by James Ross
A cigarette was lit before Tyler Cy could get to the door. Once inside he peeled off a twenty to rent a wheelchair for two hours. Upon his return Shari’s cigarette spewed ashes onto the seat. Her scathing look could have sent an innocent man to the electric chair. She waited impatiently as Tyler Cy wiped off the cushion. Then she took a seat and firmly planted a pair of Ralph Lauren sunglasses on her nose.
“I’m sure that the terminal is a no smoking area,” Tyler Cy said.
“We’ll see soon enough.” Shari tilted her head back, took a drag, and blew a trail of carcinogenic waste into the air as the skycap scurried off with their luggage. She noticed a NO SMOKING sign, flicked the butt with her middle finger, and sent the remains end over end across the asphalt.
Walking into the terminal at St. Louis Lambert International airport was akin to stepping inside a greenhouse. Sunshine poured through panes of glass. Those inside basked in the light and saw their images in the highly buffed floors. It was hospital clean—maybe cleaner.
Tyler Cy wheeled his wife down a hallway into the terminal. One look at the crowd clearly indicated the pair was going to have to hurry to make their flight. “I didn’t anticipate this kind of wait.”
“There you go again, Tyler Cy.” The whine jabbed. “Your lack of planning is going to cause us to miss our flight. I seen it before and it doesn’t surprise me.”
“If you would have been ready…”
“Don’t throw the mess on me. I was packed and set to go on time.”
Tyler Cy sighed as he wheeled the chair to the rear of the traversing line that wound back and forth. He surveyed the situation. “You know, Woobie…”
“Cut the crap.”
“I think this line is for the commercial flights. We’re on a charter.” After asking an attendant, he was redirected to an area off to the side. The space was considerably more open and free of traffic.
“You should know all of this before we get here. We wouldn’t have had to waste time over there with all the peons.” Shari reached for her purse and grabbed her compact. She flipped open the mirror and dabbed more blush on her cheeks using a circular motion. Then a left hand pushed a strand of hair into position. A hacking cough producing phlegm from parts unknown followed as she placed the items into her handbag.
Tyler Cy fetched the flight information out of his pocket and examined his itinerary. “I got our boarding passes online.”
“We’re in first class, aren’t we?”
Tyler Cy gave her a look suggesting that he knew that she wouldn’t stand for anything less. “You must think that…”
“I can’t assume anything with you. You’re just like a little kid that has to be taken care of by his mommy. You’d think that you’d grow out of that stage once you got older. But all of you guys are the same. You all need to be taken care of. I seen it with your brother Petey Frank and I seen it with you from the very start. It has to be somethin’ that your mother did.” Shari reached into her purse for her lighter. She fidgeted with it and nervously rotated it over and over in her fingers.
“There’s no need to bring my mother into this,” Tyler Cy said as he positioned the wheelchair in line.
Only one couple was ahead of them at the airport security checkpoint. TSA personnel administered the identification process and metal screening.
Shari looked over her shoulder and whispered to her husband. “Maybe this buggy will get us preferential treatment.” She giggled at her own statement. The smiles turned to frowns a minute later when she was asked to present ID and passport. Producing her driver’s license was no big deal. That was readily available in her wallet. But soon thereafter she rifled through the contents of her purse trying to locate her passport. “I know it’s in here.”
“I asked you several times if you had it.”
“I did. It was on the dresser. I grabbed it and put it in my bag.”
“Which bag?” Tyler didn’t wait for an answer. “Was it one that we checked in at the curb?”
“No, it was my purse.” She hurried through the items. “I know it’s here.” Her handbag was emptied on the table. No passport. All the side compartments were examined. Still no passport. “I don’t know where it went.” The frustration mounted. It was time to shift blame. “Quit screwin’ with this Tyler Cy! I know you have it!”
Tyler Cy stepped away, reached for his cell phone and placed a call to home. Vanny, their maid immediately recognized that something was amiss as the call came through on Tyler Cy’s private line. With a distinct accent she answered the phone, “Donnelly residence.”
