The Christmas Layover

by Robert Tate Miller

  “Listen,” Ally said, “I’m sorry for the way I spoke to you last night. The eviction news really threw me for a loop because the studio was all I had left. That was my way out. My chance to try and rebuild.”

  “You okay?” Jake asked.

  “Yes. No. I’m not sure. Looks like Tim stopped paying the studio rent several months back. It’s obvious he’d been planning his little elopement for a while.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Jake said.

  “It’s just one more thing I have to deal with,” Ally said. “Another reason I really need to get back to L.A.” Ally nodded to the long black car. “So, the limo,” she said. “That was some Christmas present.”

  “Yeah,” Jake said. “I was just trying to impress you.”

  She laughed. “Well, it worked.”

  “That’s your ride to the airport,” Jake said. “He’ll take you whenever you’re ready.”

  Ally smiled. “Thanks. That’s very thoughtful.” But I’d much rather you take me, she thought with a twinge of disappointment.

  “Sure beats my pickup truck,” Jake said.

  “I don’t know,” Ally said. “I think you’ve got a pretty sweet ride.”

  “You sure you don’t want to stick around for Mom’s Christmas dinner?” Jake asked. “It really is something to behold.”

  “Oh, I’m sure it is,” Ally said. “But, somehow, I don’t think the plane’s going to wait for me.” Ally looked at him, and Jake wondered what her eyes were trying to tell him, if anything. Tell her you care about her, he ordered himself. Just say it. What have you got to lose now? Jake flashed back to his mother’s words.

  Do you tell her and risk your heart, or do you keep it to yourself and live with knowing you could have had true love…for the second time in your life? So, all you need to know is one simple thing. Do you love her?

  “So,” Ally said, breaking the awkward silence, “I think I’m going to finish getting ready.”

  “Sure,” Jake said, tipping his mug at her. “Probably won’t see you before you go. I need to head down to the diner, handle a few things.” Jake could tell from the look on her face that she didn’t believe him for a second.

  “Okay,” Ally said. She took one last sip of cocoa and handed him her mug. “Merry Christmas, Jake.” She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him, whispering in his right ear. “Thanks for everything.” She broke away quickly and stepped back from him. Tell her, you idiot, Jake urged himself. Don’t just let her walk away. But, instead, he just kept his cool like Ally Henderson was some casual acquaintance he’d run into at the post office or the drugstore.

  “Merry Christmas, Ally. Have a good flight home and…good luck.”

  “Thank you,” Ally said and turned and headed back to Peggy’s.

  Jake watched her go and let out a painful breath he didn’t know he was holding. She stopped just inside the gate, and Jake thought she might turn back to look at him one last time. Instead, she just headed up the walk and disappeared inside. Jake stood for a moment, looking at his mother’s house. The old pain of loss welled up again in his gut.

  You never should have let your guard down, he chastised himself. Then, he thought of a holiday movie he’d recently streamed where the man ran through the airport terminal and stopped the woman he loved just as she was about to board her flight. It was in those days before 9/11 when you could still do those sorts of scenes. With everyone watching, he convinced his love not to get on that plane—to stay…and have a cup of coffee with him.

  If only life was like a movie, Jake thought. He knew he’d never find the right words to stop Ally from getting on that plane. He knew he’d never be able to tell her how he truly felt about her. And then he again thought of Kate, and the feeling that had kept him awake at night in the days and weeks after her death. It was regret that had him staring at the ceiling in his bedroom and a burning wish that he could somehow go back, back to the last moments of her life and have five minutes. Just five minutes to hold her hand and tell Kate how much she meant to him, how her being in his life had made everything so much sweeter, had made him feel as if he’d been gifted some extraordinary treasure, even if he was only able to hold that treasure for one fleeting moment. Jake’s deep pain at losing Kate was made all the more agonizing by the fact he had never truly said goodbye. He had never gotten the chance to say Thank you for being in my life.

