Page 20 of Between Hope & Tragedy

(Tuesday)

I was driving to the airport with all of my bags in the backseat of the rental a week and a half ahead of schedule, because I knew that it was definitely time to go home. I had decided to stop by Rockford High and leave a copy of Scott's letter with Garrett's secretary on my way toward LAX. It cost me a fortune to switch the tickets around, but I didn't want to be in Los Angeles anymore. This really was the one place that seemed to continually break me the longer I stayed.

I knew I would never have another reason to come back to this place, and it made me feel a little less broken. As I pulled onto the highway I decided to turn on the local rock station. I needed noise to fill the short drive to LAX, or else my own thoughts would consume me and it would drive me crazy. In my heart Iknew I wouldn't have time for torturous thoughts; not now at least. That would have to wait until I got home.

I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel to the beat of the music and glanced up to see the LAX signs starting to appear. I sighed and glanced at the letters, then raised the volume of the radio and gripped the steering wheel so tightly that my knuckles were starting to turn white.

Easy, Zaydee,I told myself.Deep breaths will keep the path clear and you need to see now more than ever.

Three more miles and the highway opened into the huge airport parking lot. I drove past all of the airlines that were sectioned off for easy arrival and departures, and went straight toward the garage I had gotten the rental from. I wasn't exactly sure where I was going to leave it, but I figured as long as it was close to where I got it from then it should be okay.

I pulled into an empty spot on the third level and reached over for the stack of letters. I glanced in the backseat and reached for my carry-on bag, so I could put the envelopes in it. I didn't want to lose any of them, because they would be the best way to explain everything that I was going to do. Forcing a smile onto my face, I dragged my luggage behind me as I walked over to the rental car attendant in the small booth he was sitting in.

"One moment while I look the car over, please," he said pleasantly, walking past me with a clipboard in his hand.

I waited, the envelopes boring a hole through my bag and onto my hip, while he looked over the truck with a fine-tooth comb. When he was satisfied that no damage had been done to it, he had me sign the clipboard attesting to that fact, then let me go on my way.

I glanced at the clock mounted in his small booth and realized that if I didn’t get a move on, I would most likely miss my plane. All of the damn daydreaming in the car had made me lose time, and I hadn’t realized it until now.

I hoisted my baggage onto my back and ran down the stairs as quickly as I could, readjusting them when I reached the ground level. I knew that airport security wouldn’t be too excited about me running through the airport, so I decided to power-walk my way to security after asking a guard where my gate would be.

I went through the same scrutinization I always did when I handed someone my identification before I was able to get through security. I knew I would have to pay extra at the gate for my bags, but I didn’t care. I just wanted to get the fuck out of California and go home.

The lounge area was damn near packed by the time I got there, and I ended up sitting next to a man who seemed engrossed with his cell phone. I dropped my bags in front of the chair and fell into the seat, a relieved sigh escaping me before I glanced over at his phone.

My curiosity was soon satisfied when I saw that he had been texting someone named Jim, and the last text message received from him made me roll my eyes. Apparently, the man next to me was being told about a strip bar where all of the strippers had ‘huge tits’” and would most likely let them do lines of cocaine off of them once he got to Miami.

This is gonna be a long flight,I thought with another deep sigh as I closed my eyes and waited for the flight attendant to start calling rows.

(Wednesday)

It had just been my luck to have the seat next to the man with thehugeplans once he got to his destination and I forced myself to sleep for the entire flight. Once I landed in Orlando International Airport though, I felt a sense of relief wash over me like a typhoon. I was happy to be back in a place where there was no heartbreak and no one would be able to give me any more shitty news. I was back in a place where things made sense, and no matter how bad things seemed, a bowl of ice cream, and a chick flick session would fix it all.

I went outside and waited in the valet line after retrieving my luggage from the baggage area. Ten minutes after handing my ticket to the same young man that I had generously tipped to keep my baby safe, he pulled around in my car. I threw my bagsinto the backseat and gave the car the once over, before handing him an extra one hundred dollar bill for a job well done.

Two hours later I was pulling into my driveway. I was finally home and I had zero plans on ever leaving again. I didn’t care who died at this point; I had made it to the most important funeral I would ever have to go to, and that was enough for me.

After fidgeting with the locks on the front of my door, I stepped in and looked around happily. I let the bags drop on the side of the couch before I closed the door behind me and locked it firmly into place. I hadn't made it very far into the actual house when there was a knock on the door. With an eye roll and a groan, I turned around and went back to the door and pulled it open.

"Yes?" I asked the man who was standing in front of me, holding a flower arrangement.

"Ms. Lansing?" I nodded. "These are for you. I just need you to sign here, please," he said, placing the arrangement down and holding out a clipboard. I signed where he indicated and then took the arrangement from him.

"Have a good day, Miss!" he called out as he walked back down toward his waiting van.

I took the flowers straight into the kitchen and sat them down on the island. Not very many people knew where I lived now, and I was curious as to who would have sent them. Grabbing the card that had been attached, I flipped open the little envelope and smiled. I went back into the living room and fetched my cell phone, dropping down onto the couch and stretching my legs out, as I dialed. Three rings later and I was greeted by a familiar voice.

"Hey, Darlin'," he said happily.

"You've been living in Oklahoma for way too long," I replied with a laugh.

My cousin returned my laugh good-naturedly, "What's up, Zee?"

"I just got your flowers and I wanted to say thank you," I said.

"No problem. I told them to keep going back with them until you opened that damn door. It sucks about Frances; did you end up going back home?" he asked. I heard a dog barking in the background followed by a quiet shushing.

"Yeah; you didn't miss anything. Mom was a mess, Dad was trying to win the Father of the Year award, and Uncle Bill and Aunt Rose were part of the great family conspiracy," I replied dryly.

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