Call Me Stewardess

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Call Me Stewardess Page 9

by Elizabeth Landry

“I went to the restroom and that girl was impolite with me!” she announced, stuttering with emotions.

  “Ma’am, was the seatbelt sign on?” he asked innocently, knowing that if it was on, Lady Coco would be in the wrong.

  “Hm, hm, it’s that nobody has ever spoken to me like that before! I want to make a complaint and—”

  Roberto cut her off.

  “Was the seatbelt sign on when you got up to use the restroom?” he asked again.

  Lady Coco was stammering. She was refusing to answer the question but at last had no choice but to do so, as Roberto, now called Roberto-the-Loyal-Accomplice, was insistent.

  “Was the seatbelt sign on, ma’am?”

  She finally yielded.

  “Yes, it was on but . . . ”

  Still, she refused to understand. The situation had become quite ridiculous and it was about time it ended. Roberto finished her up.

  “My colleague was just doing her job. Now, I will ask you to leave the aircraft. Have a nice day!”

  Lady Coco was in a fury. Roberto had just interrupted her and had declared that I had been right to use a little authority toward her. He escorted her to the exit. Angry, she managed to set foot on the bridge. From inside the aircraft, I could hear her shouting and kicking up a fuss. Then, the yelling stopped. The threat had cleared. I happily picked up my suitcase, ready to leave the last fifteen hours of disaster behind. I opened the door on the bridge, the one leading down to the tarmac. The sun blinded me and I could barely see the steps taking me to the bottom. I came to a halt to allow my eyes to adjust to daylight. And then, I saw him. Down by the aircraft, John was putting his bags in the back of our private transportation. He turned around and saw me. He flashed a wonderful smile and gestured for me to come join him. I was the last one to arrive. Close to him, the previous nightmarish hours were now forgotten. I had never been so hungry for tapas.

  Chapter 9

  Boston (BOS) – Returning from Barcelona (BCN)

  He grabbed the back of my neck and slid his hand through my long hair. He strongly pulled me toward him. His piercing gaze was tearing me apart. His dark eyes reached deep into my soul. I could feel my body weaken. He owned me. I was pulled toward him like a magnet. My mouth opened softly, naturally. I was ready and he could feel it. He wanted me just as much. He opened his mouth too. Our tongues, impatient; our bodies, finally coming together. We became one. And then, abruptly, someone opened the door to my apartment and I woke up.

  Becky entered, fresh from her yoga class. And I, having just gotten back from Barcelona, had fallen asleep on the couch, absolutely drained. Rupert was sleeping across the room. The last twenty-four hours had gone so fast. In my dreams, I had tried to remember the recent events, tweaking just a couple details. Ten more minutes of sleeping and I would have been in heaven. Unfortunately, Becky had made me wake up to reality. John wasn’t here. He wasn’t holding me in his arms, he was holding another woman instead. His wife. Regardless of the nice evening we had spent together, the situation remained the same. I could never be with him. I had to move on and forget him.

  I rubbed my eyes and sat up on my comfy cushion. Rupert was yawning, still half asleep. Becky, after apologizing for waking us up, went to the kitchen for a drink of water. I couldn’t wait any longer; I had to pique her interest.

  “Guess who I spent the evening with yesterday, in Barcelona?”

  She drank her water and glanced at me, clearly intrigued.

  “I don’t know, who?” she asked, with an overly interested tone.

  “I was so happy he was there!” I added, intentionally omitting the mysterious person’s name.

  “Do you mean to say that you spent the evening with Mr. Inaccessible?” she asked, not wanting to mention John’s name in front of Rupert, who was listening in.

  From the kitchen, I could see Becky’s beautiful dark eyes grow big. She subtly pointed toward Rupert to find out if he was already in the loop. I confirmed that he was indeed, and proceeded to provide more details.

  “He knows the full story. He was with us last night so it was hard to pretend. He promised not to say anything, though. The crush I have on John must remain a secret, right, Rupert?”

  I knew that Rupert was the biggest gossiper of all flight attendants but he needed to understand that stories about Becky and me were completely confidential and should not go around the airline. He agreed, somewhat insulted.

