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But I’d already given him up, to Lara no less. For the rest of the flight, I tried to ignore the sadness that settled over me. I had no idea if I was doing the right thing.
A distraction came shortly before we began our descent into New York. The internal phone line lit up and Cal was on the other end with new instructions. Apparently, there was a new procedure in customs, which meant longer lines. Though he was going to make the announcement, I had to inform the other flight attendants so they could answer questions from the passengers.
There was some sort of virus that we would be scanned for. There wasn’t a lot of information other than it could be dangerous, especially for the elderly.
The first person that came to my mind was my grandmother. What if I had it? I wouldn’t be able to visit her.
That fear took my mind off of Grant as I waited in the customs line, despite my global entry pass. By the time I got to the agent, I didn’t know what to think. I’d checked online news sources, and no one really knew much about this virus except that it killed, just not everyone.
“Passport,” the guy said.
He didn’t look friendly, but then again, with the lines, he probably was as frustrated as we were.
“Business or pleasure?” he asked.
I glanced at my uniform and said, “Business.”
Next thing I knew he pulled out something that looked vaguely like a gun and aimed it at my forehead.
“Taking your temperature,” he said.
“What is this about?” I asked.
“Have you been in contact with anyone…” He listed off several symptoms.
“Before I traveled, my grandmother was in the hospital with pneumonia.”
He flagged down another agent as my heart raced. I had no idea what was about to happen.
“Have you been in close contact with anyone since your hospital visit?”
I wanted to say, duh, but that would have been rude and a snarky response out of fear.
“I’m a flight attendant.”
“Outside of that.”
I thought about my time with Grant.
“Intimately?” he asked when I didn’t respond quickly enough.
Heat flooded my cheeks as I nodded, unable to lie.
“Who?” he asked.
Instead of saying Grant’s name, I lifted my finger and pointed. Grant wasn’t in the global entry line, but I’d felt his stare and had known where he was.
The agent that had come to assist moved into the crowd and waved Grant through.
“Follow me,” he said and we moved beyond a closed door into another room.
I couldn’t look at Grant, though he was right there next to me. The guy asked us a series of questions regarding any symptoms we might have experienced or anyone we might have been in contact with. When we answered negative on all accounts, he took our temperature once again.
It felt surreal, like we were caught in some kind of movie.
“Here is the deal,” the guy said. “I’m going to level with you. Though we can’t force you, we strongly suggest you self-quarantine for fourteen days.”
“Why?” I asked.
