by Kara Isaac
She’d heard it before. But when? The kaleidoscope in her mind finally clicked the pieces into place and she wanted to fall through the floor. The terminal. He was the guy she’d backed into during her awkward conversation with Nate. She was 99% sure of it.
“Sir?” They had reached the front of the line. The guy turned and handed the woman his boarding pass. She scanned it and handed it back. “Thank you, sir. Enjoy your flight.”
“Thank you.” He strolled into the jetway, not pausing to look back.
“Ma’am?” Paige handed her pass to the woman while watching the handsome stranger disappear. She felt an odd pang of disappointment that he hadn’t waited for her. Stop it! No more hot guys, remember? As much as she hated to admit it, the physical attraction was one of the reasons she’d stayed with Alex so long. Too much physical attraction, not enough substance. She wasn’t making that mistake again.
“Thank you, ma’am.” The woman handed her boarding pass back. “We’re boarding front and back today, so you need to turn left at the bottom.”
Paige stared at the archway leading to the air bridge. The last time she’d flown out of O’Hare, Obama had been in his first term as President and she’d been a fun loving twenty-four-year-old whose biggest concern was whether she’d packed enough books in her carry-on to keep her entertained between Chicago and New Zealand. Today that same bag was stuffed with medical records documenting why she would set off metal detectors at airports for the rest of her life.
“Ma’am? Are you all right?” The gate attendant was looking at her with something that bordered on concern.
“Yes, fine. Sorry.” She tried to put one foot in front of the other, tried to pretend she did this all the time, but her feet refused to move. Her heart thumped at a speed usually reserved for a high intensity workout, and it felt like there was a plastic bag over her mouth cutting off her air supply. Alex was right. She couldn’t get on a plane. She’d been kidding herself to think she could. She swung around, almost colliding with the two people behind her.
“Watch it!” The overweight businessman held up his hands, as if afraid of being contaminated. A combination of stale sweat and alcohol assaulted her. Both he and his companion smelled like they’d come straight from a bar.
“I’m sorry.” She muttered the words as she walked back to the empty gate lounge.
Back to what? The question repeated in her mind as she watched the woman scan the boarding passes of the last remaining passengers.
Nothing. She had quit her job, leased her condo, and while Chicago was filled with people who loved her, they also treated her with kid gloves, fearful that one wrong move would cause her to break on them again. She had to get on that plane. No matter what it cost her. It couldn’t be more than the last time.
Four
The seats were even more cramped than Paige remembered. Or the general population had gotten larger. Probably both.
Her lungs constricted, fighting her own building panic. Her attempts to suck in air felt like breathing through a straw.
Her fingers scrambled for her seatbelt. She had to get off. Before it was too late. What on earth had made her think she could do this? How could she have believed enough time had passed to banish the terror now crawling up her throat?
The plane picked up speed, taxiing down the runway, bouncing from side to side. They weren’t even going to get off the ground. Or they would for a second, then would come plummeting back to earth, the plane shattering like it was made of Lego. She’d be spat out onto the tarmac like one of those poor girls on that Air Asiana flight that crashed at SFO in 2013. Because that was how her life worked.
The metal clasp finally gave way beneath her grasping hands and the belt of death fell away. Grabbing the headrest in front of her, she tried to get to her feet, tried to open her mouth and scream whatever words she needed to make it stop. To get thrown off the flight, back to Nate, back to safety.
The forces of the speeding plane pushed her back into her seat. Her fingers scraped at the seat in front of her again. It wasn’t too late. If only she could stand up, they’d have to abort takeoff. Let her out.
A vice against her waist pinned her to her seat. Jesus, help me. The thought ricocheted through her mind. Her vision cleared enough to see it was the muscular arm of the aisle passenger. His elbow rested on her left armrest, while his fingers gripped her right one.
Clear blue eyes bore down on hers with authority. “Ma’am, you need to stay in your seat.”