  “Come on, Scarlett! You can trust me! I won’t tell anyone that you’re fantasizing about the guy,” he replied. And then, to annoy me he added, “What would people think if they knew that the idealistic Scarlett had fallen for a married pilot who has kids?”

  I simply laughed at his comment. Internally, I knew very well he was right. I truly had fallen for a man who was the complete opposite to my ideal. It didn’t make sense and I couldn’t get my head around it. At least Rupert had grabbed Becky’s attention.

  “Does that mean, Scarlett, that you set aside your principles to have fun, just for one night, with someone you like?” she asked, happy to finally imagine me putting myself first.

  Becky was picturing the same adultery scenario most people would. But that’s not exactly what had happened. I had to explain the evening’s events. I suggested she come sit between Rupert and me so that I could unravel the mystery.

  Just as I was about to start telling my story, my phone rang. It was my mom calling. I didn’t answer as I knew she would earnestly question me about my last trip and I would have to interrupt her in order to continue my conversation with Becky and Rupert. I thought I was better off calling her back once I was well rested. I put my phone down and noticed four missed calls in the last hour. My phone had been on silent and I had not heard it while asleep. All four were from my parents. What a surprise! When mom wanted something, she persisted. In a way, I felt like part of me was just like her. When I set a goal for myself, I fight to the end. Internally, I was hoping John wasn’t one of my ambitions, though. What would the consequences be? I knew I shouldn’t look for the answer to that question. Becky was getting impatient so I hastened to tell her about my night.

  “First, we went to the old part of Barcelona for an aperitif. The evening was promising since the whole group was getting along very well. There was Anna, Ishma, Rupert, and three pilots, including John of course.”

  “Which pilots were they?” asked Becky, to further understand the group dynamic.

  “Uh! I can’t really remember but I think there was an Anthony and a Charles.”

  “Hm, don’t know them . . . Sorry for interrupting. I’m listening now!”

  “Honestly, Becky, I was so happy that John was with us, I wasn’t concerned with the other group members. He’s the only one I wanted to speak with,” I admitted before Rupert jumped in.

  “I’m telling you, Becky, I had never seen Scarlett like that. I tried to talk to her twice while she was talking with that John guy and she completely ignored me. I could have screamed in her ears and she wouldn’t have noticed!”

  “Okay, now you’re exaggerating! I was, I’ll admit, a bit too interested in what he was saying, but I still managed to look independent,” I said, mostly trying to convince myself that I had been able to hide my true feelings.

  “Maybe at first, for the pre-drinks, but afterward? And at dinner? And in the elevator?” Rupert jumped in again, refreshing my memory.

  “Whoa! Okay, now you’re stealing my thunder! Let me tell my story.”

  Once lectured, Rupert laid back down on the couch and folded his arms behind his head, indicating he would no longer participate. He looked really bored. He can just leave if he’s so uninterested! I thought to myself. Still, he didn’t move an inch. So, I continued on with more details.

  “We shared a pitcher of sangria on a nice patio. After the very first glass, Rupert was already tipsy and I was almost the same. It made sense, after the night we had gone through,” I said, giving a knowing tap on Rupert’s shoulder.

  “What happen
ed?” asked Becky.

  “Ah! A delay, but we’ll tell you about it later. Let’s not put a halt on Scarlett’s precious little story,” added Rupert, to push my buttons.

  I ignored his comment and continued my story.

  “I was already tired so quickly felt the effect of alcohol in my blood. Actually, we were all pretty much on the same page so you can imagine our conversations!” I exclaimed, remembering the scene.

  “I hope you weren’t talking about sex?” Becky asked quickly.

  “Ha! Ha! Nope! Not this time. Just mammary implants!”

  “Okay . . . the boys wanted to know if you’d had a boob job?”

  “That conversation was so ridiculous, I couldn’t even get involved!” mentioned Rupert, as if it had really bothered him.

  “Aw, come on! You thought it was funny. And we didn’t talk about it for long.”

  “Actually, I don’t even know how we got talking about implants.”

