as part of the existing route, I told him he had lost his mind.
“You want me to arrive at my ex-husband’s Christmas dinner in a military helicopter?”
“We’re already flying nearby.”
“That is absurdly dramatic.”
He grinned.
“Not everything dramatic has to be intentional.”
The boys heard.
That ended the debate.
Noah wanted to know what model aircraft.
Lucas wanted to know how lift worked.
Miles immediately became anxious about noise.
Ethan asked whether people threw up.
Two hours later, with all required approvals confirmed, we boarded.
I almost changed my mind.
Not because of Adrian.
Because of the boys.
I looked at them in winter coats and navy sweaters.
Eight years old.
Four separate personalities.
Four lives Adrian had never touched.
“Last chance,” I said.
“We can go home.”
Ethan shook his head.
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