I shove past the few passengers standing in the way and rush past the pilot and flight attendant at the exit. Forgetting the fact that I left my carry-on, I race down the escalator and head to baggage claim.
I try to call Benny on the way and he doesn’t answer.
Baggage claim is packed full of people, and the conveyor for my flight hasn’t started moving. Thanking God for the small Oklahoma airport, I step outside to see if the Uber is here yet—no luck. I step back inside and wait for my bag, anxiously refreshing my Uber app and reading through my texts.
I check the time, the meeting is supposed to start in ten minutes. I try calling Benny again.
“Eleanor.” My heart stops when I hear his voice. “Are you headed this way?”
“Almost, just waiting for my bag.” I pace back and forth by the conveyor that still hasn’t startedmoving.
“Good, good.” He pauses for a moment. “Are you okay?” His voice is tense.
I stop pacing, focusing on his deep breaths on the other line. “Just flustered and trying not to freak out in the middle of this airport.”
He lets out a deep rumbling laugh and I feel it pulse in my ears. “Please don’t freak out.” I can hear a smile in his voice, if that was something you could hear.
“Only because you asked nicely,” I joke. The conveyor starts to move. “I’ll be there soon!”
“Be careful, baby,” he says it sweetly, but I hear it in a more intense way.
Baby.
I don’t have time to fixate on the first time he decides to use that word and what it does to every nerve ending in my body. I hang up without a response, and start scanning for my bag.
Bag after bag cycle through and mine is nowhere.
“Come on,” I groan loudly. The desperation all over my body as I pace back and forth, pulling my hair a few times, stomping loudly, and groaning even more. A few people still waiting for their bags put a safe distance between themselves and me as I display escalating behavior in the middle of an airport terminal.
“Is someone in a hurry?” a woman’s voice asks from behind me.
“Yes lady, I am!” I snap at the stranger over my shoulder as I pick up a bag that resembles mine but isn’t and toss it back on the conveyor.Freak out incoming.
“Now that is no way to speak to your elders,” the voice snaps back, closer to me than before.
I whip my head around half expecting airport security coming to cuff me when I see Ms. Patsy standing there—looking like she’s on island time with a flowy, tropical kimono over her white sweatsuit. I jump at her, clinging to her for dear life, my anxiety simmering as her small frame squeezes me tight.
“What are you doing here?” I ask shocked, still hugging her.
“Someone called in a favor,” she says, patting me on the back before shimmying out of the hug. She places her hands on my arms and gives me that familiar Patsy smile. I didn’t realize how much I missed it.
She points behind me and I see my bag, thelastone, finally cycle through the conveyor. My carry-on placed neatly on top.
Grabbing my bags I rush past her. “I’m sorry but I have to be somewhere. How long are you in town?” She follows behind me, hoisting a bright yellow beach bag over her shoulder.
“Not long,” she calls behind me as we walk outside to the unloading zone.
My Uber is nowhere to be found.
“You have got to be kidding me!” I fuss and start to mentally freak out as I pull my phone out to find the Uber information.
An orange truck pulls up and honks at Patsy and I. Patsy takes my bag and heads to the truck where Malcolm steps out and waves at us.
“Come on, Ellie Belly! We have a meeting to get to!” she calls over her shoulder as she throws our bags in the truck bed. Malcolm helps her into the truck and I stare at them for a moment before shaking off the confusion and running over to the truck.
“What is going on?” Climbing into the backseat, I ask, “What are you guys doing here?”
“Like I said, someone called in a favor.” Patsy winks at Malcolm as the truck comes roaring alive and he pulls away from the airport. He speeds around the corner and I fly back into the seat.
