On the back she’d written,You’ve got to see this place! Promise me someday! It’s too beautiful to miss. xoxoxo
I don’t believe in omens, but this felt like one. Her gently nudging me to go and experience a place that had felt reviving and rejuvenating for her. Maybe she was telling me what I desperately knew—that I needed it. That I was leading a zombie life, dragging myself through, working myself to death to not feel the pain.
So I got on this plane despite being terrified about what I was going to do with myself for an entire week at the beach. All that time to be alone with thoughts I spent most of my waking hours trying to shut out.
I heard tiny sniffling sounds coming from next door. I squeezed my eyes shut, as if that would block out the noises. Seconds passed.
She was still crying.Aw, hell.
“Are you okay?” I asked my neighbor. This time, I fully turned.
I saw her swallow hard, as people do when they are trying hard not to cry but failing anyway. She had a nice, elegant neck. She seemed very pretty, despite the fact that most of her face was shrouded behind her big dark glasses. Big black mascara trails from her full wedding makeup scrolled down her cheeks.
Her straw made yet another sucking sound as she drained drink number two. She looked my way but didn’t answer. “I don’t know,” she said, then punched her call light. “May I please have another?” she asked another flight attendant who’d appeared as suddenly as a genie from a bottle and acquiesced to her request.
I cleared my throat. “We haven’t even taken off yet. Do you think you should—ah…”
A fine crease appeared between her brows. “Surely, you aren’t going to do that.”
I lifted my brows in surprise, taken aback that she would give me some pushback at a time when she was so…distressed. “Do what?”
“Actually tell me what to do when you literally just met me.” She frowned. “Are you like Tyler too? Are all men like Tyler?” She paused. “And if the answer is yes, I am going to drink that third drink. And maybe a fourth too. Whatever. It. Takes.”
“Whatever it takes to…?”
She shrugged. “To get drunk as quickly as I can.” To prove it, she worked hard on downing number three.
“Look,” I said carefully, “do you want to talk about it? I mean, clearly, you’ve been through something.”
“How do you know that?” she asked in mock surprise.
I pointed to her feet. “Because you’re wearing mismatched shoes.”
She looked down. “Ohno.” She smacked her head and looked back at me. At least I think she was looking at me. “Did you know that my almost-mother-in-law wouldn’t be caught dead with mismatched anything? And she refused to wear any of the colors I suggested. Guess which color she chose?”
“Um, I don’t know. Black?”
“Do youknowher?”
“Just a guess.” Seemed to me that the woman was a whole lot better off without Tyler and his mother, but I decided not to share that.
She sniffed again. “My nose is running. You wouldn’t have a tissue, would you?”
I didn’t. But I was good in a pinch. I emptied out half my food bag, came up with a napkin, and passed it over to her.
She blew her nose loudly and pointed to my bag. “Do you own a restaurant? Whatever’s in there smells great.”
“My aunts made it.”
“Your aunts made you food? For your journey? Aww. That’s so sweet.”
I smiled. Mainly because she was right. I had a great family. “In my family, food is love.”
“In my family, our hometown is love.” She laughed.
“I’m not sure I understand.”
“My parents were retired, living in Fort Myers. My dad golfed every day and was thinking of buying a boat. My mom belonged to three book clubs.”