  And now Ally was leaving him, and, unlike with Kate, he knew the day and hour of her departure. Yet, despite having experienced the pain of regret, he still didn’t have the courage to tell her how he felt, to say those three simple and deeply profound little words. I love you.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Ally dreaded the goodbye but had promised herself she wouldn’t cry or get weepy. She broke her promise within seconds. By the time the yoga teacher came downstairs with her bags in hand, Tina and Maddie had arrived. They were huddled with Peggy, Brian, Noel, and baby Chelsea in the foyer by the front door, waiting to bid her a fond farewell. The moment Noel teared up, Ally was a goner. The emotional impact and import of the past four days in Bethlehem suddenly overwhelmed her. This was it. She was putting Bethlehem in her rearview mirror. She was saying goodbye to the friends who had taken her in during the most difficult days of her life. They had offered comfort, compassion, and genuine affection. They had given her unconditional love at a time she needed it most.

  Peggy, Noel, and Tina—Maddie, Libby, Louie, and Robbie. Noel. Especially Noel. They had become so much more than friends. She felt as if she was saying goodbye to family. After all, her wise grandmother had always said “family means putting your arms around each other and being there.” Ally now knew family was more than just blood or lineage. She’d learned this lesson by accident in Bethlehem, a tiny town in northwest Colorado, a place she’d never even heard or thought of a week earlier. Her life seemed perfect a week earlier. Then, it had all fallen apart—yet, somehow, she felt okay about that. She had hope. She knew it was the friendship of these people gathered around her that had helped ease her anxiety and fear. She was determined to persevere, as much for them as for herself.

  “I’m going to miss you, Ally Henderson,” Noel said as she threw her arms around her former seatmate and roommate. “You’re no longer just my friend, you’re my sister, and I love you.” Ally could feel Noel’s tears on her cheeks.

  “I love you, too,” Ally whispered. Her voice was choked with emotion, and she was afraid it was going to fail her. When Noel’s warm embrace finally broke, Ally hugged Tina and Maddie, thanking each of them in turn.

  “You’ll always have a home in Bethlehem,” Tina whispered in her ear. Maddie went to her mother’s purse sitting on the key table just inside the door and pulled out a green envelope. She handed it to Ally. Ally was scrawled in child script on the front.

  “I made you a Christmas card,” Maddie said. “To remember me by. You can open it on the plane.”

  “Thank you, Maddie,” Ally said. “I will, and I can’t wait to read it.”

  Brian was holding baby Chelsea. Ally kissed him on the cheek. “You’re a lucky man,” she said.

  “Don’t I know it,” Brian said. Ally then kissed Chelsea Rose on the forehead.

  “Take care of Mommy for me.” She saved Peggy for last. Her kindly host was holding a small green tin decorated with a red bow and sprigs of holly.

  “For your journey,” Peggy said as she passed Ally the metal tin. Ally handed the container to Noel to hold and put her hands on Peggy’s arms.

  “I really don’t know what to say,” she said.

  “You don’t have to say a word.”

  “Thank you.” Ally mouthed the words so only Peggy could see. She hugged her, wrapping both arms around Peggy in a full-body clench. Peggy hugged back, and Ally thought it was maybe the best hug of her life. “I’ll never forget you,” Ally whispered.

  “I know,” Peggy said. “I know, baby.”

  …

  As the Gold Star limo rolled th
rough tiny Bethlehem, its lone passenger, Ally, thought how strange it must look to those peering out their windows that Christmas morning. She figured, out of all the departing passengers of Flight 1225, she was the only one transported to the little regional airport in such grand style. As her ride rolled through town, Ally could see the giant banner hanging over Main Street in front of Charlie’s Diner.

  We’ll Never Forget Our Friends From Flight 1225.

  Ally noticed that the drop-off curb at the tiny airport was congested as the limo pulled to a stop. Had it really only been five days earlier she’d stood on this same curb and laid eyes on Jake Nelson for the first time? In one way, it seemed like only the day before, and yet it also seemed like a lifetime. So much had changed. It’s best he’s not here, she convinced herself. I might just fall apart…again.

  If Ally had made a list of the qualities she looked for in a man, Jake Nelson would have checked every box. He was kind, compassionate, humble, and blue-eyed. He was the stuff dreams were made of, only—he got an “F” in geography, and in timing. He ran a greasy spoon in the middle of flyover country, she ran a yoga studio in Beverly Hills. Not even the most creative screenwriter could make that happy ending work. She had work to do, a career to save, a life to rebuild. He had pastrami sandwiches and omelets to serve.

