“No, a friend of mine owns it, we were in the Force together. He’s letting me borrow it for the weekend.”
He starts doing all kinds of things around the plane and since I have only gotten on a plane through a jet way, I decide to stand here awaiting instruction. He finishes and says, “Alright, load up.”
He’s holding the door open for me to climb in. Jude takes my carry-on bags and throww them in the back.
I decide I should start finding out as much as I can about our mode of transportation, so I ask, “What kind of plane is this?”
“Cessna 172 Skyhawk.”
“Huh.” That means nothing to me. “Do they, um, have a good safety rating? You know, like that insurance institute does with cars? Although, I’m sure they don’t crash these with dummies in them to see how well they stand up. I’ve seen lots of plane crashes on the news, planes crashing to the ground never fare well,” I ramble.
“Babe.” He tries to get my attention away from the enormous instrument panel in front of me that is overwhelming my brain. “Gabby, look at me.” I finally look away from the gadgets and gizmos to give him my eyes. He then asks me in a really nice, low and raspy voice, “Do you think I would do everything I could to keep you safe for weeks from a gun trafficker only to put you in a plane that I’m flying and put you at risk?”
“Probably not,” I mutter, gazing back at the gadgets and gizmos.
“Gabby.” I look back at him again. “It’s safer than driving. We’ll be fine.”
“Oookaaay,” I drawl. Jude chuckles and returns to the gizmos. “Wait,” I yell thinking of something important. “Do we have enough gas? It’s not like we can just pull over and fill up.”
Laughing at me now, he says, “It’s fuel and yes we’re topped off. I have to check it in preflight. Now buckle up, you’re making us late for takeoff.”
I guess knowing we have enough fuel makes me feel better. Jude cranks up our little plane and taxis us to the end of the runway. Man, this sucker is loud compared to big planes. While he’s doing this he says, “It should take us between two and a half to three hours. Settle in.”
Holy smokes. As I say a silent prayer for safety, Jude speeds our little plane down the runway and we lift into the air. Watching the ground get smaller and smaller I realize my surprise birthday weekend getaway has barely begun and Jude is certainly full of surprises. Well, one thing I know is for certain. I’m not sleeping in a tent tonight.
We flew southwest in our little plane. I knew this because during the flight, which honestly wasn’t that bad once I settled in and got used to it, Jude gave me the low down of every instrument. He even let me steer for a few minutes. Now, would I be able to fly or land our itty-bitty-tiny-little plane if he passed out from being too good looking or bossy? No. But I do know how to read a compass, so it was easy to tell that we were heading southwest.
Jude still hasn’t given me any hints as to where we are going, but I am intuitive enough to figure out that we are to going to Colorado since the landscape changed from flat and boring to mountainous on the horizon. I’ve been to Colorado in the winter on ski trips with my youth group when I was younger, so it should be different being here with no snow. But more importantly, since Jude is from Colorado, I am super excited to see what he has planned.
We just landed at another airstrip and Jude is taxiing the plane. I turn to him as my ears are popping like crazy. “Okay. I know we are in a city in Colorado. Are you going to make me look for signs or are you going to tell me where we are?”
Smiling as he messes with some things on the instrument panel, he says, “Alright, Gabby.” He turns to me and continues, “We’re just west of Denver, but we aren’t staying here. Let’s go.”
He gets all of our bags and I follow him, doing the reverse of what we did in Omaha, going into a little building from the back. He talks to another attendant—more paper work and he turns to grab my hand pulling me out the front door. It’s cooler here than it was at home so I’m feeling grateful Jude bought me my puffy pink vest.
Walking me out to the parking lot, I look up and see an older Jude-like looking person leaning up against a Jeep Cherokee. He’s looking at us—but mainly at me. I stop in my tracks and pull on Jude’s hand.
“What?” he asks.
“Who’s that?” I whisper.
“That’s my dad. Come on, I’ll introduce you. Trust me, he’s not nearly as overwhelming as your family.”
Too shocked to think of a come back to his gentle jab at the Carpinos, he yanks me forward. Letting me go, he gives his dad a man hug with a slap on the back then turns back to take my hand. “Gabby, this is my dad, Rick. Dad, Gabrielle Carpino.”
Rick Ortiz is just as tall as Jude with the same dark hair but his is speckled with gray around his temples and cut shorter. He looks like he used to be built like Jude, but the years have made him softer. He’s wearing business casual clothing with an older black leather bomber jacket that looks great, one of those jackets that looks better with wear. He gives me a guarded look with a small smile and sticks out his hand. “Gabrielle.”
Dropping Jude’s hand to take his, I respond, “Please, Gabby. It’s so nice to meet you.”
Rick continues to look at both Jude and I now and I’m wondering what this is all about. He turns to Jude and tosses him some keys. “A friend from work is picking me up. It’s all yours for the weekend, just lock the keys in it under the seat on Monday and I’ll be by to get it later.” He lets out a breath, looking like he’s trying to relax and goes on, “Do you have time? I’ll take you to lunch before you head up.”
Jude squeezes my hand he reclaimed and looking down at me then back to his dad, he says, “Next time. We’ve got some stops to make on the way and have to get going. We’ll plan more time next trip so we can spend some time together.”
Smiling, looking more genuine and relaxed now, Rick says, “I understand. Enjoy your weekend.” Looking at me he goes on, “Happy birthday, Gabby.”
I’m surprised Jude told him it was my birthday. “Oh, thanks. It’s so nice to meet you.” Jude loads up the Jeep and after saying one more goodbye to Rick, we head out.
People aren’t usually uncomfortable around me and I can usually make friends with a tree stump, so the whole semi-tense introduction was weird. As Jude makes our way out of the parking lot and through the city streets, I start, “Your dad seems nice. You look like him.”
“Yeah, I think the Puerto Rican genes won out. My brother and I favor my dad.”
“It’s nice of him to loan us his car, do you fly out here often?” I ask, wanting to know as much as I can.
“No, I usually drive, but it’s almost ten hours in the car and we only have a couple of days, I didn’t want to cut into our time with the drive. Plus, my friend lets me use his plane as often as I like, he doesn’t have much time to fly. That’s why we stopped at his office this morning, I needed to get the keys,” he goes on to explain our morning.
Realizing how he really went above and beyond to arrange things for me this weekend, I say, “Thank you for everything. I don’t even know what we’re doing or where we’re going, but you’ve done so much already.”