Your Flight Will Leave Soon

Renee Blossom

Your Flight Will Leave Soon

Copyright © 2019 by Renee Blossom

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

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Contents

Darcy

Galen

Darcy

Galen

Darcy

Galen

Darcy

Galen

Darcy

Galen

Darcy

Darcy

One

Darcy

People were scrambling. Bedlam. You would think a riot might start. Every traveler wanted to change to earlier flights, trying to get the heck out of Denver before they got snowed in. Darcy stood in a line, thirty bodies deep, dressed for the weather outside and feeling the heat of a packed terminal where everyone was panting for air. Close to hyperventilating, actually.

Darcy had to get on the 10:40 flight out of Denver to Madison Wisconsin and escape the rapidly accumulating snow before the airport shut down, possibly for the day.

She planned the party. It was for Lila.

Changing her ticket felt like make or break. If she didn’t get out of the airport, she wouldn’t make the party, and she would never hear the end of it. And Lila. Lila would be heartbroken.

Everyone else in the airport had the same notion, as lines were jam-packed with people trying to change their flights, possibly bribe or beg for a last minute ticket out of Denver.

Darcy was scheduled for the 12:39 p.m. flight and based on the rapidly falling snow, it looked sketchy that her plane would take off at all. Darcy swallowed hard, that feeling like she was trapped in a fishbowl washing over her.

The 10:40 might get canceled. The 12:39 might get canceled, delayed. Whatever. She had to get home. Darcy thought of herself as a reasonable, sensible person. Patient. Her smartwatch told her to Breathe. Traveling in icy weather made even the calmest people a little anxious. But she had a schedule to keep. Not helping her situation at all was that Frontier’s tickets were the least expensive and it felt like everyone else wanted the same flight as Darcy.

One person was tying up the line. Darcy wanted to ask, no, interrogate the woman at the counter, with that oversized suitcase which looked as though it had seen many flights, about what she was accomplishing by holding up the line for so long. Was she searching for the perfect seat up there? Deliberating over meal options?

Three airlines employees, each of them appearing competent. Motivated. They wore smiles and seemed to enjoy what they were doing. This was taking entirely too long.

Granted, people were cutting in at the counter to interject those ‘just a question’ type nonsense. Understandable, but it grated on everyone standing in line, who were following the rules.

Several people, who must have been traveling together, left the line abruptly, staring at their phones and Darcy felt a little joy inside at her improving odds. If only world problems could be solved by electronic means. Darcy wanted to pull out her phone and try again to change her ticket, though her request had timed out twice and she didn’t want to accidentally duplicate her request and cause other problems. Her phone was an older model, and she figured that her version probably couldn’t keep up. In her new line position, Darcy couldn’t help but overhear a conversation between two ladies immediately in front of her. One of these ladies, probably the one to her right, smelled way too sweet. Nausea-inducing. They were venting about the mess they were in, and while Darcy didn’t care to listen to their complaints, she realized that in this particular situation, it was unavoidable. They were completely oblivious about other travelers who might be looking. That and they have dressed appropriately for the tropics, not a blizzard. The young blonde, to Darcy’s left, commented about the new cute shoes she’d bought from Saks Fifth Avenue. Darcy recognized the Tory Burch logo on the blonde’s handbag (and brunette roots too) which coordinated enviably with her ensemble. A personal trainer and possibly a dietician were helping this young woman maintain the lean physique and natural glow she radiated. Her upper back and her arms had definition and gooseflesh in spades. At least she looked amazing. Still. This desirable younger woman was undoubtedly heading somewhere tropical, and by the way she spoke to the woman standing with her, this type of leisure travel was nothing new. This must be mother and daughter, going on vacation together. How lovely. Darcy had to kick jealousy to the snowy curb. Darcy pushed aside that familiar jealous pang. It was all she could do to ignore the East Coast Ladies, probably on their way to the Bahamas, though she was just dying to watch those cute shoes and summery outfit slog through the freezing parking lot after flights were canceled.

Then Darcy saw the young blonde woman’s ring; at least one Carat. Princess cut. Gorgeous platinum band. Fighting off overwhelming curiousness, Darcy had to talk herself into keeping her questions to herself. Her ring finger felt all the more, and her head spun, feeling overwhelmed by grief as memories returned like a sudden stiff breeze.