“Vanny, we’re at the airport and it looks like Shari may have left her passport on the dresser in her bedroom. Can you check to see if it’s there?”
A minute later Vanny confirmed Tyler Cy’s suspicion.
After glancing at his watch he gave instructions. “Okay, we use Metro Roundabout Cab Service for all of our daily deliveries. I’ll put a rush on it so they’ll be by soon. Have it ready for them when they arrive.”
“Si, Senor.”
After ending the call Tyler Cy turned to see Shari primping. She was busy inspecting her manicure. Bracelets clanged and rings glittered. “It wasn’t at home, was it?”
Tyler Cy was coy. “We figured out where it was.” He turned to the flight reservationist. “Our flight leaves in less than a half hour and we’ve got a passport on the way. What should we do?”
“None of the flights leave until all of the chartered passengers are on board.” The reservationist looked at his itinerary. “You’re in first class. Any idea when it will get here?”
“It’s being delivered via a cab service, hopefully within 45 minutes or so.”
“I’ll tell the pilot. He can explain to the rest of the passengers that we have some sort of delay.”
“I can’t believe they don’t have a hospitality area around here. What sort of charter is this?” Shari griped. She noticed a coffee shop fifty yards away. “I’d love to have a caramel macchiato. Lenora turned me on to that a month ago when we went shopping at Saks.”
“It’s too hot out for coffee.”
“What’s that mean? Are you trying to force a frappe on me?”
“I thought that was your favorite.”
“Where have you been? You don’t listen to a thing I say, do you?” Shari gave Tyler Cy a look that would have popped corn. “Ever since Lenora and I had that caramel macchiato I’ve got a new favorite. I told you that three weeks ago.” She wheeled her chair around. “Come on. Let’s see if they’ll sprinkle hazelnuts on it like they did at the mall.”
“We probably shouldn’t go too far away. The passport is on its way.”
“Tyler Cy, quit being so cheap!” Her screech turned heads. She placed both hands on the wheels and pushed away. “Do I have to get it myself?”
An agreeable partner, Tyler Cy quickly caught up and pushed the wheelchair. “They’re serving food and drink on the flight.”
“I want some now!” Shari opened her purse and searched for a pack of cigarettes. “Besides, whatever they give us on the plane will just be that bland, generic crap. I seen what they serve. I want a specialty coffee.”
The sight of short, bald, pudgy Tyler Cy dressed in a floral island shirt, shorts, and calf-high dark socks pushing a tan, gorgeous, decked-out babe in a wheelchair caused the reservationist and TSA guard to chuckle. “That looks like a second honeymoon that is doomed to fail before it gets started.”
A sheepish grin followed as the reservationist rubbed her forefinger and thumb together.
The specialty coffee shop couldn’t have occupied more than a hundred square feet, but in that tiny space was an impressive assortment of flavored coffees, brewed coffees, lattes, espressos, mochas, macchiato, iced coffees, spiced teas, Frappuccino, and smoothies. In addition, an assortment of salads, sandwiches, muffins, scones, yogurt, fruit, and ice cream made one salivate.
“I want one of those too,” Shari said as the drink was being made. She pointed
to a blueberry muffin.
As Tyler Cy picked up the pastry he noticed a $7.95 price tag on the wrapper. “We’ll be eating on the plane in less than an hour.”
“I want it with my macchiato.”
“Did Lenora introduce you to that too?”
“Stop being a smart-ass.” Her attention had shifted to the magazine rack at the nearby book store. Shari couldn’t resist the cover article that indicated a hot Hollywood starlet was pregnant with triplets that had been fathered by an Oman native that she had encountered on a world peace keeping mission.
Tyler Cy took care of the tab which totaled nearly twenty bucks and snatched the drink and muffin from the counter. He turned to give the items to Shari.
“What am I supposed to do with this?” Her comment caught him off-guard.
“It’s what you wanted.”
“No, you idiot. You didn’t get it in a to-go cup. We can’t leave the area with this. I want to go to the bathroom.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Have them put it in a cup that we can leave with.” She shook her head as she looked at the beverage. “They’ll have to make another one. All of the shaved hazelnuts have to stay on top. If she flips it over and pours it into another cup it will ruin the look of the drink.”
