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I’ve been looking forward to checking this one off my first task the moment I get settled into the vacation house tomorrow evening.
“They haven’t issued an official warning for the surrounding areas yet, but the storm does seem to have shifted, and now its trajectory is closer than they originally thought.”
“So it might not hit land still, right? It’s still out at sea?” I ask, gripping around the small silver chain necklace with a space needle pendant hanging at the end.
I bought it for myself in the Seattle airport gift shop the moment Daniel and I landed in Seattle, the day we moved here. I have rarely taken it off since then. It’s like my good luck charm, but it’s no longer as bright and shiny as it used to be. Its silver plating is starting to show its age from my fingers rubbing over it whenever I get nervous.
“As of now, the authorities have not issued an official warning, just an advisory,” I hear my father’s calming voice as if my mother has me on speaker.
“Are you sure you still want to go?” my mother asks.
No, of course I don’t want to go.
But I need to go.
And my mom knows this better than anyone.
She’s the one who ultimately convinced me to agree to this trip, though I didn’t have much choice anyway since Sheridan booked it without telling me.
“I have to. The house is non-refundable and if I don’t finish this book, I’ll be in violation of my contract deadline. And anyway, I bet the storm will pass right on by,” I tell her, trying to sound calm but gripping my pendant a little tighter to shield the worry in my voice.
“I just worry about you, that's all.”
“I know. Thanks for the call, Mom. I’ll text you when I land tomorrow. Okay?”
“I’m proud of you for facing your fears, Brynn,” my dad says over the speaker.
“Thanks, Dad. I’ll talk to you guys tomorrow.”
I hear them both say their goodbyes, and I flop my phone on my side table, plugging it in so it’s fully charged tomorrow. Then I climb into bed to do a little light reading to get my mind off of what my dad just told me.
What if that storm continues to inch closer to where I’m staying?
I can’t let the fear deter me.
I set my alarm, pull my tablet up, and slide into a comfort book that I’ve read at least a dozen times.
A comfort book is exactly what I need right now.
Tomorrow, I set out for an adventure.
Chapter Three
Brynn
The next morning, my first flight from Seattle to LAX goes smoothly… right up until I walk past one of the airport bars to see a television screen with the weather channel on and a map of the coastline that I’m headed for.
With a hot coffee in one hand, my carry-on luggage rolling behind me, and my heavy laptop bag’s nylon strap digging into my shoulder, I stop dead in my tracks as I watch the weatherman point at the menacing-looking white and gray swirls on the screen headed right for Cancun, the city near where my beach house is located and the airport I’ll be flying into.
The sound isn’t turned up loud enough for me to hear the TV from where I’m standing in the walkway of the airport terminal and with my connecting flight about ready to board, I don’t have the time to stall any longer.
I can’t understand exactly what the weatherman is saying, but based on his overzealous hand movements sweeping across the coastline, matched with the large print letters flashing above him, “Storm Warning,” it’s safe to conclude that the hurricane is now coming close enough to warrant concern.
I hear my flight number being called over the intercom. The flight isn’t being delayed or canceled, which gives me some small amount of reassurance that the storm is still too far off-shore to stop flights in and out of the area.
My feet stay cemented in place, though I should be taking steps forward toward my flight's gate. Instead, my instinct is to turn right back and rebook my flight back home.
But I can’t bring myself to do either of those two things.
