Fighting for Flight JB Salsbury (room on the broom read aloud .TXT) 📖

trash and no good for her son. I straighten my spine, ready for her attack on my character. Dragging my eyes to meet hers, I lurch in shock.

Her eyes are the exact shade of Jonah’s. And just like Jonah, filled with compassion. Not judgment. I relax a fraction under their gaze.

“That’s an incredible story.” Her voice is gentle and calms my nerves. “You must have been through a lot growing up. I can’t imagine what it must have been like for you.” She picks up my hand and holds it in hers. “You know what you are, Raven?”

I shake my head no, fearing that my voice will break the consoling cocoon her words provide. I’m desperate to know.

What am I?

“You’re like that single wild flower that grows from the crack in the pavement: miraculous growth with no water source or fertile soil. A person walking by would step around that flower to avoid crushing it. It’s not like the field of wild flowers you tromp through carelessly, crushing them under your feet, knowing that the next day will bring a hundred more.”

She pauses to place her hand on my cheek. “You’ve managed a life through your obstacles. It may be a lonely life, but a life nonetheless. Surviving is nothing to be ashamed of. It’s something to be proud of.”

She sees me as worthy. Not a weight in Jonah’s life, but special. A miracle.

I want to express what her words mean to me, but can’t organize my emotions fast enough. Tears pool in my eyes. I blink, and they overflow as her speech runs on repeat in my head, leeching out the poison left behind in my soul.

She brings a kitchen towel to my face and wipes my tears. Her kind smile is more than I can handle and I sob.

“Oh, honey.” She pulls me into her arms. I’m completely lost in her embrace. She holds me tight, speaking words into my hair about strength and release.

My cheek presses into her shoulder, soaking her shirt with my tears. I startle when a pair of strong arms pull me away from her. So deep in my sorrow, I didn’t hear him come in. The familiar smell of citrus and spice relax my muscles, and I bury myself into Jonah’s chest.

“Mom. What the fuck happened?” Anger laces his voice.

I can’t see Katherine’s face, but her whispered, “It’s okay, Joey” has him relaxing against me. He takes a deep breath and holds me until I calm.

“Baby?” He kisses my head and rubs my back.

I lean away from Jonah, but he keeps his arms tightly around my waist. I wipe my face, feeling exposed and embarrassed. “Sorry. It’s stupid—”

“No, Raven, don’t do that. Don’t belittle your strength with embarrassment. You have nothing to be ashamed of.” Katherine’s eyes are wet with tears.

I nod and simply say the only thing I can, “Thank you, Katherine.”

Staring at Jonah’s neck, I’m unable to lift my gaze, fearing what I might see in his eyes.

“Hey. Look at me.”

I brave a glance.

He’s smiling tenderly, bringing forth both dimples. “You okay?”

I nod.

“Right.” He kisses my lips, then the tip of my nose, and finally my forehead.

“My son is lucky to have you, Raven. I’m very proud of him, and I’m equally proud of you.”

Warmth floods my chest, flowing into my cheeks and pulling on my lips. I look from Katherine to Jonah.

“You girls have fun today?” He doesn’t take his eyes from mine. His voice is soft and I appreciate the change to a happier subject.

We hang out in the kitchen while Katherine puts the finishing touches on dinner. Jonah steals pieces of food off the counter and she slaps his hand. For the first time, I see Jonah as a boy while he playfully teases his mom. I laugh as she reprimands him for drinking milk straight from the carton. She fills him in on his sister and her husband. He laughs at the stories about his nephews getting into trouble.

I’m nothing more than a spectator to this beautiful display of family. I watch in silence as envy piggybacks my happiness.

After a delicious meal, I excuse myself to clean the kitchen so Jonah and his mom can have some time alone. Drying the last dish and putting it away, I head straight to Jonah’s garage for some quiet time with the Impala.

With my hair pulled back, I plug the iPod into the dock and allow the music to wash through my body, taking with it the multitude of conflicted emotions tumbling in my chest.

Some of the music from Jonah’s iPod is familiar, but one song catches my attention. I read the name on the screen as “Halo” by Beyonce. It seems Beyonce knows a thing or two about my situation, as her words become my heart’s anthem. I put the song on repeat and turn back to the car to bury myself in work.

Lost in the combination of my work and the music, I jump at the sound of the door opening. How long have I been in here?

“I knew I’d find you here.” He wraps me in a hug. His body is warm and comforting.

“I wanted to give you and your mom some time alone. I thought I’d come out here until she went to bed.”

He sits on the hood of the Impala, propping his heels on the bumper and pulling me between his legs.

“My mom is in love with you.” He tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “She flat out told me that if I didn’t marry you she’d disown me. I think she likes you more than she likes me.”

My cheeks warm. “She’s incredible, Jonah.”

“I’m glad you think so. You know, I was kinda hoping that someday she’d be your mother-in-law.”

My eyes flash to his and a slow smile pulls at my lips. Holy crud. Is he asking what I think he’s asking?

“Whaddya say? You feel like droppin’ Morretti for good?”

Twenty-seven

Jonah

I’m not breathing. I’m waiting.

She’s staring at me like I sprouted horns .