We arrive sooner than expected. From 100 to 95, I checked my
email on my iPhone 5, then Facebook as we got on 495. By 66 I was staring out
the window. The girls sat up front, chatting. Ellen would occasionally look
back at me to see if I had been paying attention to some remark that was made.
I keep from embarrassing myself most of the time by not asking what, smiling
instead as if I couldn’t help but agree. At the terminal, Erika hugs us both
then drives off.
The steel counters and columns reinforce the mechanical process
of boarding our flight. Most of the people I say hello to give only one-word
responses. Some do nothing at all. Ellen and I stay close. She asks if I have
my boarding pass before and after every security check until we’re on the plane.
I’d be mad, but I can’t blame her. Before checking our bags, I admit to losing
the identification tag she had made for me the day before. I don’t tell her I
remember having it in my hand before leaving Erika’s. Eventually I find it in
my wallet when buying a cup of coffee near the gate.
I text message Erika to see if she made it home all right
moments before boarding. She went to a Starbucks near her place to get some
work done, not wanting to wake Hunter again.
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