No Time

“Can you tell me what time it is?” she asked a red-headed stranger who was leaning on a square post, waiting just like herself. It felt a bit dangerous, but she’d left her iPhone and Fitbit at home in a moment of clarity. Craziness others might call it. She’d packed her iPad just in case, and she had thought this through, it would serve her purpose of helping her find her way if needed, but then she could only speak to others through email. No instant messages to see popping up on a screen that just can’t be ignored. No phone calls she’d feel obligated to answer. They didn’t need to ask any questions. She’d explained it in a note she left on the breakfast table. She’d taken off her watch, turned off her phone and left both beside her bed.

She could see her family now, coming home from school and work in just a few hours, wondering what’s for dinner and why mom’s car wasn’t there. Teenagers ravaged with hunger, piling snacks to take to their room while surfing the day’s social media, missing her note. She would be an afterthought of course, and that burned in her belly. It was one reason she was standing here waiting to board a plane. One of many reasons.

Her husband would be home a bit later, also pondering why he didn’t smell dinner yet and asking himself what meeting she’d gone to and not remembered. They shared a calendar on their phones but he never looked at it. She had to constantly tell him what was going on that day, and sometimes he would call her from work to ask what time they had to be somewhere. She’d become the cook and the secretary and nothing more. Her purpose unknown.

“It’s 2:15,” the red-head told her. She’d planned this, so her plane would be well on its way before anyone noticed she was gone, and also so there was no going back. She couldn’t deal with the guilt of leaving any more than she could deal with the neediness that never left room for her wants and needs. You’d think it was just a balance, but it was not, and anyone who said different was fooling themselves and giving false hope to others. Don’t look back, she told herself. It was her new mantra.

She pulled her black carry-on with its magenta knit tie around the handle to the restroom, not because she had to go, but because she wanted to look in the mirror once more to see the smile of joy on her face, the crease in her brow gone now that she had made this decision. Huh, she thought, it didn’t take Olay to get rid of that scowl, just a new perspective, and maybe a new bikini and woven beach hat, rolled up and tucked between the straps of her carry-on.

She straightened her ruffled blouse and brushed her bangs aside. Did everyone going away for a tropical vacation look this happy? The anticipation made her giddy, like a child getting ready for their big birthday party. You knew it was finally here when you saw the balloons and streamers, but you didn’t know wonderful it would really be until it happened.

Exiting the door of the bathrooms she heard the boarding call for flight 1240 for the first leg of her journey to Hawaii. She’d be landing in San Francisco in a few hours and then on to the tropical island she’d dreamed of for years. She’d always anticipated her husband being beside her, a romantic trip for two perhaps on their 20^th anniversary, but that never seemed to come to fruition. Theo always had this obligation or that big account that no one else could handle. She was tired of waiting and of not feeling important to him anymore.

Was it strange to be traveling alone? She’d decided weeks ago that the answer was a definitive no. She would eat and sleep on her own time schedule, visit all the places she wanted to see, and lie on the soft sands, staring out at the turquoise water, sweet cocktail in one hand, a book in the other. If she wanted company, she’d talk to strangers. As she crossed the threshold of the plane she imagined the orchids of fuchsia and white wrapped around her neck, the sweet fragrance enveloping her head, as she was welcomed to paradise.

First class was never affordable when they flew with the kids, but this time Leah had booked it, considering she didn’t have for a second ticket for her husband. Champagne, warm cookies, leg room. It felt good to have someone thinking about her for a change, even if they were being paid to do it. The fog out the window couldn’t damper her spirits, until the pilot made an announcement that they were going to have to land at San Jose International Airport. She sighed, then quickly assessed her options. She had a connecting flight to catch in San Francisco 2 ½ hours later. Wait, make that 1 ½ hour later. They’d been circling the airport for 60 minutes waiting for clearance.

The giddiness and high spirits she’d been feeling were replaced by anxiety as she rushed down the terminal to catch a taxi. As expected, the fog was making the driving slow and she felt herself pushing on the gas pedal from the backseat, white knuckling her backpack. The rearview mirror was covered with all kinds of dangling medallions: a bull’s horn, red pepper, a silver cross with Christ, even a soft pink baby shoe. She counted the seconds as they swayed like a metronome, she willed the car to move faster. The glow from the dash said 5:27. She had less than an hour to get on that flight.

She tossed cash at the driver as he pulled to the curb and yelled thank you and ran off through the sliding doors. A silent prayer in her head, please let the security lines would be short. “Can you tell me the time?” she asked the young couple in front of her. She knew in her heart she wasn’t going to make it, but she wasn’t late until 6:14, when the flight was scheduled to leave. Leah had played this game in her head for years. Perpetually late, she told herself when she was driving, even if she had to be there in two minutes, she wasn’t late yet.

She knocked her backpack against her leg to the beat of the music and tried to take slow breaths. Inching her way to the security officers, Leah watched with frustration as people took their shoes off in slow motion, and forgetting the metal on their jewelry. They were already boarding, she knew it. She was screaming in her head and she could feel the lines forming on brow again.

She made it through security and immediately glanced up at the departures screen. 6:12. Taxiing, the lights blinked back at her as she felt like she was going through the first stage of recovery: denial. Leah walked to the gate anyway and her fears were real. She had missed it. Dragging herself to the ticket counter, the flight attendance raised her apologies and offered to help her find a room for the night. The next flight to Hawaii would leave at 9:20 in the morning.

This couldn’t be happening! A room seemed like the best option, but a drink was in order, something to calm her nerves. This had to work out for her. How could she go back back and explain herself to her family? Her thoughts drifted to them, what were they thinking right now? Surely they had seen the note and were worrying about her.

Theo was frantic with worry and looked at his phone calendar. Nothing scheduled for tonight. A trip up to the kid’s rooms confirmed that there seemed to be nothing on the schedule and they didn’t know where mom would be. He didn’t want to scare them, but he had to find out if they knew anything. He called her phone and it went straight to voicemail.

Leah was thinking of her dad, an old-fashioned on her mind. A gentleman’s drink, smooth and rich. Bourban and bitters with Marichino cherry and orange. Closing her eyes for a moment it calmed her. She would make it to Hawaii whatever she had to do. She would wait until morning, but be on a beach by noon the next day. L

Missing her flight was gnawing at Leah and she decided she would sleep on her luggage in the terminal. With her head on her carry-on she dozed on and off. Dreams of tropical islands drifting in and out, but the most vivid were her dreams of her family. They didn’t know how to contact her and she’d left that door wide open for worry. When she awoke with a start, disorientation took over and she wondered where were her soft sheets. Her next thought was calling her family to let them know she was ok. Yet she knew that it could stop her from pursuing her goal.

Leah walked to Starbucks for a red eye and bagel; the breakfast of champions! She would sip and forget about her guilt. Her plane would depart in 2 short hours. She wasn’t going to give up now. The fog had lifted, as had the fog from her brain. It was time to step into a new beginning, one that began with her.

As they crossed the Pacific, she felt a sense of peace and a new understanding of her future. She was on her way to something new.

Touchdown in Hawaii. She grabs her bag with the magenta tie, bikini inside, straw hat placed on her head. A lei is placed on her neck as she crosses the threshold into a new adventure. She’ll call her family tomorrow. Today is about her, and a sweet cocktail and sun on the beach.