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“He knows,” I say with a smile.
“I need to lock up. I’ll see you on Saturday?”
“Okay.” I turn and head out the doors back to my car.
It’s Friday afternoon, and I’m driving to my mom’s house. I have a bag that I packed last night in the back of the Jeep. Evan is picking me up at five for our flight out of MacArthur. I arrive at my mom’s a little before four. I grab my bags and head in the house.
I walk in and see my mom sitting on the couch. She looks nervous, clutching at something in her hands.
“I would love to be with you on your special day,” she starts. “But it’s such short notice and not enough time to drive.” She has an irrational fear of flying and won’t even go near an airport.
“I wish you could be there too. Evan and I will have a small reception here when we get back.” That seems to placate her.
“Olivia,” she continues handing me a small box, “I’m hoping you’ll wear these on your wedding day.” I open it and find a pair of diamond and sapphire earrings. “They were your grandmother’s. I wore them when I married your father.” Oh, no. Please not now.
“They’re beautiful,” I murmur. “Of course I’ll wear them,” I say teary. As she hands me the box, I pull her into an embrace and whisper, “Thank you.” My mom and I might have our differences, but at the end of the day, I still love her. I take it and put it safely in my carry-on bag.
Evan shows up just before five. He jumps out of the car and jogs up the walkway to my front door. He has a huge smile on his face. I am nothing but a big ball of nerves. I have a pain in my stomach that won’t go away. He opens the door and gives me a quick peck on the cheek. “Hey, Mrs. B,” he greets my mom with a smile.
“Hi, Evan,” she smiles back.
“Here, let me take that,” he says as he picks up my bag. “Is this everything?” I nod my head. “Cool.” He takes the bag out to the car. I turn to my mom.
“We have to go now. I don’t want to miss our flight,” I say. She walks toward me and gives me a giant hug.
“I hope you find happiness. I’m sorry I can’t be there,” she whispers in my ear.
“Thanks, Mom.” I hug her back.
She finally lets me go. “Have a safe flight.”
“Bye.” I take the garment bag holding my dress off the closet door where it was hanging and head out to the waiting car. Once inside, Evan asks, “You okay?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Just checking.” He puts the car in drive, and we’re on our way. “I cannot wait for you to be Mrs. Gallagher.”
The flight into Miami isn’t too bad. The plane is relatively empty, which is strange for the end of the summer. Weather was on our side, with clear skies all the way and minimal turbulence. We land right on time without incident.
Evan has both of my bags as well as his own. We head over to catch our connecting flight to Key West. We need to hustle, or we’ll miss it. We are led out on the runway to a little tiny plane. Oh, I don’t know about this. Too many famous people died in planes just like this one. It should be called the Buddy Holly plane.
Evan hands all of our bags to the flight attendant and heads up the steps to the plane. I follow behind him. Seriously, this plane can fit maybe twelve people comfortably. A few more people board behind us. Once they’re in, someone from the outside closes the hatch. An attendant, or the captain for all I know, locks it from the inside. He scoots back to the front of the plane.
With the front curtain open, I can see out the windshield, similar to sitting in the back seat of a car. Very strange.
The captain, who is not the guy I saw closing the hatch, turns to face the few passengers. “How’s everyone doing this evening?” he asks in a very heavy southern drawl. There are a couple of grunts from behind us. “The flight from Miami to Key West will take approximately thirty eight minutes. The winds are light and variable, which will give us a smooth ride. Please make sure your seatbelts are fastened as we have been cleared for take-off.” He puts his headset on and turns around.
The other man must be his co-captain. He comes back to make sure everyone’s seatbelt is on and goes through the mandatory safety lesson.
I never realized how loud these little planes are until he revs up the engines for take-off. Evan grabs my hand. He knows how much I hate take-offs and landings. The plane roars down the runway, and I know we’re up once I get that weird feeling in my stomach, like riding a rollercoaster.
Even though it’s dark, I can see the lights flickering below. We aren’t flying that high. It’s too loud to talk, so I just sit back and try to relax.
A quick half hour or so later we are safely on the ground. The flight wasn’t horrible, but I’m not in any hurry to do it again. As we exit the plane, an attendant hands Evan our bags. Evan thanks him, and we walk off the tarmac toward the doors leading into the tiny airport.
Since both Evan and I only travel with carry-on’s, it makes getting out of the airport that much easier. I hate waiting at baggage claim, assuming they remembered to put the luggage on the correct plane. By the exit to the street there is a driver waiting for us, holding a card with Evan’s name on it. We walk toward him and Evan identifies himself. The driver, whose nametag says Alex, is from the hotel. He takes our bags and shows us to his car.
The drive from the airport is a short one. Alex pulls up to the entrance of the hotel and stops in front of the lobby entrance. We both get out as he retrieves our bags from the trunk and hands them to the lobby attendant.