It was a courtesy statement. She clearly had no choice in the matter. The plane let out a shudder as the front wheels lifted off the ground. As they left earth, the tendrils of terror only tightened. Please let it be fast. Some sort of explosion ripping them into eternity before they even knew it had happened.
She sagged against the seat, her energy gone. No point fighting the inevitable. She couldn’t even find the words to protest as the stranger reached over and clipped her belt back together.
“Do you have anything you could take?” His words jolted her head left.
“Huh?”
He had salt and pepper hair and looked to be in his fifties. “A sleeping pill, maybe? Something that will knock you out for a few hours?”
Her mother had pressed a packet of something into her palm, “Just in case.” She’d protested, but given up and slid the small cardboard box into her purse to placate her mom.
“I think so.” She fumbled for her purse, eventually catching the straps and pulling it onto her lap. She dug through its contents, extracted the box and showed it to her seatmate.
“Good.” Taking the box from her trembling fingers, he flicked open the end and withdrew the foil packet. “Hold out your hand.” Popping a couple of pills, he tipped them into her open palm and nodded to the water bottle she had stashed in the seat pocket. “Booze usually works better, but that’ll do. In half an hour, you’ll be out like a light.”
The two little white pills on her hand stared up at her like beacons. She was stronger than this. This was only the flight to L.A. Shouldn’t she save pharmaceutically induced unconsciousness for the long haul to Sydney?
Her fingers closed over them. No. She could do this. It was only four hours. She didn’t need—Oh dear God. The death capsule lurched and dropped, engines screaming in a symphony of torturous high-pitched sound as they fought for air. Her body lifted from her seat as the belt tightened across her legs, straining to hold her down. Her mind screamed. Incoherent words, images, memories, in no particular order. Was this how Ethan had felt in his final moments?
No, her brother was brave. He’d gone to meet his Maker serenely among all the chaos that raged around them.
The plane stabilized, and everyone around her seemed to let out a collective rush of pent up breath.
The intercom crackled to life. “Ladies and gentlemen, please ensure you keep your seatbelts tightened. We anticipate more turbulence ahead.”
Paige was going to lose her mind with one more bump. Loosening her grip, she peered at the small pills that promised oblivion. Opening her mouth, she knocked them back dry.
Her brother was the hero, not her.
Josh let out a sigh and paused the movie. It was the third he’d tried, after a couple of TV shows. None had been able to keep his attention for more than a few minutes. At least the early turbulence seemed to be over.
Stretching his legs out, he turned his screen off and attempted to distract himself with a sip of his pre-breakfast smoothie.
He hated smoothies.
Running his hand through his hair, he squashed the desire to give himself a good slap. He had to get a grip. With eighteen hours of flying still ahead of him before he was home, he would lose his mind by the time he reached Sydney if he didn’t stop mentally replaying the scene at the gate. O’Hare was a huge airport. What were the odds of the two of them falling over each other twice?
There was something about the blonde that tugged at him. He didn’t know why. He knew nothing about her
. Besides, she was taken. If he’d had the presence of mind to check out her left hand there probably would have been a sparkling rock on it. What was he doing even thinking about her?
His life was not conducive to a relationship. It was better this way. He couldn’t afford to lose control of his senses ever again. There was too much at stake.
He’d been away from home for too long. That was all. Once he got back, he could forget all about strangers in airports who made him wish for something more.
Pushing his footrest down, Josh stepped into the aisle. He needed the bathroom and a strong coffee, in that order. Then he’d spend some time reviewing the new song Amanda and Connor had been working on.
The business class cabin was almost full. Most of its inhabitants either tapped away at various electronic devices or had their eyes closed, allowing the soothing hum of the engines to lull them back into lost sleep.
The curtain behind him opened and a flight attendant tugged a drinks trolley through. He stepped back to give her space to move past him. The metal contraption slid through, dragging the blue material with it.
