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The flight attendant gives me one final call over the speaker.
“I’m coming!” I shout, hoping she’ll hear me.
Her head turns in my direction, and I wave my hands in the air so she can spot me barreling down the walkway.
She shakes her head as she sets down her intercom device, slightly amused, mostly annoyed.
“You nearly delayed the flight,” she tells me once I come to a sliding halt at the gate and hold out my boarding pass for her to scan. “Next time, please arrive a little earlier.”
“Absolutely, I will,” I tell her with a big smile as I try to catch my breath.
She hands me back my boarding pass and I dart down the tunnel toward the plane. Inside, the rows are all full since I’m the last one to board. I walk down the aisle, aware that I’m getting a few glares from passengers. I want to tell them why I was late. They’d understand, surely, but I just keep my head down and walk as quickly as I can toward the last row, taking the empty aisle seat.
I’m still breathing heavy. I look down to see my hands shaking with adrenaline.
“First time on a plane?” a soft voice asks.
I glance over to the old woman sitting in the window seat. Even though she’s sitting down, I can tell she’s petite. She’s wrapped up in a warm scarf and sweater. Her short white hair is curled and her face is lovely and wrinkled, especially near her eyes as she smiles over at me. Her hands are resting on a closed hardcover, and I notice that each of her fingers is covered with a different ring.
“Oh…” I chuckle. “No. Not even close. I fly all the time for work. Or, well…I used to.”
She tips her head to the side. “Used to?”
I glance down at my hands, shaking my head. “Yeah. I was a journalist up until a few minutes ago.”
“You quit tonight?”
I nod, and she seems intrigued.
“Did you not like the work?”
I mull over her question. “It wasn’t so bad. The travel got to me a little.”
“Ah. There’s always a downside to any job.”
I agree, drumming my thumbs on my thighs.
“But that’s not why I quit.”
Her thin eyebrows rise, prompting me to continue.
“I’m sort of taking a leap of faith,” I confess.
She grins. “Is it for love?”
I laugh and tip my head back against the seat, glancing up at the ceiling. “Yes, though it sounds cliché to admit that.”
“Clichés are clichés for a reason. Tell me about her.”
“Maddie?”
“Is she the one you quit for?”
I nod. “Yeah. She’s…”
I’m stumped for a moment as I consider how best to encapsulate her for a perfect stranger. How to describe Maddie? It feels impossible.
I laugh. “She’s amazing. Funny. Outgoing…” I tilt my head back and forth like I’m weighing both sides of an argument. “Ridiculous, at times.”
“Aren’t we all,” the woman says with a wink. “I’ll bet she’s beautiful too.” I smile, and she responds with a laugh. “Of course she is. And how long have you been together?”
“It’s kind of complicated.”
“Is that why you quit your job? To un-complicate it?”
I smile. “Exactly.”
“Well I hope you succeed.”
You and me both.
We talk for a long while after that, both of us eager to share stories. Even so, the flight seems to take forever. I flip through the in-flight magazine, tear into a bag of peanuts, fiddle with my phone, and still, we’re an hour from Austin.
My seatmate is busy reading now, so I don’t bother her, instead counting the seconds that tick by, desperate to get back to Texas.
We don’t touch down on the tarmac until after midnight, and then our bags take forever to appear on the luggage turnstile. I grab my suitcase and make a run for the airport doors, grabbing the first cab I see waiting outside.
I give the driver the condo’s address then start to sweat in the back seat.
It’s occurred to me more than once in the last few hours that what I’m doing is a little insane.
I could have called Maddie and alerted her to the fact that I was coming back to Texas, but it seems like something best said in person. Fortunately, there’s no traffic out on the roads this late. We leave the Austin airport and make it downtown in no time.
“Right here?” the cab driver asks, pointing to the curb.
“Yeah, that’s great.”
I still know the access code for the building, but I don’t have a key to get into the unit.
I ride the elevator up to our floor and roll my suitcase down the hall as my heart hammers in my chest.
Maddie, hi. Maddie, I’m back. Maddie, I’m not going to New York.
I hate myself for not preparing an actual speech. I had time on the flight, but now I’m outside the condo with nothing poignant prepared.
