The Hometown Reconnection Flight

Angela gazed out of the window in the plane, looking through the misty clouds at the city lights that were starting to appear. Removing the neck pillow from behind her, she wryfully noted that she barely slept at all on the flight even though she was running on zero hours of sleep from the night before worrying about this very flight. 

It wasn’t really the flight that was causing her stomach to twist, no - it was her return to the hometown that she fled over a decade ago. Every year, when December first would come around, her father would send her an email - attempting to convince  her into coming home for the holidays. And every time, she would make up a new excuse, a new reason why she could not come home. Was that even home anymore?

“Passengers. Please return to your seats and put in your seatbelts. We are about to begin our final descent.” 

Angela felt her heart constrict. It was happening.

No more excuses. 

She was coming home. The email that her father had sent this time, like clockwork, on December first this time was different. Rio was dying. He wanted to know if she wanted to come home to say goodbye. “Of course I want to say goodbye.” She thought and whispered as she replayed in her head how she felt reading the email. 

“Sorry?” the passenger in the aisle, a petite older lady who was in the middle of pulling her seat into the upright position, turned to ask her. 

I sure didn’t mean to say that out loud, Angela cursed internally. She gave the fellow passenger a smile instead. “I’m sorry. The whole flight and landing on a plane, I get nervous.” 

The older lady nodded in understanding and resumed adjusting her seat while Angela let out a long exhale. Get yourself together, Angela. She felt the plane shift abruptly as it began the steps to begin its landing protocol. Angela could feel the pressure building up in her ears, so she closed her eyes - hoping that would ease some of the pressure. Her stomach continued to flutter with anxiety of the impending action of officially coming home to a town that she cursed as she left it.

Some would say that a pet is just a pet. A cat is just a cat, but Rio was different. Now 20 years old, 100 years old in cat years, Rio was one of the only remaining living witnesses to the girl what she was in the before-times. Before she left to New York City to pursue big city dreams, to reinvent herself completely - to forget all of the pain that the past has caused. But she still remembered the day that her mother came home with Rio on her shoulder, his tiny claws holding him to her mom’s sweater. She had to be barely 17 then. She had left home unceremoniously after college, not even staying for the graduation ceremony. It was a miracle that I was even able to graduate - Angela thought.

The feeling of the plane’s tires touching down on the pavement shook Angela out of her reverie, dropping her back into the present time - the present story that she was living out. The plane continued down the runway, some passengers clapping at the fact that the landing was rather smooth and turbulence free. Angela could feel her ears pop just as the plane was being taxied in so that the passengers could dis-board. She could hear the stewardess on the speaker deliver a message about coming home, but she barely caught it. Busy putting on her scarf, she barely heard the voice behind her.

“Angela? Is that you?” 

“What?” startled that she heard her name, she stood up from her seat quickly and hit the top of her head on the cabin that was holding the luggage. “Ugh oh my gosh.” Rubbing the top of her head, she also struggled to untangle her thick dark hair from the tangle of what it had become from the way she was sitting; and attempting (unsuccessfully) to sleep on the flight.

“That is you, Angela.”

The voice had returned from the aisle behind her, and so finally she turned to come face to face with her college sweetheart. The home-town football star who broke her heart into a million pieces. It was one, but not all, of the factors behind leaving her hometown behind her to start fresh in the big city. 

“Bryan,” Angela said softly, barely loud enough that she could hear herself. The next part she said louder, feeling like she had the wind knocked out of her. “Coming home too?”

“Every year,” Bryan smiled, lighting up his whole still-handsome face. “You look amazing.”

Angela felt her face go red. Ugh I am so lame. She thought. “Thank you.” Was all she could get out. “So do you.” So lame, Angela. 

To be fair, Bryan did still look amazing from her crouched vantage point at her seat on the aircraft. People were now starting to make their way to the exit. It was at this point that she noticed that the petite older lady in her aisle was already gone. Angel made her way to the aisle to go and get her carry on bag from the upper cabin. Bryan was already there, his broad chest at Angela’s eye line as he reached out to pull down her chrome pink carry on luggage. “Just a hunch this one was yours,” was all he said as he hoisted down the carry on.

“Thanks,” Angela stammered out. She could feel him behind her, pulling down his own carry-on luggage from the top cabin. As she walked forward, rolling the carry on behind her, she heard him ask:

“I haven’t ever seen you around at home, Angela. Not since… “ he let the last sentiment hang in the air between them. 

Angela paused in her walk. “Not since you dumped me?” When I needed you most.

“Come on Angela,” she felt Bryan place his hand on her left shoulder to try and turn her so she could face him in the narrow aero plane aisle.

Angels obliged turning to face her former lover, friend and whom she thought would always be there for her - no matter what. “There is nothing for me here anymore. You should know that better than most.” 

“Angela - you know it was way more complicated than that,” Bryan returned, letting her shoulder go once he saw the icy look in her blue eyes.

“Yes, it was,” Angela relented. It was true. There was much more than a breakup that caused her to leave everything behind to remake herself anew. She had made some mistakes herself, she would even admit that perhaps she deserved to be dumped - it was almost as if she had asked for it. She did. He was never supposed to actually listen to that. 

Hurt people, hurt people. Angela thought, remembering the past that was now staring her acutely in the face. Angela now noticed that nearly all the passengers had now exited the plane, save for her and Bryan. She didn’t know why she said what she said next but ultimately felt compelled to.

“Rio’s dying.”

The shock of that admission hit Bryan’s eyes. Rio and Bryan had quite the bond when they were dating. Chasing each other up and down the staircase, sleeping on his chest when they would have movie nights on the couch, and even the first time they had met - when Rio sized Bryan up as a suitable match for his mistress. 

“I’m sorry, Angela. He’s a good cat.” 

With that he opened up his arms. Angela had already moved up a few paces with her roll on carry-on luggage behind her - but she FELT him open up his arms behind her. 

Suddenly the past years fell away, the pain for the past. For a moment she forgot that this was her ex. She turned around and nearly fell into the open arms. Into a hug. A hug so familiar and warm - she pushed her face up into his chest for a moment - just a moment.

It was like coming home.