Aboard the Wishing Star (20 page)

What I'd give for a nice cool drink right now.

But there was no point getting anything to drink before she went through security, because they'd just take it away the moment she got there. Everything seemed to go smoothly as she went through and she waited on the other side for her bag.

What's taking so long?

A female security officer went over to her bag. "Is this your bag?"

"Yes."

What now?

"Please follow me."

If things keep happening I'm never going to make my flight. Random searching happens. Of course it had to happen to me right now.

The officer opened the bag and pulled out three paperback books. "These won't scan."

Yep, got to worry about those folks who travel with books. You just never know about them.

"Well, they're just books."

"We still have to check." The officer ran the wand around, pulled more things out, until finally she was satisfied. "Hope you can get everything back in there."

"Me too."
No thanks to you.

Kara stuffed the bag again, jamming things in until it closed, then hurried for the tram to take her to the terminal where gate seven was.

On the tram she exhaled and leaned against the wall. Oh, for a good cold drink. Once she reached her gate, she'd get a drink and something to eat. She hadn't eaten all day and it was lunchtime.

She exited the tram and hurried to gate seven, which was of course at the end of the terminal. The closer she got, the more a sense something was wrong grew.

It was the last gate in the terminal.

It was also the wrong airline, the wrong flight number and the wrong destination.

Oh shit.

Kara reached into her jeans pocket and pulled out the crumpled ticket.

Gate seventy-four. Oh shit.

Panic hit her. She was going to miss her flight.

Seventy-four was nowhere near seven.

She started to run back to the tram.

The tram only went one way. She turned to a security guard.

"I took a wrong turn. How do I get to gate seventy four?"

He pointed. "You have to go back through security."

She took off running again.

Oh shit. I'm not going to make my flight.

Waiting in line at security, the thought came again.

Maybe I'm not supposed to make this flight. Maybe I'm not supposed to be on that plane.

Again Nate's words rang through her mind.

Stay. Just a few more days. Don't go.

Then it was her turn to go through security again and her attention went to making it through. Once she through, she ran to the tram, which would take her to gate seventy-four. She reached it just as the doors closed and it pulled away.

Oh God. Just missed it.

Thirsty, hungry, sweaty, tired, she closed her eyes.

She felt as if she was in some movie that kept rolling, and she'd never get to the end or the credits.

What if it was a mistake to go?

She sent Nate a text.
Having trouble. Might not make my flight.

He texted her right back.
You could stay with me. I would come get you.

The next tram rolled in and the doors opened. She stepped inside. The doors closed.

Is this all our lives are? Step on the tram, step off the tram, move to the next spot, just keep moving? Why is there never time to sit still and think?

How could she think what to do when running?

There's no time.

The tram stopped and the doors opened. Out the door, she took off at a run, passing all the places where she could get a drink. At this point she'd be lucky to reach the gate and make her flight.

Her clothes clung to her as she ran, the carryon bumping along behind her as she wove in and out of the crowds moving both ways.

And then she reached it. Gate seventy-four. Right airline, right flight number, destination and time.

Ten minutes to be on board. She ran into the ladies room, hurrying as fast as she could to take care of things, then hurried out again.

Five minutes. She spotted a small stand with drinks and sandwiches at the end of the terminal.

No line. Maybe because no one wanted to eat that food.
But her stomach growled and her tongue felt like sand paper it was so dry
.

Kara bought a cola and a chicken salad sandwich and hurried to board, just in time.

She found her seat on the isle, the two seats next to her, empty. She heaved her carryon into the overhead bin and then sat.

Whew. Made it. On the plane.

A text came through from Nate.
Did you make your flight?

She texted back.
Yes.

She opened her cola and drank from it thirstily then opened her sandwich and took a few bites. Nothing to get excited about, but flying on an empty stomach wasn't a good idea. She got nervous enough.

The people who had seats next to her approached and she put the cap on her cola, thrust it into the bag and stood to let them in while she waited for them to stow their bags.

How silly. Of course she had to go home to her job, her bills, her house.

Even if she did want to start over somewhere else. Even if there was Nate and Florida seemed a nice place to live.

She had to go back to work and sell her house. She was doing the right thing. The sensible thing. Anyway, Nate had a life of his own.

They were seated and she sat again. The moment she sat, reaching for her seatbelt, the bag fell sideways and cola spilled all over her jeans and the new white sweater she'd bought to throw on if she got chilly.

Oh shit. Cap must have been loose.

She'd probably ruined the new sweater. There was no way to change now or to wash the sticky stuff off. As if she wasn't sticky enough after running through the airport, now she was sticky from cola and had a soggy sandwich. It was as if some invisible force had dumped the cola on her the minute she started thinking she belonged in Ohio. She looked down at her hands, wondering if this could be a message. A feeling crept in. A feeling she'd made a mistake.

The woman next to her handed her a napkin from her purse and Kara thanked her. As she wiped off what she could, one last text came through her phone before she had to shut it off.

Be safe.

She held the phone, thinking again what a wonderful man he was. Maybe she'd made a mistake. Maybe she really wasn't supposed to be on this plane.

She closed her eyes and sat back, suddenly exhausted. Completely exhausted and strangely sleepy.

For the first time in her life, she dozed off on a plane as it took off. Fear didn't enter her mind once.

It was the bumpiness that woke her. The man next to her commented the plane needed to get up higher to get out of this weather.

What's going on?

She frowned and looked out the window just as the plane hit another air pocket. The two men seated on the isle seats in front of her were talking about the rough ride, showing concern.

What if this plane is meant to crash and I'm not supposed to be on it? What if I never see Nate again? How fast we can be taken away. What am I doing here?

Her stomach clenched. She closed her eyes and sent up prayers for safety and protection.

