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“Looks like we’ll have to make due with each other,” he said. And so they did. They drank the bottle of wine he had brought, and opened another. They talked and even laughed as they always did. They were nearly finished with the second bottle of wine when she was teasing him about something or other.
“So serious, Inspector,” she smiled.
He nodded and met her eyes. “Yes, I am a serious man. It isn’t as bad as you think, you know. Seriousness.”
“Jack, I’ve had more than enough dark and serious days for one lifetime. I can’t do that anymore.” She tried to sound as light and breezy as they had been before, but something had shifted in their conversation.
“Serious doesn’t have to mean dark, you know,” he said still holding her gaze.
“Prove it,” she answered.
“All right,” he said with a small smile. “I will.”
---
In the weeks that followed, there was plenty of darkness. Murder was always serious, of course. But Jack seemed determined to prove what he set out to prove. His flirtatious banter, which had always been strong, was particularly on point.
Phryne decided to fight fire with fire. She didn’t share stories about her childhood often, but she found herself telling him about the swallow brooch that her father had hocked for a bottle of beer. It was a challenge. What do you say to this bit of darkness?
She thought she had the upper hand until he was pinning the brooch to her dress days later. Her voice was thick with emotion when she said, “They’ll have to fight me for it.”
She couldn’t be sure, but she thought the gift of the brooch said I see your darkness, and I am offering you light. It was almost too much, but instead of pulling away like she might have with anyone else, she found herself pulling closer.
--
Trust her father to ruin everything. He reminded her of why she refused to take anything seriously. It was hard not to put distance between the new, comfortable intimacy she and Jack were sharing.
She tried to tell him how she was feeling, in her own way, with the story about her mother losing all reason at the Twilight Waltz. She was skeptical, and she told him so.
Days later, he asked her to waltz with him in that very room. “What’s the risk?” he asked. They whirled around the room together, and, in the end, she wondered if maybe her mother had perhaps been right after all. She didn’t say anything about it to Jack, but she was sure he could tell what she was feeling. She couldn’t seem to hide it.
It was the badge that convinced her though. He presented her with that Buffalo Bill badge, and it was at once the most serious and the most silly thing she’d ever experienced. It was a piece of him. A piece of his past, which he was usually so reluctant to share. That was serious, she knew. But it was also sweet and innocent in a way that overwhelmed her. It was in that moment that he proved his point.
When she offered to give his badge back after their tennis game when all was solved and done, it was a challenge. A small one, though. She was a detective, after all. She expected him to insist that she keep it. As he pinned it to her dress again, it felt even more serious than it had the first time. And somehow, even more gentle.
--
When Jack made his romantic overture, her mind was whirling with concern for her missing father, but it all stopped for just a moment. She meant it when she said she wanted it “more than anything.” Even so, the moment lost to the mystery.
Before she knew what was what, she had committed to flying her father to England and walking Dot down the aisle in a last minute wedding before she left. If she were honest, she would admit that it was comforting to be so busy rather than have time to think about what Jack’s romantic overture might mean. What she might want it to mean.
She had been moved by her father’s declaration of love for her mother. Moved enough to agree to fly him home. Maybe it didn’t have to be all dark when it came to Father either.
Then she’d watched Dot and Hugh get married. The sweetest couple she’d ever known, who both possessed a strength that often surprised her, pledged their lives together. She wasn’t one who usually got emotional at weddings, but this one was different. Maybe she was different.
They waved goodbye to the couple, and Phryne looked at the sky. “Jack, look,” she said, pointing out a shooting star. She turned to find him looking at her thoughtfully. She smiled and grabbed his hand. “Walk with me.”
He nodded, and they moved away from the group together.
“Everyone has asked me why I’m doing this but you,” she said.
He nodded again and said, “You know what you have to do.”
She smiled, remembering the last time he had said similar words to her. “Well, I don’t, really.” She chuckled softly. “I’m not sure I know what I’m doing at all, but I know that it’s worth it if my parents can salvage their marriage. If they can make until forever, then anyone can.”
He smiled, but he cautioned her, “You know you are not responsible for their happiness. You don’t have to take care of them.”
“I know,” she said, “but I want to try to make things right for them if I can. They’ve had a lot of dark and serious days, and maybe it doesn’t have to be quite so dark for them in the future.”
He stopped walking and turned to face her. “What about you?”
She considered his face for a moment before she spoke. “Maybe it’s time for all of us to move forward. Maybe…” She trailed off. She wasn’t sure she knew how to say it yet.
“Maybe,” he said, nodding. She smiled at how certain he seemed with such an uncertain word.
They walked a bit more, speaking of the wedding and her trip. He saw her to her car, and bid her goodnight with a kiss to her hand, which he was still holding. She laughed because she was filled with joy. “Jack….” she said in a breathless voice.
“Good night, Miss Fisher,” he said again and left.
--
Jack, it seemed, wasn’t quite done making his point. What could be more serious and less dark than a last minute goodbye at the airfield? Phryne’s heart surged with joy at the sight of him. Come after me, she said and he kissed her. It was all a blur--a happy, serious blur that didn’t come into focus completely until she was in the sky.
After a day of flying, she had a better sense of her heart. She sent Jack a telegram:
STAY WHERE YOU ARE (STOP) WILL RETURN (STOP) LETTER FOLLOWS (STOP)
In her small hotel room, she wrote a letter when she should probably have been sleeping.
My dear Jack,
It has been so long since I’ve flown any great distance that I had quite forgotten the way that being in the sky can make sense of everything. It seems my thoughts keep going back to you from our very first crime scene when you thought me nothing more than a nuisance to all the times I have trusted you with my life. Mostly I have been thinking about our parting. I would never take back my romantic overture, but if I may amend it? After a day in the sky, I find all I want in the world is to come home to you.
I have a long way to go yet, but I will return as soon as I can. Don’t solve too many murders without me.
Yours,
Phryne