  “What was being said about them?” asked Becky, interested.

  “I think Ishma brought it up when she mentioned that her boyfriend loved her new boobs. And then, one of the pilots added that he liked implants too, and so on.”

  “What! Nonsense!” exclaimed Becky. “And what about John? What was his preference?”

  “Oh, John!” I answered, still under his spell. “He was mute for most of the conversation. I was the one who had to pry.”

  “That’s good! A reserved pilot. I like it. So, what did he answer?”

  “He said he liked natural women.”

  “That’s it?”

  “Yep, nothing else.”

  “Awesome!”

  “Why?” I asked, skeptical.

  “Well, there’s none more natural than you, Scarlett! You’re a what you see is what you get kind of girl.”

  “So, you think he could possibly like me?” I asked, full of insecurities.

  “Yeah, but keep going with your story and then we’ll see.”

  I obliged.

  “After the weird conversation, we turned it around and started asking basic questions such as tea or coffee? or white or red wine? Silly questions to keep the conversation going.”

  “Not at all!” Rupert cut in. “At least I could join!”

  “Yeah, true,” I admitted. “And it’s a good thing we started talking about that because that’s when I had a strange feeling.”

  “What?” asked Becky.

  “Well, it’s as if I could predict all of John’s answers. I felt like I was inside his head. I can’t really explain it, Becky, but that had never happened to me before.”

  “Hm, I read somewhere that soulmates are so connected through their spirits that sometimes they don’t even need to speak to communicate. They understand each other through their thoughts.”

  Now that was a very irrational thought, but I did like to think that John and I were meant for each other. Rupert, on the other hand, was quick to burst my bubble.

  “Oh dear! Girls, you’ve lost it! Soulmates? We’re connected through our spirits? Blah! Blah! Blah! That’s bullshit!” he declared, somehow offended by the analysis.

  I didn’t agree with him but I had no energy to get into an argument. I also knew why he had reacted that way so I didn’t want to add anything. Rupert had never gotten over his first love and, not wanting to admit it, had skipped from lover to lover for the last few years. It was best not to dig up old memories. I simply rolled my eyes to indicate the irrelevance of his intervention and went on.

  “After the pre-drinks, we found a small restaurant close to where we were. Nothing too complicated. At the back, there was one table left. We all sat down without putting too much thought into who sat where. Or so I think . . . ”

  I paused. I wondered if what was to come had only happened out of luck.

  “Regardless, guess who sat in front of me?” I asked Becky, keeping her guessing.

  “Well, John!” she squealed.

  “Exactly!” I said, smiling.

  “He chose to sit in front of you or it just happened?” she inquired, as if the answer could change the outcome.

  “A coincidence, I think. There was only one seat left and it was in front of me.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure!” added Becky. “I saw the way he looked at you in Paris. He was far from indifferent. Obviously, you can’t see it. Rupert, what do you think?”

  “Ah! Now you girls care about my opinion, huh?” he said, again a bit insulted to have been excluded.

  Rupert seemed overly sensitive. It must have been the after-flight frustration. I totally understood. I also had to be handled with care after a flight. Knowing this, I tried to reassure him.

  “Of course I want your opinion! You know that! You were there with me; surely you noticed something. Right?”

  “Well, if you really want my opinion, I think you’re crazy about him!” he said, bursting into laughter.

  “Eh, yes! That, I already know, Rupert. That’s all you’ve noticed?”

  “Truthfully, Scarlett, seeing how he was looking at you, I think he likes you. But he remained so conventional, it’s hard to tell.”

  “So, he was sitting in front of me purely out of chance?” I asked, disappointed.

  “I’m not so sure! Really!” insisted Becky.

  “Yeah, you’re probably right. Problem is, in Barcelona, just like in Paris, John and I only talked as colleagues, so I don’t have proof of anything.”

  I could definitely feel a mutual attraction but I couldn’t be entirely certain, even after our two surprise encounters. Anyway, even if he was interested, he wasn’t the kind of guy to bend the rules. He must have sat in front of me simply because it would make the evening more pleasant.

