Chapter 98

While Charles was dressing, I descended to the kitchen. There were no perishables on hand, but the freezer was full of meats and vegetables. Charles came up behind me as I was taking inventory of the food supply. He put his arms around me from behind and said, “Why don’t I take you to that little restaurant in Waynesville that you’re so fond of?”

“Meaning you’re not fond of it?”

“You know better than that, babe. I was merely trying to make it sound special for you.”

“Ready when you are,” I said, and we were off.

Sunday we slept late, made a quick breakfast using the contents of the freezer, and were on the way back to Atlanta by midafternoon. I’d been worried about our takeoff, but Charles assured me that the climbing rate of the Cessna was more than adequate to clear the ridges, especially at the lower end of the valley.

“That certainly beats the heck out of driving to the mountains,” Charles said as he taxied the plane up to the hangar in Marietta.