Turbulence

by Whitney Gracia Williams

  “If you’d gone to MIT, I wonder if any of this would’ve happened.”

  I bit my lip, trying to hold in my anger. To my surprise, my family were stunned by the release of the book, but not in a good way. It didn’t matter that I’d accomplished something none of them had done. It was “mindless writing,” “words that could’ve been put to better use in a research setting.” It still wasn’t good enough. I still wasn’t good enough.

  “Your father and I are going to fly up to see you for lunch next month. We want to discuss the best way to attack this head on. We need to figure out a way to field questions our colleagues have about your...Your book.”

  “You know what?” I couldn’t hold it in anymore. “Don’t bother coming to visit me. Ever. Until you and everyone else in the family gets your heads out of your asses. I published two books. Two. And instead of having relatives who say, “Congratulations, we’re proud of you.” You still manage to make me feel like a disappointment.”

  “Gillian, I’m impressed with all you’ve done, I’m just trying to make a connection with you.”

  “I’ll send you my signing schedule. If you want to see me, buy a ticket...Since none of you have even bought a book yet, that would be nice, I think.” I hung up before she could say anything else.

  My phone immediately vibrated and I saw that she’d sent me a text.

  Mom: I’m sorry. Let me make it up to you...Not at a signing though. One on one. So I can apologize in person. So we **all** can apologize in person...

  I started to text her “No thanks,” but another text from her came through. A series of pictures of my sisters, my brother, and she and my father holding my book.

  I stared at the pictures for several minutes, failing to hold back tears because I didn’t want to believe that the pictures were real.

  Me: I would like that very much...

  GATE C48

  JAKE

  New York (JFK)

  I stepped off the elevator at my condo, ready to get some sleep after a particularly long flight, but my cell phone rang before I could open my door. Unknown number.

  “Who is this?” I answered.

  “Is this Mr. Weston?” It was a male voice.

  “Depends on who’s calling.”

  “This is Dr. Armin from Infinity Assisted Living. Is right now a bad time?”

  “No.” I swallowed, fearing the worst.

  “Great. I was actually calling because—”

  “Are you calling my Jake?” My mother’s voice was in the background. “I’ve told you to stay the hell out of my room unless he’s with you. I don’t trust you or your staff, and I swear to God if you’re talking to someone other than Jake right now, I will make sure he sues you for malpractice.”

  “Mr. Weston.” The doctor sighed. “Are you by chance close enough to get to Newark right now?”

  I hung up and took the elevator downstairs, catching my car before the valet could put it away.

  I sped toward New Jersey, toward the care facility, without a second thought, nearly getting in several accidents along the way.

  When I arrived, I didn’t stop at the visitor’s desk. I walked right by the receptionist, giving her a look that dared her to get in my way. As I approached my mother’s room, I hoped she’d still have a few more minutes, that I hadn’t missed her in that state yet again.

  I opened the door to her room and she sat up, staring at me.

  Tilting her head to the side, she furrowed her brow.

  “You look terrible, Jake,” she said. “What the hell has gotten into you?”

  Exhaling, I walked over and hugged her.

  “Jake?” She squeezed my arms. “Are you okay? You don’t normally hug me for so long.”

  I hugged her for a few more seconds before letting go. “How long have you been up?”

  “Since six this morning. Why?”

  “No reason. Do you know what year it is right now?”

  “2014.” She shrugged. “2015, maybe.”

  “Close enough,” I said. “How old do you think I am right now?”

  “Depending on the year you’re thirty-eight or thirty-nine.”

  “And what do I do for a living?”

  “From the way this conversation is going, you host a version of Jeopardy.”

  I laughed and she smiled.

  “You fly planes like you should, Jake,” she said. “You also get angry so often that you’re considering a way to be paid for testing stress balls.”

  “I’ve never considered that.”

  “You should.” She laughed, patting a spot on her mattress. “Sit down.”

  I took off my jacket and obliged.

  “My questions are far more interesting than yours. Is it my turn?”

  “Yes. Ask away.”

  “Are you trying to have any babies yet?” she asked. “Any mini-Jakes I need to look forward to?”

  “No. Can we talk about something else? How you’re feeling perhaps?”

  “I’m great,” she said. “For now, anyway. Not sure how long this will last.”

  “It’s already been worth the drive for me.”

  Laughing, she pointed to her stack of blankets in the corner, and I covered her in a new one, taking my seat next to her again. When her laughter stopped, she got serious all of a sudden. “If I ask you something, do you promise to tell the truth?”

  “Only if it won’t hurt you.”

  “Okay.” She nodded. “Okay, that’s fair enough. When was the last time I was like this? Lucid for more than an hour at a time?”

  “Please don’t make me answer that.”

  “Tell me.” She smiled faintly. “I probably won’t remember this moment in a day or two anyway.”

  I kissed her forehead. “Two years ago.”

  “Years ago?” Tears welled in her eyes.

  I nodded. “You’ve had moments, hours here or there, but full days? Two years ago.”

  “Is it true that you’re the one who sends me the blankets and care packages every day? It’s you?”