  “Timing sucks,” she thought, and then realized she’d said it aloud to no one in particular. Ally didn’t wait for driver Patrick to open the back door. She just climbed out and looked around at a curb bustling with goodbyes and hugs, kisses and fond farewells. Ally tipped the driver her last twenty, and, when he offered to carry her bags inside, she thanked him, told him she could get on from there just fine.

  An announcement crackled over the loudspeaker. “All passengers from Flight 1225, please report to the gate for immediate boarding. All passengers to the gate for immediate boarding. Thank you and Godspeed.”

  Ally quickly snatched up her bag and backpack and headed off toward the terminal. She wound her way past the final hugs and “so long”s and “stay in touch”s. She thought about slipping on her sunglasses to hide the redness in her eyes, but then thought—what the hell. Everybody else is crying, too. She just kept moving, trying to push the storm of conflicting thoughts from her mind. Thoughts of Jake and newborn babies, kisses and sledding and cookie-baking. Thoughts of Bethlehem—a little town she had to admit had worked its way into her heart. She knew she’d soon leave this place, but she also knew she’d never forget it. Bethlehem had changed her. It would linger in her memory for the rest of her life, as she remembered she’d found refuge there one Christmas, refuge from the storm of life.

  Timing, Ally thought again. She had been right where she needed to be just when she needed to be there. She’d found a place where good people waited to cushion her fall.

  As Ally moved slowly through the terminal toward the door that led to the tarmac and her flight home, she heard a melancholy version of “O Little Town of Bethlehem” playing over the speakers. She smiled, remembering that—just the night before, on Christmas Eve—she was sitting atop Mars Hill with Tina, looking down on the humble town all aglow. She passed a poster showing a man, woman, and young girl sledding, and she paused, remembering the snowy fun with Jake and Maddie the day of the bake-off. It seemed there were reminders of her new memories everywhere she looked.

  As she reached the tarmac door, Ally saw that two of the flight attendants were on duty, handing out index cards with seat assignments. The two young women were glowing. It was as if these folks were no longer nameless, faceless passengers, but old friends. They’d shared the same experience. They’d been castaways, too. Ally smiled at them both as she took her card and headed through the door and out onto the tarmac.

  Though it had snowed the night before, the runway was completely cleared off. The sky was partly cloudy, and only a few errant snowflakes swirled about. As she moved toward the waiting jet, some hundred yards away, Ally thought how majestic and white the distant mountains looked. I’m going to miss this place, she thought. And not just this place.

  Captain Kendall and her copilot stood at the foot of the plane’s staircase. They were all smiles, too, greeting the passengers, welcoming them, wishing them Merry Christmas.

  The passengers seemed to be having a holly jolly Christmas as Ally moved down the aisle toward her 16F window seat. They were in high spirits, chatting with seatmates and laughing. Ally’d never seen that on a flight before, yet she knew this was no ordinary flight. Her row was empty when she arrived, and she noticed that, overall, the plane was much less crowded. She’d heard that some had decided to stay around for a few more days after the airline promised to shuttle them to Denver and fly them home for free after the holidays. Ally stowed her duffel in the overhead compartment and plopped into her seat, grateful for the space. She slipped her earbuds out of her backpack, plugged them into her phone, then slipped on her sunglasses and her favorite old well-broken-in baseball cap. She pulled the hat low over her forehead, sunk down in her seat, and closed her eyes. Just like a movie star, she thought. She hoped that anyone who happened by would get the hint. I just want to be left alone.

  She suddenly remembered Maddie’s card and reached into her backpack and pulled it out of the side pocket. She peeled open the Christmas-green envelope to reveal a sheet of art paper cleverly designed and colored with a pretty fair rendering of Snowman Bob on the front. There were sparkles and stars glued on. It read “Merry Christmas to Ally. Snowman Bob loves you, and so do I.” Inside was a tiny slip of paper taped in. Above it, Maddie had written Mom’s fortune cookie fortune. She wanted you to have it. Ally pulled off the fortune and read it.

