YOLO

It wasn’t supposed to have been this way. Dave should have been squashed against her in cattle class, not the tiny white -haired lady who had introduced herself immediately they sat down.

"Hello, dear, I'm Nancy."

"I'm Clare," Clare had said dutifully. Dave should have been sharing the armrest with her, elbows bumping as they tried to cut the food with tiny plastic utensils. Instead Nancy kept asking Clare for help to adjust her screen, her seat, reach the light switch, control the air and arrange her blanket. Clare had complied, her irritation negated by Nancy’s sweet smile and twinkling blue eyes. At least it distracted her from dwelling on Dave’s betrayal. She had walked in on him and her roommate Elsa doing the horizontal tango two days before the trip. She shuddered in revulsion at the recollection, then grinned as she remembered dumping the slimy, stinking water of Elsa’s fish tank over them both. The last fish had died days before and Elsa, always a slob, hadn’t got round to cleaning the tank out.

“Are you alright, dear?”

Clare snapped out of her reverie to find Nancy peering at her in concern.

“Yes, just daydreaming.”

“Man trouble,” Nancy said. “Am I right?”

Clare sighed.

“Yes. This was supposed to be our engagement trip, but I caught him cheating and broke it off. I decided not to waste the ticket and fly solo. When else was I going to get to Greece? It seemed like a good idea at the time, but I’ve never gone on a trip like this by myself.”

Nancy shook her head and tutted. With her snowy, white hair and soft, wrinkled face, she resembled an illustration of a sweet grandmother in a children’s book.

“He sounds like a son of a bit…oops, pardon my French. You did the right thing. My husband went on a so-called business trip with his secretary. He didn’t know that I knew. By the time he came back, I had filed for divorce, emptied the bank account and given all his clothes to the thrift shop. He was a stockbroker. Had some real nice custom-made suits. There were a lot of well-dressed poor people in the area for a while.”

Her chuckle was infectious, and Clare found herself enjoying her first genuine laugh in what seemed like a very long time. The attendants cleared the meal trays and returned with the drinks cart. Clare asked for a diet soda. Nancy grimaced.

“What is it that you young people say? YOLO? You only live once. Have a nice glass of wine, and I’ll have a whisky, please.”

“But I hardly ever drink…oh, well, why not? White wine, please,” said Clare.

“Cheers,” said Nancy, raising her glass. “Here’s to new beginnings. Oh, damn. Here comes Verity.”

A plump lady with a worried expression came down the aisle, holding a clipboard. Nancy hastily put her glass of whisky on Clare’s tray.

“Hi, Nancy. Glad you’re not drinking. You know it doesn’t agree with your medication. Is everything okay so far? Good. Let me check you off. Now where’s Dwight?”

She continued greeting people and checking names on her board. Nancy grabbed her whisky back and winked.

“She’s our minder.”

“You’re with a group?”

“Yes, more’s the pity. My daughter insisted I move into this fancy retirement community and so there I am, waiting for God. It’s alright, I suppose. They do organize trips like this. It just gets annoying when they treat us like children. Oh, hi, Edgar.”

A tall, silver-haired man with a stoop shuffled past.

“I’m tired of being cooped up in this sardine can,” he growled. “Next time, I’m going first class.”

Nancy peered down the aisle behind him.

“Who is it this time? Oh, it’s Rose. There are five single women to every single man in that place, so even the grumpy old geezers like Edgar get admirers.”

Clare craned her neck and saw a skinny little woman with ginger hair following Edgar.

“I had no idea retirement communities could be so interesting,” she said.

Nancy snorted.

“Hah. We’re old, not dead. People are still people, whether they’re eighteen or eighty.”

She tossed down the rest of her whisky, gave a little belch and pulled her blanket up.

“I’m going to have a nap now, dear. See you when we land.”

Soon she was softly snoring. Clare pulled out her guidebook to Greece and began reading it for the umpteenth time.

“Nai means yes and ochi means no. Be aware of pickpockets. Do not flush toilet paper down the commode…”

The wine finally took effect, and she nodded off, waking to Nancy shaking her arm.

