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I’d almost think the whole flight hadn’t passed and I’d only been out for a few minutes. But the sky is turning pink outside above the pillowy clouds.
We’ll be landing soon, which means I’d better brace for round two of crushing pressure changes.
At least my own brain isn’t trying to claw its way out of my head like a starving animal.
With a heavy yawn, I poke my head out of my blanket nest. My hair floofs into my face as I peer out from the hood the blanket’s turned into. I’m sure I look deranged.
Good thing Jet Daddy doesn’t give a damn if I’m cute or not.
I peek at him, rubbing one sandy eye, and consider trying to talk again. But I think I’ve learned my lesson.
So I watch him tapping away for a few seconds, check my watch, and wiggle my laptop out from under my hip and prop it open on my tray table.
As soon as the in-flight Wi-Fi connects, there’s an email waiting from my grandmother.
Subject: Dinner tonight
From: Grandma Jackie
Elle Dear,
I hope you’ll see this before your flight. I wanted to make your favorite for dinner tonight, but I do hope you still love five-cheese tortellini. Please let me know before your flight lands, my darling. If you have something different in mind, we can always stop by the grocery on the way home.
Yours always,
Your loving Gran
My smile feels too big for my face.
Jacqueline Lark always talks that way, like she’s trying to remind me how much she loves me with every word. She’s practically my mother at this point, although my real mom is happily retired with my father down in the Florida Keys.
I tap out a quick reply.
Subject: Re: Dinner tonight
To: Grandma Jackie
Gran,
You know I’d never turn down your tortellini, especially if you’re making your special cream sauce. But I told you—no coming to the airport. You shouldn’t be on your feet if you’re still in your knee brace. I’ll Uber, and we can order anything else. See you soon. Love you!
Elle
Knowing Gran, she’s probably already at the airport, and I’m too late to stop her.
I’ll just have to take the keys and drive so she’s not hurting her bad knee. After her hiking accident last summer, her doctor hoped that she’d be able to walk unassisted with her new knee plate after recovery, but she refused the surgery in favor of other options.
Over six months of physical therapy and she’s still struggling—which is partly why I’m here.
Sure, life wasn’t working out that great in NYC.
But I could’ve roughed it out until things started looking up.
I just didn’t want to, not when Gran needs me more.
I glance at the time again. I should have a few more minutes before I have to put everything away, so I kill time looking for local jobs.
Might as well get a jump start on settling in. As I sink back in my chair, I prop my elbow on the armrest between me and Jet Daddy.
