by Summers, MJ
She had booked herself in business class in hopes of avoiding people traveling with babies. She didn't need any more reason to burst into tears. So far the seat next to her was empty and she hoped it wouldn't be too much to ask that it would stay that way. She was incapable of small talk and wanted to be alone with her misery and exhaustion.
Even though she had left Colorado earlier that morning, it seemed like several days ago by now. She was plain worn out by the time she had arrived at JFK. She would be in London in a little over seven hours although she didn't really care how long it took to get there. Nothing would bring her any joy now that she and Cole were through for good. Only two weeks earlier, she had been starting a new life and for one brief moment, everything had been perfect. Then in a split second, her bubble burst, just as it always had for her. Maybe she just wasn't meant to live happily ever after.
A flight attendant stopped at Claire's row, leaning over to quietly address her, "You okay, sweetie?" she asked with concern.
Claire turned and nodded with a weak smile.
"Are you a nervous flyer or is it man trouble?" she asked. She looked to be about 50 years old, with warm green eyes and greying brown hair pulled back in a tight bun.
"The second one," Claire whispered.
"Thought so. Whoever he is, I'm sure it's his loss," she said, handing her a pillow and a blanket.
"Thanks," Claire said, folding the pillow and placing it on her shoulder, then resting her forehead on the window again.
A moment later, she noticed a man settle in beside her. "Shit," she thought, hoping he would ignore her. She didn't want to look directly at him, but could just see his arm out of the corner of his eye. He had a light blue dress shirt on and she could tell he was taking off his tie. He carefully folded the tie and placed it in his blazer pocket, then stood up to put the blazer in the overhead bin. She could see he was of medium height and was lean.
He sat down quietly, turning on his tablet to read the newspaper. Claire could feel him turn to look at her and she was relieved when he didn't say anything. Soon another flight attendant appeared with a pillow and blanket for him. He ordered two glasses of white wine in a thick French accent.
"Oh great," thought Claire, "Hopefully he gets drunk and becomes really obnoxious. That's all I need right now."
When the wines arrived, he tapped Claire on the shoulder, holding one out to her, "For you. You look like you could use a drink."
Claire looked into his face with confusion. He smiled at her kindly, "Take it please. I hate to drink alone."
Claire gave him a small smile and took the wine, "Thanks."
"Thank you," he tilted his head to her and took a sip of his drink. He had classic French good looks with a bit of stubble and a definite sense of style. He looked to be in his early forties and obviously had money based on his expensive suit and his watch. His medium-length textured black hair had a few wisps of grey running through it. Behind his glasses, his eyes were a dark brown. He was the type of man that exuded power and confidence and was obviously used to getting a lot of female attention.
Claire drained her glass of wine and then set it down on the armrest. The man flagged down the flight attendant, "My friend could use another wine when you have a moment," he paused, "Me as well."
She nodded and walked away, returning with two more wines and removing their empty glasses. The captain came on the speaker, advising the passengers that they would be delayed getting onto the runway for twenty minutes. Mutters of complaint could be heard throughout the cabin.
Claire took another large gulp of her wine and turned back to the window, watching the rain splash off a puddle on the ground outside. Her mind wandered back to the moment that she first saw Gabriela and Cole's baby, Tomas. She was covered with mud and her make-up was all over her face as they walked around the barn to go to their cabin. Claire was a total mess but she was happier than she had ever been.
She could feel that moment as though it was happening all over again. Gabriela's words as she introduced Cole to his son, then her little smirk as she looked Claire up and down like a bug that she could squash. The feeling of her knees going weak as her entire world was ripped apart in one sentence spoken in Gabriela's sexy Brazilian accent.
Claire had stood frozen for what seemed like a long time, the entire scene not registering. The blood was pumping so hard through her ears that it made it impossible to hear what Cole and Gabriela were saying. She excused herself in a whisper and walked quickly around to the other side of the barn, then stood bent over, feeling as though she would vomit. She somehow ended up in the shower back at the cabin, sobbing violently as the hot water rushed over her body and mud washed down the drain.
Claire's thoughts were interrupted as her empty glass was being gently taken from her hand. Mr. Sauve was replacing it with his untouched, full glass, "You obviously need it more than me."
"I suppose I do," Claire said quietly. "Thank you again...." her voice trailed off as she realized she didn't know his name.
"Luc," he said, handing her a napkin to wipe away her tears.
"Claire."
"And Claire, what do you do when you are not crying on airplanes?" he asked with a serious look. It was a forward question but life had taught him that he could get away with such boldness.