The woman traveling with the blonde, looking very much like an aged version of the younger beauty, with an all grey shock she kept stereotypically short, overdressed as though she were going to a ritzy party, commented about what a mistake it was to save a ‘couple hundred dollars’ by purchasing the flight with stops instead a proper ‘non-stop’ direct choice.

Darcy cringed, acknowledging she made the same mistake, but the money was considerable savings to her. Apparently not for these ladies. Whatever. Darcy tried to distract herself, but she couldn’t help hearing them, among other snippets of people’s conversations around her and that made her feel alone.

Standing in line, going nowhere, all Darcy could think about was every little detail, everything that still had to be bought because she couldn’t get her mother to do anything because the woman would argue that it wasn’t the ‘right thing’, because, after all, this was her first grandchild and by golly, it had to be a celebration fit for a queen. But her mother would have nothing to do with the actual planning or pay for any of it. And the party was in Darcy’s hometown, in Wisconsin.

All for Lila’s baby shower. Darcy absolutely had to plan her sister’s shower, for the first baby to the family, the first grandchild to their mother. And at the same time, she got stuck planning it. It’s complicated.

Her confession to friends and coworkers who asked about why she seemed so stressed all the time while craving chocolate and denying herself because of her restrictive diet had been that in a nutshell. Now, because of her own frugalness, she might miss the party she nearly killed herself getting pulled together.

The anxiety she felt in her chest was nearly unbearable. She couldn’t stop thinking about the party and her sister and her mother’s expectations and all the decorations she had to put up which she had no clue how to use and she immediately regretting putting little things off, as though she could have avoided such last minute details when planning the event from Dallas. She had delegated most things, but she didn’t have control. Frozen babies. Face matching. Diaper messages. Maybe if everyone got just a glass and a half of wine buzz before games started, perhaps they would earn big laughs. Whatever. Marcella wanted a more formal, uptight event for her friends she invited to show off to, fun be damned. Marcella didn’t care if people had fun, she cared if they were impressed.

Lila, Darcy’s sister and mom to be, was obsessed with a complete nursery set, which Elnora, Lila’s mother in law, swore she would bring to the party and, over and over, for a big reveal so Lila could get all weepy for friends and family. The thing was, Lila didn’t have an exceptional relationship with Elnora. Not even slightly. So the turn of events had been a shock to Darcy that Elnora of all people would offer such a generous gift and the sudden heart change made Darcy wonder what had happened between them but was afraid to ask Lila about it on the chance she might spoil a big surprise from a least expected source. Perhaps this was a move by Elnora to plant some seeds of goodwill before a grandchild came. She had read that grandparenting could dish out some seriously competitive shit, and Elnora was just the sort to throw down the first spade. Draw blood at first opportunity. Solidify herself as the favorite grandma. Either way, the nursery furniture Lila had picked was way the hell out of the budget, and no one had the heart (or ability) to talk her down. Darcy knew it was vital to her very pregnant sister to get that settled as soon as possible.

The baby shower getting pushed back to May 9th was an issue. Someone had suggested pushing the shower back another weekend, only to be abruptly shot down.

This little bundle was possibly the only one to come, considering the challenges Lila had during her third trimester. And Darcy, pushing thirty years old herself, felt like her baby prospects were dwindling.

Darcy cringed, watching snow fall and the big television while trying to tune out the lovely blonde unsuccessfully. Darcy nicknamed the woman East Coast Blonde. Her impossible to miss gorgeous engagement ring kept flashing at Darcy while the woman bantered about wedding arrangements as though it were a burden. Darcy coached herself that she had set everything up just right for her homecoming and baby shower trip, save for her one big mistake. A connecting flight in Denver.

All the consistent chatter among travelers about de-icing the wings increased her discomfort. As the clock hit 10:00 a.m. Darcy started to panic inside. Seriously panic. No one knew if any flight would follow its schedule. So even if she did get her miracle, she reasoned, she might end up stuck in a plane that doesn’t take off. If she didn’t get her ticket changed, then she had two hours until her flight boarded. Considering the snow, that boarding may not happen until tomorrow, hours after the party had ended.

Thinking that way induced panic.

She couldn’t wait for the party to start and she was really looking forward to putting it behind her. Then there was the inevitable family homecoming gatherings and the questions she wasn’t sure how to answer, ever since her terrible split with Tyler. Pity from friends sounded like a failure in a pretty box, wrapping paper, and a bow.

Darcy and Tyler were high school sweethearts, moving from Wisconsin to Texas for college on his intuition.