Tyler Cy let out an exasperated sigh. “She’s not going to do that for free.”
“Then you’ll have to buy another one.” Shari flipped her wheelchair around and rolled the wheels. “I need to go potty.”
Tyler Cy returned to wait in line, ordered another macchiato in a different container, and wondered why he bothered to get married in the first place, let alone schedule a vacation with the woman who had filed to divorce him.
Shari rolled up just as he was settling the bill. “Those bathrooms are filthy.” She was livid. “The floor was sticky. I had to get one of those paper seat liners to sit on. The toilet paper was the cheap kind and uncomfortable to use.”
Tyler Cy detected smoke on her breath. “I see the trip wasn’t totally wasted.” He put two fingers to his mouth and mimicked taking a drag.
“Screw you.” Shari took her right hand and winced as she rubbed her left bicep. “Where’s my drink?” Shari eyed the beverage. “Give it to me. Give it to me.” Her husband delivered the treat. “Now push me. My arms hurt.”
Obediently Tyler Cy pushed the wheelchair toward the check-in area. The pair only traveled twenty feet when fireworks erupted.
“Where’s my magazine?”
“What magazine?”
“The one I was looking at.”
“I’m sure it’s back on the rack.”
“I told you to get it for me.”
“No you didn’t.”
“Yes I did!”
Tyler Cy looked skyward.
“Get it for me. I need something to read on the plane.” Shari took a sip of her drink. “I can’t stand the thought of trying to make conversation with you for two hours.”
Chapter Eighteen
As the pair approached the check-in area, the aggravated looks on the faces of the reservationist and TSA guard told the story. Standing nearby was the driver for Metro Roundabout Cab Service.
The reservationist was theatrical. “Where have you been? We’ve held the flight for over fifteen minutes.”
Tyler Cy fumbled for an excuse. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think that the driver would get here that quickly.”
The personnel jumped into motion. “Empty the contents of your pockets in the container. Put all carry-on items on the conveyor. We’ve got a pilot that’s fuming.”
Tyler Cy obeyed the instructions. Shari fumbled.
“Dammit, Tyler Cy! Hold this.” She handed her drink to her husband. She pointed to her bracelets, eyed her rings and tugged at an earring. “Will these pass your inspection?”
“It’s hard to say.”
Shari snapped her fingers and motioned for Tyler Cy to push her forward.
“You’ll have to walk through. The wheelchair will definitely set off the alarm.”
A frustrated look followed. Eyes rolled to the heavens. Shari’s shoulders shrugged as she rolled her head from left to right. “Don’t you think the government is overdoing all of this security?”
“It’s for passenger safety.”
“Yeah, right. All they want is our tax dollars. They think they can spend it better than we can.” She reached forward expecting Tyler Cy to help her to her feet. “Come on Tyler Cy, help me up.” He scrambled to place the items that he was holding into a tray. “Don’t spill my drink!”
Once on her feet Shari inched through the metal detector. To everyone’s surprise the sensors stayed silent. “See how our government wastes our money.” She motioned for Tyler Cy to get the wheelchair through security. “Now how safe does that make you feel, Tyler Cy? I have enough heavy metal on me to start a band.” She chuckled at her own humor. Then she tapped her fingernails systematically on the aluminum facing. “Now give me my drink. I’m thirsty.”
After passing through the metal detector Tyler Cy hurried. He cordially thanked the attendants before grabbing the carry-on luggage, slinging one bag over his shoulder, and holding the other one in his right hand. Before pushing the wheelchair he quickly handed the macchiato to Shari. She cradled it like a hand warmer and off they rolled to the gate.
Showing up late was not in Tyler Cy’s constitution. He was always punctual. It was a habit that he had possessed since elementary school. Not only was he miffed, but he could only imagine the embarrassment he would feel upon stepping onto the plane. They were cleared and Tyler Cy sped up the pace as they exited the terminal and entered the ramp.