  Better an oops than a what if.

  Chapter Twenty

  “Jake, you know I can’t let you through. You need a boarding pass.”

  Airport manager Walter Hopkins stood blocking the door to the tarmac. Jake had once worked for him at the airport, had known him for years, and it was the first time he’d ever seen old Walter in a coat and tie. He was sure his wife Sarah had insisted. Jake looked out the window, saw two airplane workers moving the stairs back as the cabin doors of Flight 1225 closed.

  “You don’t get it, Walter,” Jake said. “I have to speak to someone on that plane. It’s an emergency.”

  “Did you try calling?” Walter asked.

  “It has to be in person,” Jake said. “Please. You’ve got to let me through.”

  “Jake, I can’t…”

  “C’mon, Walt. It’s Christmas.”

  Jake hadn’t lied to Ally. He had gone down to the diner that morning, even though it was closed for the holiday. Peggy had asked him to pick up a gallon of eggnog for Christmas dinner. He’d been there, looking out the picture frame window when the limo rolled by ferrying Ally to the airport. He’d wandered outside after the limo had passed, stared off after it, watched it grow smaller as it moved away, taking Ally out of his life. He was still watching the limo when a familiar voice cut in on his wistful thoughts.

  “Sure gonna miss those folks.” Jake turned to see Doc Baker standing across the street, just in front of his clinic door.

  “Merry Christmas, Doc.”

  “Merry Christmas to you.” The doctor who had brought Jake into the world wandered out into the deserted street and stood beside him, watching as the limousine disappeared in the distance. “Gonna miss some more than others,” the doctor chuckled. “How about you?”

  Jake nodded. “Yeah. There’s one I’m really going to miss. But it’s for the best.”

  “Oh yeah?” Doc Baker said. “You figure?”

  “We’re just too different,” Jake said. The doctor laughed out loud. “What’s so funny?”

  “Well,” the doctor said, “that’s what my Bertie said when I asked her to marry me. Over forty years ago. She said it would never work, that we were cut from two wholly opposite rolls of cloth.” Jake gave him a look. His words rang familiar. “As a matter of fact, she was going to marry some other fell
a. Lived over in Delta. He was better looking, better family, better job. Seemed like all the odds were stacked against me.”

  “So, what’d you do?” Jake asked. The doc looked at him like the answer was as obvious as the nose on his face.

  “I played the hand I was holding. I decided that—if I was going to lose her—at least I was going to lay it all on the table. I didn’t mince words, told her exactly how I felt. I said, ‘Bertie, you go on and marry that fella if you like, but the earth will come to a dead stop and start spinning the other direction before you’ll find any man who loves you more than I do.’ You see, Jake, if you’re gonna lose somebody you care about, at least go out swinging. Lay it all on the line, so that you can at least know there was no doubt in her mind how you felt.” The doctor put a hand on his shoulder. “That’s the only way you’re gonna be able to sleep at night.”

  Jake looked at him as the doc’s last words echoed in his head. That’s the only way you’re gonna be able to sleep at night. He flashed back to his bedroom and staring at the ceiling in regret. “My mom said the same thing,” Jake said.

  “Well, then that only begs one question,” the doctor said with a wink. “What the hell are you waiting for?”

  “Come on, Walter,” Jake pleaded. “You know me.”

  “Jake, I just can’t. They’ll shut me down.” Jake again looked out the window. The big jet was slowly starting to move. It was go time. “I’m sorry, Jake. I’m really sorry.” Jake slowly nodded. Maybe it was time to face reality. He put a hand on Walter’s arm.

  “Okay, Walter. Merry Christmas.”

  “Merry Christmas, Jake.” Jake turned and started to walk away. “Oh, and Jake?” Jake turned back. Walter grinned. “You’re still the best employee I ever had.” Jake nodded. He appreciated the compliment, but his mind was someplace else. He was thinking about Ally sitting on that plane, about ready to take off, about to disappear from his life. Then, something in Walter’s words jogged a memory. Could it be? It was a longshot, a last-ditch hope, a swing for the fences. But, hell, Jake thought. It’s worth a shot. What have I got to lose?