Page 30 of Aftershock

“Wow.”

I had never been so captivated by something so strange yet so amazing. My typical flying experience consisted of being crammed next to sweaty men with kids kicking the back of my seat and a loud, obnoxious woman yelling at the flight staff. I felt so out of place here.

Lexi walked back toward me, seeing as I hadn't moved from the spot I started at. Brian then came up to her and whispered something, causing her to nod in response.

Turning to me, she briefly instructed, “You can sit in one of these.” She motioned to the four main seats and continued, “But once we are in the air, you can move around if you want. I just have to go do something real quick, but I'll be right back.”

“Thanks.”

Lexi retreated into one of the back rooms, along with Brian. Andrew sat in one of the four available seats situated on the left side of the plane, and I then took the seat closest to the window on the right side. Sitting down, I dropped my bag to the floor and kicked it under my seat to keep it out of the way as I began to fasten my seatbelt. I glanced out the window and looked back in the direction of the airport, wondering how many others were completely oblivious to the large private het right outside. I turned my head back toward my lap as I stared at the phone lying in my hands and contemplated checking the texts my mom had sent me earlier. I knew I needed to, but how could I even come close to apologizing for what I had said on the phone while talking to her earlier?

Hey, Mom, sorry I was an asshole earlier, but don’t worry, I’m on my way to the funeral. Oh yeah, and I'm taking a different plane to get there because I missed my flight AND the person I was stuck in the bathroom with earlier turned out to be a celebrity who offered me a ride on her private jet.

Yeah, that was not going to cut it.

I opened my messages as I began to read the series of texts my mom had sent.

Mom: You better be on your flight at 11!

From New York to California, it was a six-hour flight. I would land at 2:00 p.m. and my dad's funeral would be at 3:00 p.m. I had planned it that way—so I’d have just enough time to make it to his funeral but not enough time to sit with the fact that I was attending the funeral.

2 MISSED CALLS FROM MOM

Mom: I will call you all day until I know for a fact you’re on that flight!

Mom: Your dad wasn’t perfect but that doesn’t mean you get to miss his fucking funeral!

4 MISSED CALLS FROM MOM.

Mom: Autumn! ANSWER YOUR PHONE!

Mom: AUTUMN! 2 MISSED CALLS FROM MOM

Mom: Pick up the damn phone!

1 MISSED CALL FROM MOM

Mom: Please…

Mom: Can you at least text me back so I know that you’re okay?

Mom: Autumn

Mom: Are you okay?

Mom: Please come to the funeral…I can’t do this alone.

She was worried.

I hadn't spoken to her since I told her about the earthquake. What if she thought I was still stuck in the bathroom? What if she thought I was hurt? What if she thought we had another earthquake? What if she thought the building collapsed? What if she thought I was dead, just like Dad? Not only was she worried, but she was also scared. My mother, who I thought was unshakable, was actually scared to go to the funeral alone. We constantly talked about the pain I went through when Dad left, but we never talked about her pain. What if she struggled just to get out of bed each day? What if she never moved on in hopes he would return? What if she was afraid of what attending his funeral would mean? Was this my fault? Why did I insist on trying to grieve alone?

With shaking hands, I hesitantly began to type out a message.

Autumn: Mom, I’m so sorry for what I said earlier. I was letting my anger cloud my judgement and I shouldn't have yelled at you like that. The girl I was stuck in the bathroom with overheard our conversation and helped me realize that going to dad’s funeral is something I have to do…but since we were trapped for an hour, I missed my flight…now comes the crazy part…the person who I was locked in the bathroom with was…drum roll, please…

Autumn: Lexi FREAKING Harlow!

Autumn: HOW INSANE IS THAT?

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