Her eyes pop open. “What’s going on?”
“Bad weather.” My heart hammers when the oxygen masks drop.
The elastic stretches around the back of her head, and she pauses as she tightens the plastic cup to her face. “I love you. I always have.”
My palm rests on her cheek. “Me, too.”
I say a short prayer, push her head between her knees, and I do the same. Holding hands, we descend so fast my ears pop, my stomach wretches, and my last thoughts are filled with regrets.
How different my life would’ve been if I had never let her go.
Without warning, we drop to the tarmac. My teeth clatter, passengers scream, and we bounce. Finally, the brakes engage with an ear-splitting whoosh. I have high hopes we’ll survive until the plane skids sideways. The wheels become soundless as we take into the air. Seconds later, they’re back on solid ground, rolling their merry way to the terminal.
Several women cry, some applaud, and the rest are too stunned to do anything but stare out the windows.
“P-Please remain seated until the plane comes to a full stop.” The flight attendant wobbles at the front of the cabin, her hair disheveled and mascara running down her cheek.
Because we have no belongings, Danni and I are two of the first to exit.
I pause in the jetway. “Are you alright?”
“Yeah.” Pale and stunned, she clutches my hand.
In the gate area, disgruntled travelers line up at desks with their cellphones out, shouting at airline personnel. After a brush with death, it all seems so pointless.
“Over there.” Danni points out a monitor on the wall which says every damn flight out of Albany is cancelled.
“We’ll have to stay the night.” I search for a room on my cell phone as she watches my fingers tap the screen.
“Why can’t we drive home? We’re not that far.” Because she’s suffering from shock, I cut her some slack and book us an Uber.
“Fine. If you’re scared, I’ll do it myself.” Head back, she scans the overhead directions and her feet start walking toward the taxis and rentals.
“Get real, Dan.” I point out the windows where snow blows from left to right in a classic whiteout.
With an arm around her waist, I lead her to the door labeled pickups at the far end of the terminal. Outside, rain turns to ice and as it hits her face, she blinks fast and shivers. Who the hell travels in the dead of winter wearing a light blazer?
I duck out of my parka, place it around her shoulders, and she tries to hand it back. “I’m f-f-fine.”
“Just take it.” After I zip her up, I can’t help but put a thumb to a snowflake on her cheek and watch it melt.
Wet and sparkling in the lights of the airport, the icy precipitation morphs her into a snow queen. Eyes on her lips, I lean in for a kiss and am about to connect when our car arrives and honks, breaking the spell.
Face flushed, she hops in the back and I climb in behind her.
The driver, a kid of about twenty, puts an arm over the seat and backs up. “What a night. Did you hear a flight almost crashed?”
“Ay-yup.” I pitch the phrase so he’ll shut the fuck up and he does.
Later, at the hotel desk, I learn from the manager how they let someone else have one of my rooms and groan.You’ve got to be kidding me.
While he drones on and on about how lucky we are, I type away on my phone. He’s right. Every room is booked solid for miles.
Danni yawns and holds her hand out for the key. “Thank you. I’m sure we can make do.”
Upstairs in the bathroom, she shouts behind the closed door. “I didn’t plan on an overnight. I have no pajamas and everything is wet. Do you mind closing your eyes?”
Sleep naked? Hell no.I pull my long-sleeved t-shirt over my head and knock.
