Page 2 of Flying

“Okay, well, I gotta go, but we better talk. Soon.” She hurries off the call before I can accidentally ruin any secrets.

A university bus, clearly done for the day and empty of the usual caffeine-riddled twenty-somethings nearly takes off my right side-view mirror. “Welcome back to Central Jersey, babe,” I mutter to myself, causing Pete to tilt his head in confusion at me. “Welcome to you, too, little pup,” I add, giving him another pat on his hind.

The image you have of New Jersey is probably completely wrong compared to where I am talking about. This isn’t the crowded shorehouses or the industrial airport. Central Jersey is a unique landscape of farms and sprawling fields of grass. Dueling suburbs of New York and Philadelphia where neighbors root for either city's team or argue if it is called Taylor Ham or pork roll, as they order the same breakfast sandwich using different names. There’s something comforting about being home, despite the deep anxiety pulsing in my ears. All that being said, I’ve accepted my fate: there is no way I’m entering Peacock Springs as anything but a sweaty, anxious mess.

two

River

At That Same Time

“We’re all set,dude, don’t stress.” I clap a hand on Lee’s shoulder attempting to provide some reassurance despite knowing he’s still going to stress. At least I assume you’re always stressed before proposing, not that I have ever gotten close. Hell, I haven’t been with someone half as long as he and Stef have been together.

“Easy for you to say,” he replies, shaking out his sandy blond hair. It hangs a bit longer than usual. From his clean shaven chiseled jawline to the hint of trouble in his bright blue eyes, he looks like the quarterback type. “Once she says yes, George River Hendrix, best bartender in town with one bar, will you be best man with her brother? I’m not sure how often we’ll see Mateo before the wedding.”

“I’m honored, of course.” I smile wide burying my anxieties about being the best man in another wedding. The last time I was a best man was for Lily Long and my former friend Grant Morgan.

As we hug, he says the last thing I expect to hear, like he’s reading my thoughts or something. “Did Delia tell you? I’m at 70/30 odds that Lily Long makes her first appearance in Peacock Springs since high school.” Clapping my shoulder and mimicking my previous reassurance, “We’re all set, like you said, nothing to stress over.”

My stomach does a somersault, as I step back and turn away. I regain composure while grabbing a bag from the kitchen window. Shoving the to-go order marked Carter into Lee’s hands, “Go home, feed Stef, I’ll walk you out.”

She might come back,my mind shrieks. Those familiar pangs of longing warring with self loathing flood my system. I should have stopped the wedding, this is my fault.

“Go, get out of here. I need to check that we have the AC on.” I gesture for him to head towards the door. Watching his gaze drift to the moving fans and blowing vents; thankful he’s ignoring my lie.

Lily Long will be here, my mind continues to scream as my entire body burns up.

three

Lily

Later That Night

My stomach is rumblingand there’s not much time before I know the roads will turn into mostly fields and scattered farms for miles. The opportunity to eat and delay my arrival is highly appealing, so I pull off the highway at a 24-hour diner. Gosh I’ve missed these. Scooping up Pete, we walk over to the front door together where a uniformed woman who has likely been here for the last forty years glares at me.

“Do you have pet friendly seating?” I pray the hostess will say yes.

“Back patio, can you walk around though? Health codes don’t allow non-service dogs here,” she mutters, not bothering to glance at his bright red harness vest with Emotional Service Animal patches embroidered on it.

I don’t argue and walk around. Pete may have patches as a service dog, but the influencer I got him from purchased them before she even had him.

A perk of being on the go is that I regularly meet and work with amazing women-owned brands in the wellness space. Unfortunately, it also means that sometimes I work with women like Raven. The influencer who booked a trip for a bunch of us and got a purebredShiba Inu from Japan for content and then promptly dismissed him on the tarmac at LAX when he was more attached to me at the end of the trip. Probably helps that I kept sneaking him the sushi I didn’t like under the table.

Meeting the hostess out back, I watch the commotion of food service and notice how it moves like a dance. A waiter brings me water, one glass and one bowl, before giving me a heads up that he’ll be right back. Opening the large laminated menu, it’s tall and thin, the pages reflecting light from the sun dipping overhead. When he gets back over to the section, I grab the waiter's attention.

“Disco fries, please? When you have a moment. And any chance you can grill up a burger for the dog? Just the burger patty, nothing else needed for him.” I ask full of hope that the greasy fries smothered in gravy and melted cheese will be a balm on my nerves. Or at least cause me to remember something happier about my home state.

The man jots down my request using fast strokes of a clicky pen, before dropping both in his apron pocket. Winking, he promises to let me know if he can’t get the food for Pete. After a few minutes he returns with my fries, emanating steam, and a small plate with a single burger patty on it.

“That going to be it tonight, miss?” He’s now leaned over the back of an extra chair.

“Probably not, but I can’t decide. Can I just hold onto this for now?” I ask, glancing at the menu still open to breakfast foods.

“This is America, you can have anything you want,” he cajoles and I laugh reflexively. This is nice, a little bit of a fun uncle vibe. After the waiter departs, I start to imagine what people at the other tables are discussing. There’s a pair of high schoolers who are probably on a date. I overhear them discussing the start of senior year, college applications, and how this is going to be the best year ever with his brand new car. The conversation continues after plates are cleared, and my suspicion is confirmed as they begin holding hands across the table while making intense eye contact. They remind me so much of who I was the last time I was home; young and in love. Excited about the future I was dreaming up together with my ex-husband Grant Morgan.

Part of me wants to run over and warn her to not turn out likeme. That would be too impulsive and outgoing, even for me. I continue to hold the conversation in my head, what would I do if I was meeting me at that age? They always warn you in time loop movies not to mess with the future, but I think I would say something to my younger self.Run girl, you are in danger. Also, start wearing sunscreen immediately, your face will change.If I did that, would I even have listened?

I like to hope so, but the reality is I am only who I am today because Grant cheated during the first year of our marriage.

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