“Dammit! Tyler Cy! Look what you did now!” The macchiato went airborne—or at least the contents of the cup did. The final destination was Shari’s floral print blouse. “Stop! Dammit!” She pulled the wet fabric off of her thighs. “What kind of idiot are you?”
“I was hurrying. We’re late, Woobie.”
“I don’t give a crap.” Her hands brushed across her lap. “Grab my hair dryer out of my bag. I’m not going anywhere looking like this.”
“Can’t we board? You can change in the restroom on the plane.”
“I’ve got no idea what goes through a man’s mind. Wheel me back to the ladies room. I intend to look fresh.”
Airline personnel scrambled. “The pilot is not going to like that.”
“He’ll get over it.” Shari turned her head and yapped over her shoulder. “I’m sure his girlfriend can wait an extra hour for his arrival.” She disappeared into restroom only to be heard five seconds later. “While you’re waiting go get me another macchiato!”
Twenty minutes later with a fresh drink in hand, Tyler Cy helped the love of his life onto the airline. The daggers from the passengers soon hit their mark.
“Our mechanical problem just boarded.”
“How much did you tip the pilot?”
“At least two people out of a hundred and forty are happy.”
Shari had a tight-lipped smirk. The charter wasn’t in the air five minutes when she fell asleep. At least she didn’t have to entertain her husband with conversation about the world according to Shari.
Chapter Nineteen
The pilot of the charter opened the throttle. The normal three-hour flight arrived at Cancun International Airport in two hours and forty minutes. The temperature was eighty-one degrees at touchdown. A warm blast of tropical air greeted the pair as they stepped outside.
“Now do you have everything under control?”
Tyler Cy took it like a heavyweight champ. “Why should there be a concern?”
“Because I seen you in action before. You’ve already screwed up my new blouse.”
There it was again: that little bit of country that crawled under Tyler Cy’s skin. If he talked like that in negotiations he’d never close a deal. “And look how beautiful it turned out. You made it work, Woobie.” He made a move to put his arm around her to give her
a squeeze.
“Get away from me! I don’t need no condescending sympathy.”
Tyler Cy cringed but tolerated the misuse. He still loved her. “Can we put the gloves down and enjoy a few days in paradise? It’s our anniversary.”
“Yeah, our last together. If you brought me down here thinking that you were going to get some love and affection then you’re mistaken. I came down here for the weather and atmosphere.” Shari searched her purse for a cigarette and quickly lit up. She looked away from him and tapped her foot, then glanced down, admired her pedicure, and glowed with satisfaction knowing that the shade of polish perfectly matched the color of her sandals. But the mood quickly turned venomous. “I hope you didn’t put us on one of those tourist buses that shuttle cattle.”
“Don’t you worry, Woobie. I got you a limousine.”
“Probably with one of those crazy Mexican drivers that throws us all around the inside.”
“Would you have preferred a helicopter?” Tyler Cy could tell that the suggestion planted a seed.
“I don’t know why you didn’t call ahead and get me a wheelchair. My foot is killing me. Making me stand here in this hot sun has taken a lot of fun out of the afternoon.”
“I thought you loved it in Mexico. What else would you rather be doing?”
“My idea of Mexican sun is lying around the pool with a breeze off the water, a Grand Marnier and tonic with a twist, and a cabana boy running over when I snap my fingers.” Shari reached down and rubbed her foot then glanced at Tyler Cy. “How much longer?”
Luckily he was spared an answer. The limo driver arrived at that very instant, frantically waving a sign out the window with D-O-N-N-E-L-L-Y scribbled on it.
But nothing happens too fast in Mexico. The driver pulled to a stop after seeing the signal from Tyler Cy, then sauntered over. He loaded the luggage into the trunk and reached for Shari’s purse.
“No! Not that!” She reached for her purse, nine rings glittering in the afternoon sun. “I need that!” She fumbled and then dug into the contents.
“What are you doing?”
“Documenting.” Shari pulled her cell phone from her purse, walked to the back of the car and took a picture of the license plate. Then she took a picture of the driver.