They hit another bump and her stomach did a flip.

It's okay; it's going to be okay. It's like Nate says. Why be afraid of something that might happen? Fear is for things that are happening. Everything else is just you scaring yourself.

Every time they hit another bump she repeated the words in her head.

It's just a bump. Everything is fine.

After a while, the bumps smoothed out and the attendants were able to start beverage service. Kara got up to use the restroom.

It felt so good to wash her hands, dab wet paper towels on her sticky jeans, and run some water onto her sweater with the hope it wouldn't stain.

Back in her seat she asked for water and took the peanuts offered. The sandwich was a lost cause so she gave the whole bag to the attendant to throw away, cola and all.

She flipped through a magazine, listening to the passengers next to her as they murmured to each other. She wasn't trying to listen, but they were so sweet to one another and in love.

An ache far greater than her rumbling stomach settled within her. One longing to be filled.

Why was she leaving when he could be the one, the love of her life, the one she hungered for?

*****

At last the plane landed. She checked her phone again. Daryl had left texts and phone messages. She dreaded talking to him. He wanted to pick her up at the airport.

She texted back.
No. My car is here.

Kara looked out the window at the black, barren trees and the ground covered with snow. Ohio in January was a cold, unwelcoming scene. Gray sky and skeletal trees. They'd already received two inches of snow while she was gone and more coming down.

Wish I'd paid extra to park in the parking garage instead of this lot.

She reached her car, found her car keys, opened the trunk, and retrieved the scraper then cleaned off the snow on the windows and doors. It wasn't until she was done that she noticed the two flat tires.

Oh no. Both tires flat. Of all the bad luck.
She called it in to her road service.

"Ma'am we have you on the list, but it's going to be at least four hours. Can you find a warm place inside to wait?"

"I can't wait here four hours. I have to get home."

"Sorry."

She hung up and called for a taxi. Even if she had the car towed tonight none of the tire places would be open.

This homecoming was already not going well. She wished more than ever she'd stayed in Florida with Nate.

*****

Kara wandered into her kitchen and checked the fridge. One can of strawberry diet shake and a diet cola. A liquid diet was not what she had in mind tonight. Opening cabinet doors and the freezer to look in, she sighed.

There's nothing to eat in this house. Once her car was fixed she'd have to go to the grocery store.

She ordered a pizza and tried to call Viv, but the line was busy. She left a message saying she'd made it home okay.

Kara showered, put on warm flannel pajamas and her robe, and turned on the TV while waiting for her pizza. Her phone rang.

"Hello?"

Nate's voice rumbled through the phone line, "Hey, yellow bird."

"Hey, Nate." She smiled and leaned back against the brown tweed sofa.

"I wanted to be sure you arrived home safely."

"I'm trying to stay warm in this winter chill, but I'm fine. It's good to hear from you."

"Is your heat on?"

"Oh, yes." Her body warmed as his voice moved over her like an electric blanket.
It is now.

"There's no snow down here. Going to be sunny and seventy. I heard you're going to get hit pretty hard."

She could listen to his voice all night. "That's not good."

"Why, what's wrong?"

"I had to take a taxi home because no one can fix a flat tonight, so my car is still at the airport."

"Damn. I wish I'd been there."

"I do too. It's been a long evening. I wish I didn't have to go in to work tomorrow."

"Then call in sick. Take one more day for yourself."

"No, I really can't. The work will have piled up. I have to go in."

Nate kept silent for a moment before speaking. "You worried about Daryl?"

"A little."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

A knock sounded on the door. "My pizza is here."

"I'll wait while you get it."

She put the phone down and went to answer the door, paid for the pizza, and closed the door again. The pizza smelled so good. She picked up the phone. "Okay, I'm back."

"What kind of pizza did you get?"

"Pepperoni. My favorite."

"Sounds delicious. Well sweetheart, I'll let you go so you can eat, but I want you to know you can call or text me any time of night or day. I always have my phone on."

"Thank you."

"Are you all locked in for the night?"

"Yes."

"Good. Will you call me tomorrow and let me know how you are?"

"Yes, I will."

"And if Daryl gives you any problems, you call me, okay?"

"Okay."

"Good night, yellow bird. Enjoy your pizza."

"I will. Good night, Nate." She hung up and opened the pizza box, reaching for a slice.

He'd called. Viv was wrong. Nate hadn't been giving her a line. It wasn't over.

She turned on the weather channel proving Nate right. The weatherman predicted a huge snowstorm. Maybe she'd get snowed in and wouldn't have to face Daryl for a few days. She could clean the house and get it ready to put on the market. A snowstorm wasn't always a bad thing.

Her phone rang. "Hello?"

"Did I wake you? Are you in bed?" Daryl said.

Kara muted the TV. "No, I was catching the weather, but I'm tired and won't be up long."

"You should know we're expecting a snowstorm. You need to leave early tomorrow before the roads get bad."

"Right." Kara glanced at the clock. Eleven fifteen. She hoped he wouldn't talk too long.

"Do you have snow tires?"

"No, but it wouldn't matter if I did."

"Why is that?"

She'd slipped. Great. She was too tired to fabricate and unaccustomed to making things up anyway.

"Because my car has flats."

"You'll need a ride to work. I'll pick you up."

"No, Daryl." She stood, clicked off the TV and paced across the room. "I'll take a taxi."

"Don't be ridiculous. I can give you a ride. Be ready at seven thirty."

How could she tell her boss she didn't want to ride with him? "Well, all right."

"Get some sleep. I'll see you in the morning."

"Good night." As Kara hung up the phone, her shoulders sagged. If Daryl wasn't her boss, she'd have said no. But she needed her job, so how was she supposed to do that?