Aviation-nut Jo Mack is more than a future A&P mechanic, she's also the lone survivor of a personal hell that has haunted her every step. Ethan Taylor is the latest over-the-top success to come out of Silicon Valley, but now he must face an even bigger challenge-- the scarred past that has come along for the ride. Can the mechanic and the nerd find hope in the clear, dandelion sky?
Chapter 1 The Golden Touch I
May had been good to him. April hadn't been so bad either, but May had changed him forever. Ethan Taylor slumped into the easy chair like someone who didn't have a care in the world. Last week a sizable software company founded by yet another college dropout, had bought Ethan's eighth startup, and only true success. On the face of it, it was nothing to get excited about. Until you got to the numbers. Big fat obscene numbers. Used to the everyday obscene, Silicon Valley had shrugged off the acquisition with a yawn, but Ethan wasn't yawning; these numbers were happening to him.
For this college dropout, it had been nothing short of life changing. Those in the Valley who paid attention to the "smaller deals" knew something exceptional had happened, and talked of the acquisition with a sense of awe approaching reverence. CEOs, founders, ones with the current rash of the Midas touch, explained it in terms of luck and the perfect storm.
That Ethan had been lucky, he knew all too well, but he'd also owned a large percentage of his company, and that had made a world of difference. He'd had very few investors, and even fewer employees with stock options, so that by the time his startup sold, Ethan had walked away with the lion's share.
Each day Ethan went about in a daze, pinching himself, hoping he wasn't having the mother of all lucid dreams. He was living the Silicon Valley pipe dream, the dream of outrageous personal wealth, and he was wide-awake.
Even with this success, he'd been two years and several months late of making his first five million by the age of thirty-- a promise he'd quietly made to himself before entering community college fifteen years ago. At thirty-two, he'd made more than good. He had proved what he'd wanted to, right from the start.
That he wasn't his father.
And never would be.
* * * *
Josephine Mack hated her name. Shortened down to Jo was more bearable; the remaining letters seemed so unnecessary, like an appendage just waiting to be jettisoned. So most people called her Jo.
Thirty-year-old Jo Mack zipped up her worn denim jacket and looked out over the darkening horizon of Cielo Grande, Arizona. As much as she hated her name, she hated other things more. Like the beast she carried on her back. No one had seen her come out of the ladies' room at the grubby gas station just now, but if they had, her large camo backpack would've been the first thing they spotted. It was a bulky beast, the way it dragged one shoulder lower than the other. She had a lot to carry. Her pack was jammed with clothes and textbooks, the bare essentials of getting through the day. Makeup had been stuffed into the front zip pocket, but only enough to make her feel like a woman. Lipstick weighed next to nothing compared to those textbooks. Those books were killing her.
A few years back Jo had enrolled in community college, and ever since, she'd been pushing her way through, come what may. Grandpa called her his wise child for furthering her education, but he was always saying things like that, things to make her feel smarter, better than she really was. But that was Grandpa. Jo caught herself, and gulped hard. That had been Grandpa.
It didn't seem possible that he was no longer with her. It'd happened so fast. His stroke had been sudden and raw and recent. So recent she couldn't think back on that day without tears.
Necessity forced Jo back to the present.
With Grandpa's death, she'd had to leave their apartment, for his pension had paid their bills while she attended school. Though still going to classes, she was presently without a home. Jo hadn't been "without a home" for long, but she already despised the word homeless. As though she hadn't paid her bills and had been kicked out onto the street. Their landlord had been paid. No one was hunting her for money due him.
She wasn't homeless in the truest sense of the word, she had options.
There was always Jonah, her lazy, leave-the-trash-on-the-counters, ex-boyfriend. He'd let her use his couch, if she asked him. He had issues though, bigger than the filthiness of his apartment, and Jo knew she'd have to be crawling the sidewalks before she ever took him back. Zach hadn't been so bad, and she could always rely on good old Mike. Any of them would help her. If she asked.
While not having a roof over her head stank like few things could, Jo was determined. Grandpa was no longer there, so she had to depend on her own strength even more, and not on someone else's. She'd been lucky so far. She had places to sleep without owing anyone a single thing, and those options were the ones Jo always took.
The breeze pushed at her, breaking through her thoughts.
Jo leaned into the wind, shut her mind to what hurt, and grinned. Oh, that felt good. The May night felt good on her face.
Since the Cielo Grande Mission was most often full, Jo headed for the municipal airport where she hoped to once more find a certain van unlocked. In the few weeks that she'd been without any real place to sleep, that van had been her refuge. Maybe its owner kept it unlocked all the time-- Jo had no idea-- all she knew was that she kept finding its doors unlocked at night. It'd been perfect. She had luck on her side in more ways than one. She wasn't carrying debt, for between Grandpa's pension, and her community college scholarships, she didn't have any student loans. Yet.
All she had to do was last out what was left of the semester, and she'd be able to use the coming summer to find steady work, and a place to hang her jacket.
That was her plan.
A backpack slung over her shoulder, Jo hopped the airport's short chain link fence, then headed for Campbell Aviation's main hangar. She doubted anyone cared that she slept in the van, for she wasn't hurting it in any way. She always left it as she had found it. No one cared. Not wanting to test her theory, Jo tried not to attract attention as she rounded the hangar, and spotted the van parked beside the structure, as always. It was useful that the airport was never as busy at night, for there were few people around to ask why she was there. Taking a look about her, Jo opened the van, got in, and shut the door.
Climbing into the back, she made herself at home.
Her backpack wasn't as soft as a light feather pillow, but it would do. Jo curled up under her jacket and listened to the sounds of a nearby runway as an aircraft taxied before takeoff. She loved the sounds of the airport, the rush of engines as aircraft lifted into the sky. The controlled power, the freedom of flight was something she'd never been able to find by staying on the ground. Jo closed her eyes, and listened as the plane grabbed some air, and climbed into that great expanse of freedom.
With a sigh, she let herself relax and drift off to sleep.
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