  I nodded, noticing the tears rolling down her face.

  “And, the catering company that only delivers to me. Is that you, too?”

  “Yes.” I wiped away her tears. “You hate the food they serve here. You won’t even eat their ice cream. You don’t trust it for some reason.”

  She laughed, holding her stomach. “Thank you, Jake. Thank you very much.”

  “You’re welcome.” I asked her more questions, trying to soak up as much time as I could, trying to enjoy the company of the only person in my life worth talking to.

  Occasionally, she would interrupt my questions and say, “Okay...What’s her name?” because she swore all of my relationship questions meant something other than casual conversation. That I was thinking about someone, but I wasn’t. I hadn’t thought about Gillian until just now.

  “Before I forget—ha!” She snorted, pulling a notebook from underneath her pillow. “I apparently told the staff to give me this notebook if I was ever lucid for more than a day.” She flipped the pages open. “I need you to speak with your father and your brother when you get a chance.”

  “No.”

  “Jake—”

  “Absolutely not. They’re the reason you’re like this. They’re dead to me.”

  “It’s important.” She looked sincere. “Really important.”

  “Then why can’t you tell me?”

  “Because you need to hear it from them.” She flipped to another page. “You also need to deliver a few messages for me. For your father, you need to tell him that I forgive him for all of his lies, and I do wish him the best with Elite. I really do.”

  I touched her forehead, certain she was coming down with something, that she couldn’t be serious.

  “Also, tell your brother that I miss him. That I love him and his children very much. Even though well, you know...” She frowned. “I’d rather not think about how he erased you.”

  “What about Riley?
Since I’m going on a hate tour, would you like me to deliver a message to her as well?”

  “No.” She scrunched up her face. “I never did like that cunt. I had a feeling she was always a little too nice to your father, and I warned you about her, even. You should’ve listened.”

  This time it was me who laughed. “Lesson learned.”

  “Is it?” She closed her notebook. “If it truly is, whatever woman you’re currently over there thinking about—I can tell, so don’t try to deny it...Whoever she is, maybe settle down together, have some grandchildren that I’ll be lucid enough to enjoy for a few hours another two years from now?” She squeezed my hand. “I’m always right, Jake. Just do what I say.”

  I tried not to laugh again, but I couldn’t help it. I held her close and changed the subject, listening to her talk to me for the rest of the night, enjoying every second of her company.

  I told her I loved her, repeatedly, as her hand clasped mine atop the blanket and our time slowly ran out.

  Before she fell asleep, she hugged me hard and kissed my cheek, pleading with me to meet with my father and brother.

  I stayed by her side until she opened her eyes again, to see if she would make it for the second day in a row.

  She didn’t.

  She had no idea who I was, but she said I looked a lot like her oldest son. She asked me to leave a picture of myself at the front desk so she could show him, and then she told me to get the hell out of her room so she could get some more sleep.

  GILLIAN

  ~BLOG POST~

  Present Day

  This will be the last post I ever write here...I’m not sure if any of my readers ever stumbled upon this site since I’ve refused to check analytics or comments in months, but if you somehow stopped by, thank you. Thank you very much for allowing my words into your life, for reading my book, and for reading through all the blog posts that remained after publication.

  Since this post will remain here, I figure it should say something poignant, or something true and heartfelt as well.

  Dear You Know Who You Are,

  I love you. I truly love you and have never felt for anyone else what I felt (and still feel) for you. I’m well aware that you’ll probably never speak to me again, but I want you to know that you are undoubtedly the love of my life and no other man will ever come close.

  Love,

  Your anomaly.

  Gillian

  30,806 comments posted

  GATE C49

  JAKE

  New York (JFK)

  I was in the middle of reading Gate C49 when a loud knock came to my door Saturday morning.

  At first, I did what I normally did when I had an unexpected visitor—shrugged and ignored it.

  Unfortunately, the knocks became louder and louder, and after half an hour of this asshole not getting the point, I dragged myself out of my library. I didn’t bother looking through the peephole. I had a long list of words I was going to fire off when we came face to face.

  I twisted the doorknob and flung the door open, finding myself face to face with Evan. “What the fuck do you want?” I asked. “And how the hell do you people keep getting past Jeff?”

  “You. Me. The Red Bar. Now.” A look of defeat was in his eyes. “We only need five minutes.”

  “We?”

  “Me and Dad.”

  I started to slam the door, but he wedged his foot between the wood. “Five minutes and we’ll never bother you again.”

  “Is that a promise?”

  “Yes.” He nodded. “That’s a promise.”

  “I’m not sure you know the definition of that word, so I’ll pass.” I suddenly remembered what my mother said and held back a sigh. “Move your foot away from my door. I’ll be out in ten.”

  He stepped back and I managed to close the door without slamming it. I dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, grabbing my wallet off the dresser. I placed Turbulence into my jacket.

  I’d read the remaining few chapters during my flight tonight.

  I opened the door and found Evan leaning against the wall. “Where am I meeting you?”

  “The Red Bar. I can drive if you like.”

