Claire
There arenoshortcuts toanyplace worth going.
—UNKNOWN
With so many traveling for Thanksgiving, there wasn’t an open seat for me to fly home standby that night. It should be easier to get on a plane tomorrow morning because nobody wants to travel on Thanksgiving Day.
And I’m not complaining. I’ve got the rest of the month off, so I’m able to pack up and move home. Plus, I get to spend one last night with my roommates.
We try out all the facial products Maritza brought back from her trip overseas. Evidently Japan is known for their skin care, and some of their hotels leave facial products in rooms, the way American hotels leave shower caps. Unfortunately, none of us can read the instructions printed in Japanese on all the little packets, so we just apply masks to our faces and guess when we’re supposed to remove them.
Makes for some pretty entertaining selfies. Especially the one with us in our masks on the couch and Sparrow’s head popping out from her bedroom in the background.
I wish I’d taken more pictures of my roommates while living here. Better pictures. I didn’t even get a shot of The Girls before they moved to New York last month.
I’m reliving all these memories the next morning as Angel walks me to the shuttle to help roll my second suitcase.
She hugs me, our now extra-silky cheeks pressed together. “I can’t believe you’re leaving already.”
I hang on a little bit longer. Jimmy, our first shuttle driver, carries my bags on board and waits from his seat. Since he’d once seemed interested in Angel, I figure I can get away with it. “Well, you’re planning to apply for an international airline, right? So you probably won’t be here much longer anyway.”
Angel pulls away but holds my shoulders, presumably since it’s easier to talk this way than with our cheeks pressed together. “I applied to Air Elite, and they have a base in Seattle, meaning I might not have to leave at all.”
“That would be ideal.” It’s unbelievable to me how often flight crew switch bases and move around. I’ve just wanted to go home the whole time I’ve been here, but maybe some of them are looking for the right place to call home.
“Angel,” Jimmy finally calls. “If you’re having trouble saying goodbye, climb aboard. You can ride round trip.”
“I’m not coming.” Angel smirks at him, then turns to me. “Sorry. I would, but I’ve got a stand-up tonight, and I need a nap.”
Stand-ups are when you work the last flight of one day followed by the first flight out the next day. You stay in a hotel and don’t literally have to stand up, but you’re lucky if you get five hours of sleep. Some people pick them because they pay extra, but I’m glad I haven’t been assigned any yet.
I climb a step into the shuttle. “You’ll come visit, right?”
“Absolutely. After the holidays, when there are more open seats for standby passengers.”
“I’m not going to see you until next year?” I cry, clearly acting overdramatic, but it’s authentic at the same time. I make it to the top step.
Angel pouts her bottom lip, joining me in being theatrical. “You have Wyatt. Let me know how Thanksgiving goes with combining your families.”
On that note, Jimmy closes the door between us.
I take my seat and wave out the window, wishing I were more excited about returning to my boyfriend. I’m going home, but for the first time, saying “Home, James” doesn’t feel appropriate.
The conversation with Nathan shook me. Do I really love Wyatt and want what’s best for him? Or am I simply afraid of losing him? Am I selfish?
I tell myself the distance has simply been hard on us. Once I get back, everything will return to normal.
Shortly after my parents open their front door to welcome me home, I open the same front door to find Wyatt and his parents.
“Happy Thanksgiving. Look at what I’m grateful for.” I point to my minus-the-walking-boot foot.
Wyatt and his folks stare at my ballet flats.
“You got new shoes?” he guesses.
If he’d seen me more lately, maybe he would have guessed better. “I got my walking boot off!”
“Congratulations.” Wyatt offers me a poinsettia and a light peck. He looks good in a navy sweater, with his curls slightly tamed for the occasion. His musky scent adds to the smell of baking turkey.