"Lately, I cry in cabs, at airports and wherever else I am," she said, starting to feel numb from the wine.
"Ahh, I see. I am guessing that you have made the classic mistake of the American woman. You have believed all the fairytales you were fed as a little girl and now you are devastated to discover that they don't always come true."
Claire gave him a dirty look, "I'm guessing that you are used to getting away with being such a patronizing ass since you are good-looking and rich," she drained the rest of her wine and then set it down, turning back to the window.
Luc's lips curled up in amusement. Few women surprised him. Most were predictable in their responses to him.
He was about to say something when he was interrupted by the captain's voice again, announcing that they were finally ready to depart. The plane started to back up and then turned towards the runway, as the flight attendants took their positions down the centre aisle to give the safety instructions.
Claire covered her lap with the blanket and rested her head against her pillow again, closing her eyes. The third glass of wine was taking effect, causing her to feel warm and wonderfully detached from her miserable reality. Her last thoughts before she drifted off to sleep were, "Wine. That's the answer. If I stay a little drunk for the rest of my life, I can get through this."
She woke five hours later. She felt cozy and for one dreamlike moment, she thought she was sleeping pressed up against Cole's body, although he had changed his cologne. She tightened her arm around his chest and made a soft moaning sound. Then reality hit her. She would never see Cole again. Her eyes flew open and she discovered she had been sleeping curled up with her head on Luc's shoulder and her arm wrapped around him.
She jerked her body away from him in shock. He was awake, reading a book on his tablet. He looked at her with playfulness in his eyes, "Good morning, sweetheart."
"Oh my God, I'm so sorry," she said, putting a hand over her face, "Have I been sleeping on you for very long?"
"About an hour. It's fine really. I thought it better to let you sleep. You seem to like me more than when you are awake."
Claire's mind flashed to calling him a patronizing ass. And now she had been sleeping on him, "Shit. I hope I didn't..." she searched for a more appropriate word for grope, "do anything inappropriate."
"Not at all," Luc said, with a little smirk, "You distracted me from my reading though by making the most adorable little sounds in your sleep."
"I was snoring?"
"No, no," he said with a laugh, "Little sighs and happy moans. You are a very sensual woman when you are asleep."
Claire's face blushed at his words. She realized she must have dragon breath and e
xcused herself to the washroom, bringing her carry-on bag with her.
Luc stared at her ass as she stepped over his feet to the aisle. He was not disappointed with what he saw.
Claire stood in the bathroom trying to steady herself as she brushed her teeth and washed her face. She rooted around in her make-up bag for her face cream and lip balm. When she looked in the mirror, she saw how puffy her eyes were. She was a frumpy mess in her grey over-sized cardigan and her hair was beyond fixing, looking somehow greasy and frizzy at the same time. She sighed heavily, putting her cream back in the bag and zipping it up. She felt very awake, after having finally slept for more than a couple of hours since she had booked her flight.
When she stepped out of the tiny washroom, her eyes scanned the cabin of the plane, falling on Luc. He was reading again, but he glanced up at her as she approached. He held her gaze for a moment and then moved his legs to the side to allow her to pass by him.
Two glasses of wine were waiting as she sat down. She smiled at Luc and thanked him.
"Are these both mine?"
"I thought I would have one as well, if you don't mind."
"Of course," she said, raising her glass and taking a long sip.
"Claire, I owe you an apology for what I said earlier. It was one of those comments that make people think the French are arrogant."
"In that case, you should apologize to French people, not me," she said, smiling at him. "I called you an ass and had a nap on you. Let's call it even."
"A fair resolution," he nodded, taking a sip of his wine. He stared at her for a moment, "You know, my shoulders can be used for things other than sleeping on. If you need to unburden yourself, I can listen without being an ass."
Claire finished her wine, and caught the eye of a flight attendant, signalling for another, "Thanks. It's close to what you thought though. Only I didn't completely believe in the fairytale until the last page. Right before it ended."
"I'm sorry to hear that," Luc said. He paused waiting for Claire to say more. When she didn't, he continued, "This is why I don't believe in marriage. Life is long and we are meant to experience love for as long as it is good. People aren't meant to chain themselves with one person and spend the rest of their life wishing they hadn't. Life is meant to be lived with pleasure. If you know that going in, it won't destroy you when it ends."
"You might be right... I don't know," she said, holding her glass up for a refill. She thought for a moment, "I have seen love last for other people and I thought I had it. But it wasn't meant to be. No one's fault."
