The Bovine Connection (22 page)

A
ngelica awoke to see Michael was gone. She looked around and saw he had folded her clothes neatly and placed them in the chair across from her. She slowly got up and started getting dressed. As she was putting her knit top back on, she saw Michael outside the window talking to Sammy on the front porch. She heard his voice get louder and then the door opened. “Well, good morning, beautiful, sexy, lady!” he announced cheerfully.

“Good morning, Michael,” Angelica said as she shyly glanced down and then looked back up at him wondering how she’d ever find the strength to walk out the door. “What time is it?” Angelica asked as she looked around and noticed the clock on the microwave said seven twenty-two.

“Would you like some coffee?”

“Yes, that would be nice.” Angelica grabbed her purse.

“Feel free to shower. There are fresh towels and a robe in my bathroom upstairs,” Michael said, as he walked into the kitchen. Angelica went upstairs to the loft: Michael’s room. There was a book and some clothes lying on the bed so she walked over, curious to see what he was reading. Several pages were folded and the book about Abraham Lincoln, titled “The Ancient One” was water-stained and worn. She reached down, picked up his t-shirt, and smelled it. It smelled of Michael and his cologne, she thought. She felt heat in her chest.

Walking around his room, she noticed a picture of his mother and father, and a few pictures of Michael during his travels. One, in particular, was Michael standing in front of the Sphinx and The Great Pyramid in Egypt. He was smiling and wearing the same white and blue plaid shirt from their day before. “He must love that shirt,” she thought aloud. He had a unique smile-- wide and confident.

“If I just had one more day here with him… No, focus on the story,” she quickly scolded herself.

After Angelica finished in the bathroom, she made her way back downstairs where Michael had prepared her an omelet. “Wow, thank you. That was very thoughtful.”

Michael walked over and took Angelica’s hands into his. He looked down at her palms, turning her hands over and rubbing the creases of her wrist. “See these lines? They were the first thing I noticed about you… We’ll maybe not the first.” He smiled sheepishly. “But I don’t know why, I couldn’t stop looking at them,” he whispered. He looked sincerely up at Angelica and then stepped away. “Here –- sit down and eat before you leave.” He pulled out a chair from the table.

There was a strange uneasiness in the kitchen that morning. She was caught in the tug and pull of whether to stay or go.

“Okay.” Angelica smiled as she sat down and started eating.

“When will I see you again?” Michael asked as he sat down beside her.

“As soon as you would like… Come to D.C.,” she said, softly.

“Okay, when?” He smiled.

Angelica laughed, “Whenever you like… I’ll be back there in a few days.”

“All right… I have to be in New York later this week, so I’ll stop off in D.C. on my way. Angelica, why hasn’t some guy grabbed you up?”

“I don’t know.” She laughed. “Maybe it’s because I love beginnings and endings. It’s the middle that bores me.” Angelica blushed. “I’m sorry - I heard that somewhere… love that line,” Angelica said, playfully.

“You won’t get bored with me, will you?” Michael asked. Angelica was taking a bite of her omelet.

“No way -- especially if you can cook like this!” She gleamed like a little girl.

Michael stood up to pour more coffee into his cup.

Angelica lowered her chin and wondered, “Is this really happening?” She glanced up and shook her head. “How did I end up in your kitchen on a ranch in Montana?” She smiled and exhaled a breath.

Michael grinned. “I’m glad you did.”

Angelica rose up from the table. “I need to get back to the lodge and pack.”

“Okay, I’ll walk you out.” Michael took Angelica’s hand and walked beside her to her car, standing at the door. “Call me when you’re in Denver.”

Angelica smiled and then appeared sad as she shut the door and rolled down the window. “I will.”

They kept eye contact until Angelica turned the wheel and drove down the drive to the main road.

J
ust past the old gas station where she had stopped when she first arrived in Elberton, she picked up her cell phone and called her mother. “Hi Mom, sorry I haven’t called.” 

“It’s fine, Angelica, I know you’re a busy woman.”

Angelica heard the irritation in her mother’s voice. “Yes, the magazine keeps me very busy. How are you?”

“I’m okay. How are you? Met a nice man to marry yet? You know, I’m not getting any younger. I’d sure like to have grandchildren before I die,” her mother said in an extremely concerned voice.

“Mom, please, seriously?” Angelica released a breath of frustration and rolled her eyes. “Do we always have to have this conversation?”

When, Angelica wondered, would her mother stop asking her that question? Angelica wasn’t sure she even wanted children.

“Angelica, having you was the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I just want you to be happy. I worry about you all alone in D.C. And the drinking … I noticed while I was visiting you, you were drinking at night. I’m not trying to lecture you, but drinking each night to sleep is a bad habit, and…”

Angelica interrupted her, “Mom, hey, I have a call coming in and I have to take it. Can I call you later?” she asked, feeling as if she were going to scream if she had to listen to one more lecture from her mother.

“Yes. All right, dear,” her mother murmured.

“Okay, I’ll call you later. I love you.” Angelica said as she sighed and tossed her cell phone onto the passenger seat. “Geez!” she blurted.

After turning in her rental car, Angelica boarded the shuttle to the airport and placed her luggage on the metal rack. There were several people on the shuttle with her. Across from her, an older gray-haired couple; toward the front, an Asian couple in their early forties with a young boy; and tucked away in the back was a muscular man in his late thirties with dark brown hair, blue jeans, and a black baseball cap and black hoodie.