  “I know that John doesn’t look like a scumbag pilot, but still, I wouldn’t say he talked to you as just a colleague,” Becky declared before listening to the rest of my story.

  She might have been right but, then again, John had given me no clue indicating that I should think otherwise. I was probably the only one seeing a strong electric current traveling within our non-existent couple. Most likely a one-way connection going nowhere. The thought of not finding a way to be with him saddened me but, at the same time, I was glad he hadn’t shown me any clear sign of interest. I wouldn’t have wanted a cheater, an unfaithful man. So, either way, I was doomed.

  “The meal was delicious. We even shared an appetizer. And that’s when Rupert started glancing at me suspiciously, which made me blush.”

  “Ha! Ha! Ha!” Rupert laughed again, looking at Becky. “It was way too obvious for me not to notice. Even after three years of living together, Scarlett won’t drink out of the same water bottle as me, yet there she was laughing away, picking at the food on the captain’s plate. The world upside down!”

  Becky started laughing as well.

  “You’re exposed, Scarlett! Did the other flight attendants notice anything?”

  “No, I don’t think so. But anyway, what difference does it make if they noticed our complicity or not? We weren’t making out or anything!”

  “No, that’s right, it’s none of their business. Plus, he’s so good-looking they would have just been jealous anyway,” said Becky, still laughing.

  “Ha! Ha! Ha! Maybe Rupert would have been!” I joined in.

  “Nah, he’s not my type. I must admit that he’s very charismatic but I prefer the big and strong. The tough guys.”

  “He’s mine anyways,” I replied unconsciously.

  Oops! Had I really said that? He’s mine? Hm! If John was mine, I was sharing him with another woman. I couldn’t believe that I was imagining myself owning him. We hadn’t even touched lips. But that’s exactly what I wanted, to own him. I wanted him to be mine, mine only, and I had to face the facts: It was impossible. The conversation had strayed a little so I brought it back to the main topic.

  “After dinner, we all walked to the hotel. Of course, I was next to John. We were chatting away. He was so easy to talk t
o. He didn’t mention his wife, nor his kids, so I didn’t want to mention them either. I’m sure that had he not been interested, he probably would have referred to them at some point. I don’t know and don’t want to know about them. We stopped to get some ice cream. He paid for my cone but not for the others’.”

  I paused to take a breath. Becky took advantage of this to recap.

  “So, he paid for your ice cream but not for Rupert’s, nor for anyone else’s? He wanted to be nice to you, it’s obvious. I knew he liked you!” she concluded.

  “You’re jumping to conclusions pretty quick, don’t you think?” I asked.

  “No, not at all! Why wasn’t it one of the other pilots you were with who paid for your ice cream? Or why didn’t John pay for Rupert’s, Anna’s or Ishma’s?”

  “To demonstrate some interest?” I, in turn, concluded.

  “There you go! It’s a tiny detail, but you’re the one who keeps complaining about men not paying and he proved you wrong,” said Becky, happy to see that my captain had looked after me and my ice cream consumption.

  “Anyway, it was greatly appreciated and I thanked him. He seemed quite happy to spend three euros to treat me,” I added jokingly.

  Rupert, still under the influence of the after-flight frustration, started judging our feminine reasoning.

  “Bah! You girls are unbelievable! Hilarious! All a guy needs to do to impress you is to pay for ice cream!” he said, making fun of us.

  I refrained from justifying myself as I knew very well he also appreciated this sort of attention when he was in a relationship. I motioned for him to be quiet and he sprawled further out onto the couch, fully relaxed. Becky urged me to continue my story. The end was near.

  “Well, it’s on the way back to the hotel that I started to weaken. I didn’t have any proof, of course, but I was under the impression that there was a clear complicity between John and me . . . ”

  “If I can be of any help,” interrupted Rupert, “I don’t think you were dreaming.”

  “Yeah, I think the same,” confirmed Becky.

  “Well, even so, there’s nothing I could do! My hands were tied. I wasn’t gonna be like, Hey, hot stuff, wanna come up to my room?”

 

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