"It has to be someone's fault."
"Well, it wasn't his or mine, anyway, which actually makes it worse. It would be so much easier to get over him if he had done something really rotten to hurt me. Then I would have my anger to get me through this."
Luc shifted his body to face hers, propping his knee up casually on his seat, "Hmmm, that does sound tricky. In this case, there is only one way to get over it. Pleasure of every kind."
Claire raised her eyebrow at him.
"Not right now. You cry now. Give yourself a week or two even, then you start seeking every type of joy that you have denied yourself. Food, wine, sex with lots of different men or women, dancing... whatever you like that will remind you that life is meant to be enjoyed."
Claire stared at him, unconvinced, "Well, Luc, you've certainly given me something to think about. For now, I will enjoy as much wine as I can."
"It's a good place to start," he said, nodding with approval, "But not too much of this wine. It's shit."
Claire laughed out loud for the first time in days, "It really is awful, isn't it?"
He nodded, studying her face as she smiled. He could see she was quite lovely, in spite of how she looked at the moment. Luc wanted to see what she looked like when she was dressed to go out.
"Tell me what you do for work. I have a few guesses and I want to see if I am right."
Claire was surprised that he had taken the time to wonder about her. She thought for a moment, "I'll give you five chances to see if you can guess it. If you don't, I won't tell you."
"Oh, she likes games, does she?" he asked, looking impressed, "Deal. But I get to ask one question after guess number four and you have to answer it truthfully."
"You're on."
"Teacher?"
"Nope."
"Nurse?"
"Oh please. Are you just going through the most stereotypical careers for women?"
"Librarian?"
"It's the sweater isn't it?"
Luc laughed out loud, "A little bit, yes. Answer the question."
"No."
He gave her a long look, searching for some type of clue in her blue eyes. Finding nothing, he decided to try to make her laugh again, "Porn star?"
Claire blushed, "Obviously not."
"Why would that be obvious? I'm sure porn stars wear ill-fitting sweaters and cry sometimes too."
"One more guess left."
"My question first. You must answer truthfully."
"Yes, I remember."
"What do you do for a living?"
Claire rolled her eyes, "Of course that's your question. You don't seem like the type to play fair."
"You agreed to it," Luc answered with a little smirk.
"I'm a chef."
"Hmmm," he replied, "I can see that. You have a deeply sensual side when you sleep, so it must be there when you are awake sometimes too."
"I don't know about that but I do love food anyway."
"I would love to taste your food sometime," he said, with his eyes falling to her lips for a brief moment.
Claire blushed at his meaning and looked down at her hands, "Well, maybe I'll get a job in London while I'm here."
"I don't live in London. I live in Paris most of the time. I've been in New York on business and have business in London now."
"What do you do?'
"Five guesses."
"Lawyer."
"No."
"Some type of businessman."
Luc laughed again, "Yes."
"Got it in two," she said looking satisfied with herself.
"I own a few nightclubs here and there."
"So pleasure is your business."
"In a sense. Making money is my real business, but I suppose I provide a diversion for people at the same time," Luc replied.
"A diversion. I can see how you would make money that way. People need to be distracted from life sometimes," Claire said, glancing out the window. It was light outside now as they neared London. It would be mid-morning when they landed.
Luc's gaze followed her to the window, "Looks like a new day is starting."
"That it is," Claire said, staring at the clouds.
The plane started to descend and as they lowered beneath the cloud cover, she could see the river Thames running through the city. The familiar sight didn't bring with it the excitement it normally did. She felt exhausted and empty inside, each passing mile taking her farther away from Cole. Her heart seared with pain at the thought of him.
As they got off the plane, Luc handed her a business card, "In case you need a diversion or a job."
Claire put it in her pocket, "Thank you, Luc."
"Do you know your way around London or would you like a hand to get where you are going?"
"I'm all set. My sister lives here, so I'll be well taken care of. Thank you for everything Luc. I haven't slept that well in weeks."
Luc leaned over and kissed her cheek, "Until we meet again," he said as turned to walk away. He took a few steps and then turned back to her, "I do mean for you to call me, Claire. You make me laugh, which few people can do."
Claire grinned and saluted him, turning to find the ladies room.
Twenty minutes later, Claire had a huge pile of luggage on two carts. She stared at the sum total of all her belongings packed up again to move on with her life. This time, most of her things were in tightly-packed boxes, rather than garbage bags. Cole had helped
her pack reluctantly, bringing several boxes up to their room for her, "I didn't think your things would make the plane ride in garbage bags."