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What do I do?
What do I?—
An idea came to me. But first, I needed to confirm things with Aubrey, so I pulled up the last text I’d sent her and began to type.
Me
So, question. I’m planning things out in my head, and I want to just confirm that you’re definitely coming back to work in a month? And you won’t be extending your maternity leave?
Aubrey
Girl, are you kidding? I’m starving for some adult interaction. I’d do anything to have a conversation with someone who actually talked back rather than just spit up all over me. Yes, I’m coming back. I’m counting down the days.
Me
Ha! That’s what I thought—the return, I mean.
Aubrey
Are you back from LA?
Me
Landing soon.
Aubrey
Do you want to come over tonight for wine? We can gossip about all things Daltons and Spades. ;)
Even though I trusted Aubrey—knowing whatever I told her, she would never speak about it to anyone—I didn’t know if I would open up about Brady. There was really nothing to say about him. The two of us could never lead to anything. So, what would be the point in discussing a past that would only reinforce all the why?
Still, the only thing I had to return to in LA was a hotel room. On the eighth floor. With an AC that kept the space so cold, despite what temperature I set it to, that all I did was shiver all night. Conversation and company were things I welcomed when it was dark, late, and extremely lonely in there.
Me
I’ll see you at 7.
Aubrey
Stocking up on red and white—don’t bring a thing. I CANNOT wait.
Me
Same!
I placed my phone back in my apron and watched Brady as he spoke to Dominick, the two in their own world. A conversation that continued as the plane landed.
I unstrapped my belt and made my way down the aisle, feeling Brady’s eyes on my back as I passed his seat. I checked in with the pilots, making sure everything was all right up front, and waited until it was time to open the cabin door. Airport personnel was waiting for us on the tarmac, placing the steps on the ground, and I rushed down them to position the red carpet. Two SUVs were parked nearby, the gentlemen’s transportation, and the drivers were standing outside the doors to the backseat.
Just a few more minutes, and this would be over.
When I entered the plane, the passengers were getting up from their seats, gathering their personal items, and I thanked each one before they made their way down the steps. I wasn’t surprised that Brady was the last in line. I’d expected him to lag. But what that did was give me a chance to get my thoughts straight, to prepare the words I needed to say.
So, when he approached, I was ready.
Except I wasn’t.
Because as we stood face-to-face, we were alone on the plane—the pilots at the bottom of the stairs, waiting for Brady to disembark—and the privacy made the moment even more intimate.
