Page 129 of Every Step She Takes
Mal
And I wish I was coming too7:49 a.m.
THIRTY-TWOSEATAC AIRPORTFriday, September 12, 2025
Sadie
“I can’t believe I have to endure Seattle traffic home because of you,” Vi grumbles from behind the wheel of my Subaru Forester.
I haul my bag over my shoulder and glare at her through the open passenger-side window. “Do you know how many times I’ve driven you to the airport during rush hour?” I ask from the Arrivals curb.
Vi rolls her eyes. “Once or twice, maybe.”
“And I’m driving you to the airport in two weeks for your Camino,” I remind her. Vi finally got the go-ahead from her doctor, and now she’s going on her own tour with Inez. I have a difficult time imagining Vi participating in sharing circles with any level of sincerity, but I know Inez will crack her. And I’m curious to see what version of Vi comes home afterward.
“Fine. Whatever. You’re an amazing big sister,” Vi reluctantly admits. I give her a little wave before I turn toward the revolving door into the airport. “Wait!” Vi calls from the driver’s seat, and I turn back.
“Youarean amazing big sister,” she says again, her tone serious this time. “Thank you for all the rides to the airport. And just for…everything.”
I lean through the window to see her face up close. “What is this? What’s going on? Are you dying?”
“Hardy har har,” Vi monotones, but I swear I see a tear escape her right eye. “I just want you to know that I see how much you’ve done for me my entire life. I-I hope you can do something for yourself.”
“Okay, weirdo.” I clap the door. “Love you. See you in five days.”
“Love you,” she echoes in that same strangely serious voice before she chaotically merges back into the flow of Arrivals traffic, and there is a very good chance she might actually be dying. But I’ll deal with that when I get home from Michigan.
The week I officially shuttered the doors on Live Wells Antiques, I went to Portland to stay with Ari for a few days. Given that we live only three hours apart, she’s been adamant about us becoming best friends, especially since herrealbest friend got engaged while we were doing the Camino. Ari lives in a giant house she calls “Brideshead,” with several other queer roommates, and we spent a long weekend sampling different food trucks and coffee. And when we FaceTimed Stefano together, he was shocked to learn we lived driving distance from each other.
“Are you driving distance from Michigan too?”
His first post-injury Ironman was going to be on Lake Michigan, and he begged us to come. “I really need my beautiful friends there,” he said with a well-executed pout.
Neither of us could argue with that, even if his US geography is spotty.
Vi gave me some airline miles so I could go, because I promised myself I would travel more, and while it’s not exactly on my bucket list, I’ve never seen the Great Lakes. When Rebecca heard Ari and I were going, she splurged on her own tickets and invited Ro to join us too. So the Ironman was going to be like a mini-Camino reunion, minus Vera and Inez. And minus Mal.
As I head to the security line, I think about the last time I was at SeaTac: crying into my mother’s sweater after I got off theplane from Santiago. It was only four months ago, but it feels like a lifetime.
It also feels like no time has passed at all. Those feelings—of first love and first heartbreak—still feel so fresh sometimes.
But Iamtotally over Mal. Iwillbe totally over her, someday.
Someday, I won’t feel butterflies every time I hear the ding of a WhatsApp notification. But today, in this Hudson News, is not that day. My phone buzzes, and my stomach launches into my chest, and I immediately check her message.
ARE YOU AT THE AIRPORT YET?
I grab a Bueno bar from the display by the register and snap a pic to send.YEP. JUST STOCKING UP ON AIRPLANE SNACKS.
I can see from her read receipts that she saw the photo, but she doesn’t respond, and I shove my phone back into the pocket of my jeans. I buy the candy.Someday.
Maybe it’ll happen on Lake Michigan.
“Sadie Wells. If there is a passenger named Sadie Wells here, please come see us at the gate.”
I hear the announcement when I’m still a few gates away, and I pick up the pace, almost breathless when I reach the Alaska Airlines counter. “I’m Sadie Wells. Is everything okay?”
“It’s your lucky day!” The agent smiles at me. “You’ve been upgraded to first class! I just need to print you a new boarding pass.”
