Page 7 of Only for the Week
“Ah, not a fan of planes then. My dad is the same way. He refuses to go on any vacation where he can’t drive, take a bus, or train.”
“I guess it’s safe to say he won’t be coming to this then.”
“Absolutely not. He told Arnold not to even waste an invite on him. Him and my mom are gonna stay home and watch my nephew when my brother gets here next week so it worked out.”
“So, how’s your mom feel about your dad’s international travel ban?”
He chuckles. “She couldn’t care less. She travels with her friends and sisters and leaves his ass at home whenever the mood strikes. She told him if she fucks around and finds an international side piece, he’ll have no one to blame but himself.”
“Your mom sounds like my kind of woman.”
“I think so too. She would’ve loved how you obliterated ol’ boy.”
I put my hand to my chest then throw my hand out. “Why, thank you. That was light work.”
“I could tell. Remind me not to get on your bad side.”
“What would be the fun in that?” I tilt my head to the side in question and he playfully rolls his eyes.
The plane starts its descent down the runway, calling my gaze to the window. I watch with rapt attention as the wheels lift off the ground and the runway becomes smaller and smaller until there’s nothing in sight but clouds.
When I peek back over at Rome, he’s watching me intently. Was he speaking? “Sorry, I love to watch planes take off.”
“It’s no problem. What do you love about it?”
No one’s ever asked me that before. I feel like there are two kinds of people: window-seat people and aisle-seat people. Let’s face it, no one willingly chooses the middle seat, but no one really asks why each group prefers one over the other. It just is what it is.
“There’s a freedom in literally watching your problems disappear beneath you. In giving someone else the control to carry you away from reality for a while. Does that sound stupid?” I hold on to the tethers of my control so vehemently that it’s liberating when I have no choice but to give it up. The very thing that terrifies Evie about flying exhilarates me.
He shakes his head earnestly. “Not at all. It actually makes perfect sense.” A sense of appreciation washes over me at his affirmation. “So, why aren’t you sitting in the window seat?”
“I always let Evie sit in the window seat, so her head doesn’t bobble around when she passes out.”
I expect Rome to laugh with me at my comment, but he doesn’t. He leans back in his seat, seemingly mulling over my words, picking them apart and chewing each one piece by piece, and the look he gives me when he refocuses tells me he doesn’t like their taste.
“Do you make it a habit to sacrifice things that make you happy for others’ comfort?”
I bristle at that. His words slice through my defenses faster than I can build them back up, leaving me speechless. Trying to buy myself some time to come up with anything to say, I force out a cough. I can’t decide if I’m more offended because he doesn’t know me or because he sees too much.
“It’s not like that. It’s just not a big deal because I can still see out the window. You’ve never compromised for someone you care about?”
“Of course. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to come off like I was judging you. I just think sometimes we lose ourselves in our compromises and forget that ‘no’ is a full sentence.” He clears his throat.
The rest of the plane falls away as silence stews within our bubble, simmering into acceptance and understanding.
“Got it. So, when the flight attendant comes around for drink orders, I’ll get both the tequila and white wine instead of compromising down to one,” I quip, needing some levity to break up the intensity of this interaction.
He seems to appreciate the moment coming to an end and laughs along with me. We switch to much lighter topics and before I know it, the pilot chimes in over the speaker to announce our arrival in Cancun.
“Damn, that plane ride flew by,” he says as he stretches his arms out. “Are you gonna watch the plane land?”
My lips split into a wide grin. “I sure am. There’s a method to my madness. I always watch the takeoff from home and the landing at my destination, but not vice versa.”
“Because the landing at your destination means you’ve reached your safe haven away from whatever plagues you at home. Takeoff from your vacation spot symbolizes the end of peace and landing at home means watching your problems take center stage again.”
Well shit.
“Exactly. You get it.”
