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An hour later, Max was buying Imodium, Pepto Bismol, and Tums at the gift shop when he heard a commotion and turned around, only to see Outfield run past the shop.
“Where’s that moron going?” the clerk said bluntly – and Max grinned.
“That’s my moron,” he retorted, handing over his debit card as his intestines rumbled once again. “Our flight is boarding in a few minutes.”
Paying, he walked out of the shop and saw Outfield standing there, looking at his cell phone and texting someone. The man looked up at him and Max nodded in understanding. Outfield looked as miserable as he felt.
Now boarding flight 1722 for Kabul, Afghanistan at Gate 17
Neither said a word, immediately heading for the gate. He wanted to text Elana, but his stomach was churning so badly right now. They took their seats on the plane, and Max immediately plucked the bag out of the back of the seat in front of him.
“Say ‘Hi’,” Outfield instructed and Max rolled his eyes, looking at the camera. He reaaaally didn’t feel like getting chummy right now. He wanted the nausea to fade. He wanted his wife and desperately wished he knew what to say right now to make her laugh. It was hard to deliver a joke on a text message – especially when you couldn’t see the other person’s reaction.
“So spill it,” Max said bluntly on the plane, clutching a vomit bag in his hands. Ohhhh man, he was going to hurl – badly. The stress of leaving Elana, the fear beating at him that he was making a terrible mistake, and the sensation that he needed to get off the plane to go find her was almost overwhelming, and he couldn’t.
He had to report for duty at seven tomorrow morning.
“I met her at the bonfire at Flyboys,” Outfield began a few minutes later as Max breathed in the bag, trying to calm down. He heard the other man laugh and was tempted to vomit in his lap if he was laughing at him, only to feel the plane lurch away from the gate – and with it, his stomach. “I never planned on any of this, but she looked at me and asked me to dance with her… and I was a goner.”
“I get it,” he breathed, trying to keep his breakfast down.
“What about you?”
“I can’t talk about it yet,” Max whispered, closing his eyes as he realized he was losing the fight, fast… and then buried his face in the bag, breathing heavily. “I’m a freakin’ pilot, and we haven’t even gotten off the ground yet – and here I am, about to yack up my entrails.”
“Stress.”
“Oh, ya’ think?” Max retorted sharply – and then glanced at Outfield sitting there, looking much calmer than him except for the red-rimmed eyes. Apparently, the other man was overwhelmed and boohooing, too. Now, I don’t feel so bad, he thought. “Do you think they would serve alcohol this early in the morning if they were told we are kind of stuck on Afghani time zones?”
“Nope.”
Feeling the plane come to a stop before the engines surged, he realized it was prepping for takeoff. He was leaving Elana behind.
Max cursed into the vomit bag, only making it sound a little more muffled. He closed his eyes, breathing heavily as the bag flexed and moved with each breath. “I’m gonna need another bag…”
Outfield immediately began moving beside him – almost in a panic.
“Outfield…” Max gasped painfully, feeling the spasm that was a tell-tale sign. “Please don’t tell anyone about this. I don’t handle stress well and…”
“You are a fighter pilot, dude!”
“Hush…” he heaved only seconds before he vomited in the bag.
“Mommy! That weird man is getting sick over there…” came a high-pitched voice as Max groaned in awareness. Of course, there was a kid nearby pointing out his delicate tummy. Fantastic. Outfield handed him another ‘gag-bag’ as Max nodded weakly and leaned into the new bag.
“Ughhhh… I think I’m dying.”
“Don’t say that,” Outfield whispered, trying to calm him down. “You’re going to be okay, buddy.”
“I don’t know what to do…” Max turned and looked at him, whispering openly as a tear ran down his cheek. “I mean, I’ve been through some rough times in my life and seen some stuff that would make your head spin – but nothing has ever hit me this hard.”
“What do you mean?”
“I love her,” Max admitted brokenly, letting out a shaky, terrified laugh. “But I don’t think she loves me. I’ve seen what a broken home can do to people, and I don’t know why she married me – but she did.”
“There must have been a reason.”
“She’s smart, Outfield,” he whispered openly and laughed again, rolling his eyes before he put the barf bag back up to his mouth. “Oh gosh, she’s so incredibly smart. I married ‘up’… and she’s gonna take me to the cleaners when this is all over.”