Angelica felt exhausted. She laid her head back and closed her eyes for a brief moment before the teenagers in their North Face clothing began rambling loudly about their trip through Yellowstone Park as they boarded the shuttle. Angelica planted her feet defiantly, opened her eyes and gazed around. She wanted to sleep.

The shuttle stopped at her terminal and Angelica grabbed her luggage and eagerly stepped off the bus. She passed through security, hurried to her gate and boarded the plane. Settled into her seat, her head began to bob downwards, and she quickly dozed off.

T
here was a hard jolt. The plane landed roughly on the tarmac. She began to regain her senses as the jovial flight attendant announced that the flight had arrived at the gate and everyone was free to use their cell phones. Angelica looked out the window and saw the dark grey clouds above the sparse golden prairie landscape surrounding the Denver Airport. She was surprised she had slept so hard and felt disoriented. The flight went quickly, she couldn’t even remember taking off. She immediately thought about Michael and the little amount of sleep she had while they were together. She was missing him already, she realized. Angelica looked over and saw a man in a business suit sitting in the aisle seat beside her. He never looked her way.

Angelica leaned down and found her purse under the seat in front of her. She opened it and grabbed her mirror and small makeup bag. She pulled out her concealer and dabbed the dark circles under her eyes then ran lip balm across her lips while the other passengers unloaded their bags and exited the plane.

After almost everyone was off the plane, she stood up and lifted the overhead compartment to grab her bag. The only bag left was her black suitcase. Angelica felt an adrenaline rush of panic and started moving down the aisle, opening all the compartments that had remained shut.
Where was her tan satchel?
she wondered. She was absolutely certain she had placed it next to her suitcase. The flight attendant heard the commotion and looked out from the beverage area.

“Ma’am!”

Angelica didn’t respond.

“Ma’am, is there a problem?”

Angelica yelled, “Yes, my bag is missing!”

“Okay, calm down Miss. I will help you look for it. What does it look like?”

Angelica was now looking in and under every seat on the plane. “I have to find my satchel!”

The flight attendant had now gathered the other attendants and they were each searching the entire plane. “I’m sorry, ma’am, someone must have grabbed your bag by mistake,” the woman casually announced.

Angelica looked at her. “My laptop and my files… I can’t believe this!” Angelica grabbed her purse and suitcase and ran off the plane, bumping into a slow-moving man as she passed by him. “I’m so sorry!” she blurted.

The attendant yelled, “Ma’am, ma’am!” Angelica didn’t acknowledge her. The attendant looked at her colleague in the beverage area by the phone on the wall. “Call security!”

Angelica ran down the tunnel from the plane to the gate and slowed to a stop. There were so many people. She looked around, closely eyeing everyone’s bags as they walked by. She was in a panic. Her heart was racing. She sprinted into the crowd, rushing in and out, pushing people and almost knocking them over with her suitcase. She grabbed at every tan-colored satchel or bag until a man snapped, “Hey, what the hell are you doing?” Angelica just looked at him and stopped in the middle of the crowd. She stood there frozen as everyone continued to push past her. She started shaking her head and her mouth was open in disbelief. She quickly turned to see two men in uniforms standing in front of her. “Miss, we need you to come with us.”

Angelica gasped, “No, I have to find my satchel.” She looked away toward to crowd of people moving past.

“Miss, you must calm down. Now come with us calmly or we will have to take you forcefully.”

Angelica looked back around to the security officer and met his eyes. “Really, are you serious?”

“Yes, ma’am, I am. This way please.” The officer turned and led the way. Angelica followed, as the other officer walked closely behind her.

They passed by a counter where a security officer was patting down a woman who looked like an average soccer mom; she appeared mortified. The officers then led Angelica through a door with bold letters that read, “Authorized Personal Only.” Once inside they walked down a narrow hallway and entered into a bright room with a non-descript table and four chairs. “Have a seat.” One of the officers said. Angelica let out a breath of frustration and sat down at the table. “Do you have your identification?” he said, as he extended his open palm. Angelica pulled her wallet from her purse and showed the officer her driver’s license and then took out a business card and put it on the table. The officer laid her driver’s license down and picked up her business card, “Ms. Angelica Bradley with the
Liberator Magazine
.”

Angelica looked up at him with irritation. “Yes, that’s me. Have I done something wrong, officer?” she asked with a taunt attitude. He looked at his partner and then back at Angelica.

“Couple things…” he said sharply. “First, if you continue with the attitude, we could just be here all day. I’ve had my lunch.” The officer looked at his partner. “Have you had yours?” “Sure have,” his partner responded.

Angelica looked sincerely at the officer. “I apologize… I’ve had very little sleep lately.” Angelica felt tired. She’d just comply and hope to be on her way soon.

“Now, why are you running around this airport grabbing at other passengers’ bags?” And what business do you have in Colorado?”

Angelica looked at him and let out another breath in frustration. “I’m here to interview a Doctor at the University of Colorado - and someone has stolen my satchel! It was on the plane with me and then when I got up to get it from the overhead compartment it was gone. Look, someone has stolen it and there are very important and confidential documents in there.” She thought for a moment. “And I can’t even begin to tell you how important the files on my laptop are. So perhaps, you could just let me leave so I can go call my editor!” Angelica looked at him sternly but her heart was racing. She had never been in a small room with police before. She felt like a criminal.