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FOR THE NINE-HOUR overnight flight from Miami to Barcelona, Charlotte barely slept. It seemed she was the only one. After a rather impressive steak dinner served with grilled vegetables, fresh bread, various cheeses, a decent salad, and a small bottle of red wine each, Alex had thrown her seat back, curled up under a blanket, and knocked out.
Maybe it got easier with practice, but all Charlotte could think about was that they were in a tin can hurling through the sky. If something happened, they’d never survive. No amount of wine was going to help her ignore that.
When they finally landed at nine in the morning, Charlotte was desperate to stretch her legs and breathe fresh air. The combination of nerves and exhaustion rendered her an o -kilter loopy mess.
“Did you sleep?” Alex asked as she pulled on her pale blue leather jacket and untucked the hair that had gotten caught beneath it.
Charlotte reached for their two carry-on bags in the overhead compartment. It should have been all they needed
for a four day stay, but they had to collect another huge luggage at baggage claim.
“A few minutes here and there,” she replied as she arranged their things in the first-class aisle while waiting for her chance to step o the plane. At least there were only a dozen passengers in the spacious part of the cabin. It helped with the binding claustrophobia she’d been fending o all night.
“Are you nervous?” Alex’s question was punctuated by a smirk.
“No,” she lied, accepting the black leather jacket Alex o ered. She slipped it on over her long-sleeved t-shirt.
Alex’s kiss to her cheek made it obvious that she didn’t believe her, but she was letting it go. When it was finally time to disembark, Charlotte was the first out the door.
Outside the airport, the air was crisp and dry as they waited for the car that would take them to Alex’s parents’
house. Charlotte gripped the luggage handles in each of her hands and tried to remember how to breathe.
When she’d concocted this plan, it made so much sense.
But in the morning light of a foreign country, rather than the lusty haze of Alex’s bedroom, she wasn’t sure she could do this. Maybe if she’d known that instead of a hotel they’d be staying with Alex’s family, she might have made a di erent choice. It was a lie.
“You okay?” Alex’s question derailed her thoughts.
In dark sunglasses, loose hair, and her leather jacket, Alex already looked like a di erent person. With a neighbor taking care of the birds and the spa closed for the long holiday weekend, it was like she was free. Unmoored. Even
the distance from Stephanie, who was spending time with her family in Chicago, seemed to make a di erence.
Charlotte smiled. “I’m just tired…” she paused “…and maybe a little nervous.”
Without hesitation, Alex took her hand and intertwined their fingers. “It’s going to be great. They’re going to love you.”
A black car appeared before Charlotte could respond, not that she’d formulated a reply. The natural question was . . .
because you love me? . . . but Charlotte couldn’t speak.
“We’ll be able to rest soon,” Alex assured her as a driver in a black suit slipped out of the car.
“Bon dia, Eloi, és tan bo veure’t,” Alex shouted toward the man in a language Charlotte didn’t understand. It was more French than Spanish.
After catching him in a tight embrace, Alex turned to Charlotte. She understood that introductions were being made, but she couldn’t string the meaning together.
“Forgive me,” Alex said in Spanish when Charlotte’s vacant expression didn’t change. “Eloi is Catalonian. You’ll get used to hearing Catalan all over Barcelona.”
In Spanish, Charlotte introduced herself. When she extended her hand, Eloi ignored it and kissed her once on each cheek before ending with a quick hug.
Piling in together in the back of the large sedan, Charlotte listened while Alex and Eloi talked faster than she could process. Looking out the window, she was surprised there was so little around the airport.
In the distance, a low mountain range peaked out from a blanket of stringy clouds. The green peak hugged the city
below as if keeping it close to the sea on its western bank.
At some point on the short drive, Charlotte realized that they’d switched to Spanish for her benefit, but it was so fast and so alien she didn’t follow it much better than Catalan.
