Charlie, who was still plastered to the ceiling as the airplane continued to drop, could only scream. Then he was pressed against the floor of the plane as it began to climb again. Finally, Charlie was able to scramble back into his seat and get his seat belt fastened. A clap of thunder nearly deafened him and masked his next scream.

Then, magically, the airplane broke out of the clouds and the runway lay dead ahead of them. The pilot set the plane down as if nothing had happened, and on the ramp, everybody got out. Charlie vomited a couple of times. “I ain’t going back in this thing,” he vowed.

“Don’t worry,” the pilot said, “the storms are passing to the north as we speak. In an hour, it will be bright sunshine.” It began to rain heavily.

Frank got out his phone and dialed the number he had called yesterday for the cab.

“Hello?” A woman’s voice.

“Can I speak to Ernie, please.”

“He’s asleep.”

“Well, I need a cab at the airport.”

“Ernie don’t work on Sundays. He’s a Holy Roller.”

“Huh?”

“A Holy Roller—you know, religious-like.”

“Do me a favor and put Ernie on the phone.”

“He don’t like it when I wake him.”

“He won’t like missing the money I’m gonna offer him.”

“All right, I’ll try. Hang on.” She put the phone down, and Frank could hear a couple of kids babbling and whining in the background.

“What’s going on?” Charlie asked, wiping the rain from his eyes.

“She’s getting Ernie for me.”

“Hello?” Ernie sounded sleepy and pissed off.

“Ernie, it’s me from yesterday. I need a cab at the airport now.”

“I don’t work on Sundays.”

“Two hundred dollars,” Frank said.

“Not even for two hundred.”

“Tell you what, Ernie, I’ll rent your car for a couple of hours for two hundred, and I’ll drive it myself.”

“Listen, that’s a classic Plymouth—can’t be replaced.”

“Come on, Ernie, how much?”

“Five hundred.”

“Done. Get your ass to the airport.” Frank hung up. “He’ll be here in a minute.” They joined the pilot, who was already inside the airplane. The rain pounded on the aluminum top.

—

Stone and Caroline went down for breakfast; he wanted to get Caroline dressed and out of the bedroom before she killed him. Mary made omelets with cheese and ham and gave them freshly squeezed orange juice and sensational coffee.

After breakfast Stone checked the radar on his iPhone. “Looks great,” he said. “The thunderstorms have passed, and we’ve got a clear shot at Teterboro.”

“Can’t we wait until tomorrow?” Caroline asked.

“Nope, another line of thunderstorms is coming tomorrow,” he lied. Stone didn’t like lying, but his health was at stake.

“I’d better pack, then.” She went upstairs, then came back with her bag and his. “I packed for you, too,” she said.