She gave it another tug, but the curtain stayed stuck. “I’m so sorry, sir. It’ll just be a second.”
“Let me help.” He reached over the trolley, found where the material had snagged against a protruding tray, and eased it free. “That should do it.”
In the economy cabin, a movement a few rows down caught his eye.
It was her. About eight rows down, easing her way into the aisle from a middle seat. Her hair was now pulled back in a messy ponytail and the jacket she’d been wearing had been discarded, leaving a green T-shirt.
She paused in the aisle, her hand on the seat back of the row in front of her. She probably hadn’t seen him and had no reason to look his way. Economy bathrooms were in the back of the plane.
She took a step, then another, in his direction. Without warning, she lurched to one side, almost tumbling into the lap of an unsuspecting passenger. At the last possible second, she steadied herself and tried to walk forward, but instead wove side-to-side like a barney on a surfboard, despite the now-stable plane.
Her gaze bounced all over the place, like she couldn’t focus. She staggered a couple more rows then stopped, her scattered focus landing on him. Her eyes caught his and he found himself pinned by her clear, unwavering, gaze. And a strong whiff of liquor.
Then as quickly as it was cast, the spell was broken, as she doubled over and vomited on her own feet.
Josh wrenched the curtain closed on the classy scene. He glanced at his watch. It wasn’t even eight. Who started drinking before breakfast?
Whatever her reason, he hoped she got help. He’d loved a woman with a drinking problem once. It had almost destroyed them both.
Five
The second-worst twenty-one hours and fifty-five minutes of her existence were over. At last. Paige stopped in front of the sliding doors that would open to her new life. She should pause here, savor the moment, make some sort of meaningful observation, but the truth was her head was spinning like a pageant girl’s baton and her tight grasp on the baggage cart was about all that was keeping her from the floor.
Whatever her mother had given her must’ve come from pharmaceutical purgatory. Never again. The last time she’d felt this sick she’d been a naïve twenty-year-old who’d believed a fresh-faced frat boy when he swore the punch was virgin.
She forced her feet forward, pushing her heavy cart through the sliding doors, and found herself at the top of a ramp leading into the deafening arrivals hall.
“Paige, over here!” Her cousin’s voice cut through the noise. Paige followed the direction of the call to where Kat stood flailing her arms, even though her bright, retro-inspired top was a beacon on its own.
Paige navigated through the crowd toward her cousin. Everything hurt. Even trying to smile. “Hey. I said you didn’t need to come get me. I was going to catch the train and then a cab.” She’d had it all planned. Known exactly what she needed to take and to where. Although she’d failed to factor in managing everything with two hundred dollars of excess luggage in tow.
Kat enveloped her in a hug, her five-foot-seven frame mirroring Paige’s.
“Not come get you? Don’t be silly. My favorite cousin is moving Down Under. This is the most exciting thing that has happened all year.” Kat’s usual hybrid accent had taken a distinct swing into all-Australian. Her abilities as a linguistic chameleon came courtesy of an American father, Australian mother, and a childhood spent on diplomatic postings.
“Liar, pants on fire.” Paige tried to squash the wave of insecurity that hit. Kat was a sought-after film and TV makeup artist who lived a jet-setting life. They might look like sisters but that was where the similarities ended. Kat was adventurous. Outspoken. Fearless. Everything Paige wasn’t. The woman had even won an Oscar, for Pete’s sake.
“Okay, fine. Second most exciting.” Kat laughed as they navigated around plastic seats and walked toward another large set of sliding doors. She gestured to an older man in a navy suit standing near the exit. “Geoff, can you take Paige’s luggage?”
He stepped forward, and there was a slight awkward pause as Paige hesitated, unwilling to relinquish her death grip on the solid cart.
“Geoff’s our driver. I booked us a car.”
Why? “Don’t you have one?”
Her cousin shot her an embarrassed look. “It’s in the shop.”
“Again?”