Hope felt fragile, like snowflakes. Ironic, of course. Her life felt like it had been on pause since Tyler disappeared from her life four months earlier.

Everything about their split was terrible, and she hadn’t spoken with him since. Each passing day was another paper square into the wastebasket. Her life wasting away. She had tried and tried to reconcile. Certainly, they could not pick up where they left off. That past was gone. That was the old them. Before and After. As her monumental thirtieth birthday marched closer, her inner critic grew increasingly louder and bolder, repeating lies she enjoyed believing.

When Tyler got a job offer in Dallas, the transition into an apartment of their own seemed logical and natural. Everyone expected they would get married. That was the thing. After they got engaged, their friends had said ‘it’s about time’ and things like that, jokingly, but Darcy was so overjoyed to move forward in her life that she paid attention to little else. Darcy and Tyler were an item since they were sixteen.

How ironic, it occurred to Darcy, and she managed to amuse herself however briefly by watching other travelers, especially kids. There had been this baby, in a stroller who was just adorable in her sleep, holding a blanket, pacifier in her mouth and a slow, gentle suck on that Plastic of Peace, as her childhood friend Monica referred to those little wonders of science and art, toted by her fashionable father. Darcy found herself both yearning and heartbroken all over again, watching the little girl sleep and the arms who carried her. And while she instructed herself to put the past out of her mind, she could not. She wasn’t there yet, her grief counselor had explained, but remained optimistic as though Darcy’s desires would dissipate into thin air.

Darcy had seen a nature show once at three in the morning, in which a mother bird had returned to her nest to incubate on her egg. What the viewer knew, and mother bird soon discovered, was that a predator had come along to eat her unborn young while she had been away. The broken, oozing shell was not enough to stop her. The mother’s desire to incubate was too strong to resist.

Darcy had cried for an hour after watching that, then spent an hour running at the gym to help herself forget, but that visceral feeling wedged itself into her heart.

East Coast Ladies switched topics to how horrible traffic was at home. From the sound of it, they must be from New York. Maybe Jersey. Darcy was losing her mind, listening to them. Officially. Feet at a standstill, her bag propped against her ankle. She would read if she could tune out the noise. She could kill for good company.

More people cut in line. She could overhear them, sort of. Darcy blushed, thinking about what she wanted to shout at them. Naming them Interruptors had a fitting feel to it. The interruptors weren’t distinctly young travelers or mature travelers or people with kids, though she could understand if the airlines wanted to make an exclusive line for disabled people or veterans. She had been told, on several occasions, that she was good at naming things; perhaps a cop-out from her boss who put that task on Darcy’s lap at every opportunity.

Best to stay quiet. Stand in line. Listen. Hold onto hope.

Darcy felt like sitting would be equivalent to quitting. Throw on some sweatpants and loaf. Darcy dreaded the guilt associated with having a seat when so many travelers were forced to stand, especially kids, though many of them were content with a smartphone and sitting on the floor. One little girl, a mop of auburn hair, rested on her father’s shoulder, fidgeting to get comfortable enough to sleep while her parent stood perfectly still, staring at the board in disbelief. The look on the man’s face reminded her of Tyler and Darcy was frustrated with herself.

10:10 FLIGHT 763 changed status: NOW BOARDING.

Hope surged and plunged. She might get out of Denver before the snow got worse. Just maybe.

Sweat trickled down her back, but Darcy wore her blue coat unzipped just because she didn’t want more to carry and she didn’t want to chance forgetting it somehow. At least she was comfy. Her tights and tunic were fitted and breathable. She told herself how lucky she was that her luggage had wheels.

Darcy’s line hadn’t moved a single step unless you counted people getting out of line as forward progress. It was, but the same woman was at the counter, debating with the airline’s employee who maintained a smile on her face, so they must have been having some sort of real chummy conversation while humanity could only watch and wait.

Darcy watched as people boarded the plane. Tickets scanning. Line getting longer at the gate. They had tickets. Darcy would gladly take any seat on that plane. Any seat. Even the back of the aircraft where you had to listen to the flight attendants the entire flight, banging things around in that drink cart, which always hit you on leaving, no matter how well you hid your arms.

Then it hit. A flash crash.

Darcy shared a collective gasp with the masses, as the board changed. It felt as though the world had transformed, confirming their worst fears.

DELAYED. Every flight turned red. Collective groans. Sighs. F-bombs, neglecting the family-friendly approach. Some quit breathing. Bedlam ensued.