  “I don’t think so.” I hit the elevator button and the doors glided open.

  “Then I’m going to ride with you there,” he said, stepping inside.

  “The Red Bar is a fifteen-minute drive, Evan. You promised that I never have to hear from you after I gave you five.”

  “Consider the drive a part of the fine print.”

  “I’d rather not.”

  “If I’m not going to be able to talk to my own flesh and blood after today, you could at least let me get every second possible.”

  “Please refrain from pulling the ‘family means everything’ bullshit.” I stepped off the elevator at the parking garage level. “We both know it doesn’t.”

  “Jake—”

  “Get in the car,” I said, unlocking the doors. “But I meant what I said about the five minutes. Don’t talk to me on the way over.”

  “Deal.”

  I kept my eyes straight ahead as I drove away, unable to keep the images of Gillian and me from playing in my mind. She was invading all of my dreams now, and every now and then, I’d find something of hers in my apartment—something tucked away in her former hiding places.

  “There,” my brother said, pointing to a parking spot.

  I pulled over and turned off the car, more than ready to get this meeting over and done. I walked inside and spotted my father sitting in a corner booth alone.

  “You promised,” Evan said, noticing that I wasn’t moving. “Give him five minutes.”

  “It’s a shared five minutes,” I said. “Won’t you be coming along for the reunion, too?”

  “I’ve already spoken to him.” He sighed. “I’ll be at the bar. You can give me whatever seconds are left. If there are any.” He looked at me, a bit of hurt in his eyes. “I’d really like you to know that I’m sorry about Riley. I should’ve told you what she was doing behind your back instead of siding with Dad and erasing you from our lives. And I’m sorry for ruining what we had as brothers.”

  I said nothing. I just pulled out my phone and checked the time. Then I headed to my father’s table and sat down.

  “It’s four thirty,” I said. “You have my attention until four thirty-four.”

  “Four thirty-four?” He smiled. “Zero plus five is five isn’t it?”

  “I’m deducting a minute for that terrible ass suit you’re wearing. My eyes can only take so much in one day.”

  He laughed and leaned back in his chair, adjusting his cufflinks.

  “Can I get you something to drink, sir?” A waitress stepped in front of me.

  “I won’t be staying long enough for a drink.”

  “He’ll have a Coke,” my father said. “I’ll have a double.”

  “Yes, sir.” She walked away.

  “Careful,” I said, looking at my watch once more. “I wouldn’t waste conversation time on drinks, if I were you.”

  “I’m not wasting time at all. When you hear what I have to say, you won’t want to leave. It’s that important.”

  “I wouldn’t count on that.”

  The waitress set down our drinks and walked away.

  My father picked up his glass and brought it to his lips, taking the slowest sip I’d ever seen.

  “I wanted to talk to you because...” He hesitated. “I’m dying.”

  I blinked.

  He took another sip of his drink and his hands shook as he set it back down. “Are you going to say anything, Jake? Anything about what I just revealed?”

  “I’m waiting to hear the part that’s going to keep me from leaving.”

  “Fuck you, Jake.”

  “That’s my cue.” I tossed back my Coke and stood up. “Would you like to be buried or cremated? I’m all for honoring a man’s last wish.”

  “Wait.” He grabbed my sleeve. “Please. Please listen to what I
have to say.” He begged.

  “Without the time limit. If you don’t speak to me after today fine. Just give me today.”

  “So, you still have a problem sticking to your word.” I yanked my arm away from him but sat down. “I’ll give you until my flight.”

  “Fair enough.” He motioned for the waitress to refill our drinks and waited until she was out of earshot. “You knew your mother didn’t die in that plane crash and you’ve known for quite some time. You could’ve easily outed me, but you didn’t.”

  “Not because I didn’t want to.”

  “Then why didn’t you?”

  “Because it would’ve hurt her too much,” I said. “That’s what you do when you love someone. You don’t intentionally hurt them.”

  “No, not intentionally...” He sipped his drink. “You’ve also known that throughout his entire career, Evan has never flown a commercial plane and you could’ve easily outed him as well. Why not him?”

  “Leverage.”

  “Are you sure? Sure there’s not another “L” word you’re looking for?”

  “No. “Future Ruin” is two words and it starts with an ‘F’.”

  “Okay fine.” He shook his head. “I’ll make this conversation super quick. I want to give you my legacy, the airline.”

  I raised my eyebrow. “You honestly think I would ever accept that from you?”

  “What’s the difference between that and what you’re doing now?”

  “I’m not perpetuating a fake image or continuing to build an empire on top of ugly lies.”

  “Yet, you’re flying for me and cashing my checks.”

  “Out of circumstance. I’ll be filing my resignation next week. You’re welcome.”

  “I spoke to your mother about this years ago. Back when you know...” He looked genuine. “She said it was the only way she’d ever forgive me.”

  “Was that before or after you designed the plane with her death date on it?” I asked. “Before or after you decided that having a wife with a brain disease was no good for your image anymore?”

  “Jake, please. I’m trying here.”

  “Why not Evan? He’s as despicable and morally twisted as you.”