Her cousin shrugged. “What can I say? I only got back a few days ago and it always takes me a while to get used to driving on the left again. A few prangs are inevitable.”
A few? It felt like every time they Skyped Kat’s poor car was getting repaired. “You’re a road menace.”
“Yeah, but you love me.” Kat wrapped an arm around her shoulder as they maneuvered around a crowd of Japanese tourists and out the door.
A blast of hot air warmed her skin and welcomed her to her new home. Planes roared over the white terminal and the huge gray cement parking building rose in front of them. Between flights, the sounds of an espresso machine emanated from a nearby outdoor café, shielded by assorted trees that were a stark contrast to the ugly industrial structures. Kat marched along the pavement, cutting a swath through the crowd. Paige willed her lethargic legs to match her cousin’s pace.
“This is us.” Kat gestured to a late model BMW a few feet away.
The driver pulled out his keys and clicked a button. The car beeped to life, lights flashing, and trunk opening.
Turning in a full circle, Paige lifted her head and tried to absorb everything. She was back in the Southern Hemisphere. Where the seasons were inside out and even the water went down the drain in a different direction.
Ugh, spinning was a bad idea. Now everything moved in all sorts of directions, the concrete rolling like an outgoing tide underneath her feet. She centered her gaze on the back windshield of the car, sucking in slow breaths.
“I’m so glad you made it. I wasn’t sure you would.” Kat spoke softly, her words almost drowned out by the noise surrounding them.
Paige looked at the person who knew her best in the world. She wasn’t just talking about the flights.
She swallowed down the hurricane of emotions that threatened. “Me neither.”
They held each other’s gaze for a moment. The wobble on her cousin’s mouth hinted at suppressed emotion. Kat didn’t do vulnerable. Paige could count the number of times she’d seen Kat cry on one finger.
“C’mon. Poor Geoff is waiting. We can catch up when we get home.” Kat opened the back door, placing a pair of gorgeous designer-looking sunglasses over her eyes. On the other side, the driver stood next to the other back door—open, waiting for her.
She’d made it. She was jobless, boyfriendless, and only knew one person in the entire country. But, for the first time in a long time, Paige could breathe.
Home sweet home. Finally. Traffic on the M5 had been nose-to-tail, as it alw
ays was when he came back from the US, since the major airlines managed to time their arrivals to hit the worst of the morning peak.
Josh dropped his duffle bag and guitar case at the bottom of the stairs, and padded down the hallway, his footsteps muffled by the plush gray carpet.
His mother stood in the bright kitchen, her slim back to him as she dried dishes, Jenny Simmons playing from the speakers on the bay window in front of her.
He paused for a second, his eyes soaking up the familiar sight. His mother, oblivious to his presence, belted out a worship song, her enthusiasm almost making up for the fact that she couldn’t carry a tune if it was handed to her in a bucket.
He snuck up behind her and popped his head over her white T-shirt clad shoulder, wincing as she chose that moment to hit a particularly high note with great enthusiasm. No wonder the poor dog was nowhere to be seen.
“Mum, if you wanted to audition for the band, all you had to do was say so.”
“Eek!” Her blonde head jumped, almost hitting him in the chin, as she swung around and swiped at him with the blue dishtowel. “How many times have I told you? Don’t do that. You’re going to give me a heart attack one day.”
“Well, stop making it so much fun.”
His mum laughed, green eyes crinkling at the edges. “Careful or I might get a desire to make liver for your welcome home dinner. Where’s my hug?”
She wrapped her arms around his waist as he reached down, bending to encompass her petite frame, almost lifting her off her feet as he enveloped her.
“We’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you too.”
“How was America?”
“How was South Africa?”
Their words mingled together, and they laughed.
“Okay, I’ll put the jug on and we can have a proper catch up. You just missed your father. He’s had to go into the office.”
“Really?” Monday was usually their day off, one they guarded fiercely when they weren’t traveling. “Is everything okay?”