“Look! The Parthenon. Isn’t it exciting?”

Clare gasped as she saw the Parthenon as the plane descended, a tiny doll’s house amid the sprawl of Athens. The trip suddenly seemed real at last.

Clare ended up behind Nancy’s group as everyone disembarked. Nancy turned to wave as Verity, bustling around with her clipboard like a chubby sheepdog, herded them on.

“Have an amazing time, dear, and don’t look back.”

“To new beginnings,” Clare called, waving back. She took a deep breath and plunged on.

Several days later, she was sitting in a café near the Parthenon, enjoying people watching as she sipped an ice-cold frappe. She pulled out her journal and began to make notes.

“Adventures! Found my hotel by myself, toured the Parthenon, met some cool students from Australia and UK, explored Monastiraki…had to tell Manolis to get lost because I do not want to get married to a Greek waiter or anyone else. I visited the beach, just amazing and have hardly thought about Dave though he keeps sending messages which I delete. Spent hours in the Byzantine Museum which I could not have done in a million years if Dave was with me."

“I thought I recognized you. Mind if I join you?”

Clare looked up in surprise and beamed as she saw Nancy.

“Of course. How are you? Where’s the rest of your gang?”

Nancy flopped down in the chair opposite and groaned.

“Oh, my aching feet. I’d forgotten how much work sightseeing is. I might be ancient, but I refuse to wear ugly orthopedic shoes. I escaped, for a little while anyway. I did tell Verity, so she doesn’t set Interpol to hunt me down. I couldn’t take it anymore. Edgar bitching and moaning, Rose fussing over him, Mary Lou jealous of Rose. The climax came last night at dinner when that obnoxious Dwight started going on for the millionth time about foreigners and why don’t they just do things the way we do in the States.”

She broke off as the waiter approached.

“I will have a large whisky and soda. No, wait, I’m in Greece. Make it ouzo, please. No, wait, make that two ouzos. My young friend will have one.”

“Yes, madam,” the waiter said, grinning.

“I take it that you corrected Dwight politely?” Clare said with a smile.

“Hell, no. I dumped a pitcher of water over his head and walked out. Verity has already been on the phone to my daughter who called me in hysterics because the retirement community might expel me. I can’t stay with my daughter. We love each other, but we’d fight like two cats in a sack if we tried to live together. Perhaps I'll be homeless by the time we return. Thank you.” Nancy said, as the waiter brought the drinks.

She lifted her glass of ouzo in a toast.

"Yiamas! That means cheers."

Clare sipped hers cautiously and coughed.

“It’s different.”

The waiter returned with a tray of little savories.

“Mezethes, ladies. Enjoy!”

He bowed and left.

“Well, I no longer have a roommate or a fiancé, so you’re welcome to come and stay with me,” said Clare. “Though I don’t know if you’d be a good influence or not.”

“I probably wouldn't, but we'd have fun,” Nancy said. “Seriously, what are you going to do when we get back?”

“I was studying to be a teacher, so I suppose I’ll continue,” Clare said.

“You sound underwhelmed with enthusiasm. What do you really want to do?”

Clare looked at her journal.

“Don’t laugh, but I’ve always wanted to be a writer.”

Nancy set down her glass and fixed her with a glare.

“Why should I laugh? Go for it. If it doesn’t work out, then you can teach. In my day, we weren’t encouraged to even think about what we wanted. Getting that Mrs. degree was all that counted, and I already told you how that worked out for me. I’m more fortunate than many and aware of it, but I hate that I conformed to other people’s expectations when I was young.”

Clare shut her journal and sat up straight.

“That’s very good advice. I’ll take it, on one condition.”

Nancy looked at her suspiciously.

“What condition?”

“You need to find a place to live that suits you, not your daughter or anyone else. I’m afraid you’re going to get in real trouble if you stay where you are.”

They both burst out laughing.

“Good point,” said Nancy. “After all..”

“YOLO!” said Clare.