Michelle Amos fumbled with her seat belt, the sound of her sister's soft laughter filling her ear.

"Oh, shut up," Michelle said, her voice shaky but without rancor. "Help me with this thing, will you?"

Stephanie Stone leaned over and gently pushed Michelle's shaking hands aside. "Let me do it for you, big sister." She tilted her head to smile into Michelle's pale face. "I knew you hated flying, but I didn't realize how much."

"Now you know. It's a handicap, and and laughing at the handicapped is rude."

Stephanie's laughter found full voice. "As long as you can still make jokes, I don't have to worry about digging around in my purse for the smelling salts." Steph's slender, perfectly manicured fingers made quick work of the seatbelt, and she leaned back, brushing her honey-colored hair out of her face.

Michelle settled back in her seat, willing her muscles to relax. "You always think I'm joking," she complained.

"That's because you always are. Try to relax, 'Chelle. It's a short flight."

"How short?" Michelle glanced out the window worriedly as the small jet's engines revved.

"About an hour."

"We should have rented a car. We could drive to north Georgia in about eight hours, you know. We’d be safer on the ground."

"Not when you're driving, we aren’t. You drive like somebody’s grandmother until you get on an interstate, then you hit speeds that would qualify you for the pole position at the Indy 500."

Michelle blew out a one-syllable laugh that was followed immediately by a squeaky inhalation of fright as the airplane jerked into motion. She let go of the armrest only long enough to pull two tiny troll dolls out of the front pocket of her beige slacks.

"Here," she said, holding one out. "Take the green-eyed one."

Stephanie shook her head in fond exasperation. "You knew I'd forget mine, didn't you?"

"Yes. Take it. Give it a couple of good squeezes."

Michelle's fingers closed over the remaining miniature troll, a blue-eyed, pink-haired version. She pushed her thumb into the little round belly of the doll several times, then grabbed the padded armrest again, the doll trapped safely beneath her palm.

"Feel better?" Stephanie asked, amusement in her voice.

"Much," Michelle said. She relaxed a little. The airplane rolled to a gentle stop and Michelle looked out the window. She was surprised at how far away the small airport terminal was already. “I’m homesick, though.”

Stephanie chuckled. “You are not homesick, you’re a chicken looking for an excuse to go flying out of this particular nest.”

“That’s possible.”

Stephanie made soft chicken squawking noises in Michelle’s ear. “Chicken,” she said.

Suddenly, the engines crescendoed. “Oh, God,” Michelle breathed, tightening her grip on the armrests. The plane lurched forward.

Stephanie slid her arm through Michelle's and laid her hand atop Michelle's. She did not try to speak over the noise of the jet engines, but she knew she did not need to. The sisters-half sisters, really-had always had a strong tactile connection. Like twins, Michelle Amos and Stephanie Stone communicated as much nonverbally as most people do out loud.

They teased one another mercilessly, laughing and joking and taking life less than seriously. But when one of them had a serious problem, the other responded. For Michelle, strapped into a chair, her life in the hands of a couple of strangers wearing wings on their tailored suits, the familiar, loving touch of Stephanie’s hand was reassuring.

The plane lifted off smoothly and began climbing. Stephanie kept her hand on Michelle's until the plane's engines and Michelle's breathing began to level out.

Michelle managed a weak smile. "That was…interesting," she said.

"If you'd fly more often, I'll bet you'd learn to like it."

"I'll bet I wouldn't. It's scary enough that you go flying off into the wild blue yonder every other week."

"Then you probably won't want to know that I'm taking flying lessons."

Michelle groaned.

"Take off your seatbelt and get comfortable," Stephanie said. "Put your troll back in your pocket before you squash the poor thing flat."

Powered by Bravenet.com