Page 11

Part E

“Touch of Your Hand”

April/May

As I enter Nate’s house on Monday, I can see he’s flustered. He’s pacing the office, obviously on the phone with someone, and his hair is sticking up every which way. Papers have fallen—or were thrown—onto the floor, and he gesticulates wildly at me to look at something on his computer. I don’t even bother putting my stuff down at my desk before going to peer at his screen. His browser is loaded with tabs—all for airline websites and Google flights searches—so I know something has gone wrong with someone’s flights. Airlines, the bane of our existence.

“You have got to be kidding me!” Nate yells into the phone. “Well, they have to have some way for them to get home.”

He points at the tab open on the screen, I see the problem. Our clients, the McClellans, are supposed to be heading back from Ireland tomorrow, but the airline, Skyways, has decided to cancel their flight for some unknown reason.

Nate punches the mute button on his phone and says to me, “There aren’t any weather issues forecast, no upcoming strikes, no staffing issues I’ve seen in the news, nothing to indicate why they’re cancelling this flight. Nothing except they’re jerks!” His face is beet red and there’s a vein threatening to pop right out of his forehead.

“Deep breaths,” I reply. “Let me put my stuff down and I’ll take a look.”

Nate nods. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to take it out on you. I just hate dealing with this shit time and time again. They can just screw people over all the time without any consequen—” He quickly unmutes himself and says to the agent on the phone, “Yes, I’m here. What did you find out?”

Meanwhile, I set my lunch and my purse next to my desk and open up my laptop. Nate’s computer is too chaotic for me and don’t get me started on his desk. I love him and he’s a great travel agent, but we have very different organizational styles. I pull up the McClellans’ itinerary in our CRM, and find their original schedule. Then, I pull up their current itinerary on Skyways’ website to see what new flight they’ve scheduled them for. Therein lies the problem. They’ve neglected to offer another flight option after cancelling the original one.

“Thursday?!” Nate exclaims. “No, no, no. That will not work at all. They have a connecting flight tomorrow and they can’t stay in Ireland for another two days because you people cancelled their flight for no reason. This is unacceptable.”

“Nate,” I say, with a warning tone. Although the airline in general deserves all he can dish out, the specific person he’s talking to didn’t cancel the flight and is probably doing everything they can to help.

“I’m sorry. This isn’t your fault, but there has to be something you all can do to get them home before Thursday.”

He looks at me as if to say, “Is that better?” I smile and nod before going back to the task at hand. Scrolling through all the flights Skyways has tomorrow, I see a schedule that might work. It’s a gnarly one with two connections, but it would get our clients home tomorrow instead of two days late. It’s basically the only option I can see without us having to force the airline to refund the clients and trying to rebook them on another carrier.

“Hey, look at this,” I say, pointing at my screen.

Nate comes over to look, and nods. “It’s not ideal, but at least they get home the same day. Is that all they have?”

“Yeah. I couldn’t find anything else that would get them back tomorrow.”

“Well, that’s what they’re going to do then. Assuming this guy ever gets back on the line with me.” He stalks back over to his desk. “Can you send that to me?”

“Sure thing,” I reply. I send it to him, then go put my lunch in the fridge, finally.

About five minutes later, I’m stirring honey into two mugs of tea when Nate comes into the kitchen. “I’m so sorry I got so upset back there. I didn’t mean to take my frustrations out on you or the guy on the phone,” he says, taking the mug I offer him. “Thanks for looking up the alternative schedule. And for the tea.”

“It’s okay,” I reply, taking a sip of mine to see if there’s enough honey in it. I add a tiny bit more because the day is certainly starting out to be one where a little extra honey could go a long way. “Any particular reason you’re extra touchy today?”

Nate rolls his eyes as he swallows a gulp of tea. “We heard back from our wedding planner that The Cannon Room is booked for every weekend for the rest of the year, not to mention November fifth, and Isaac is having an absolute meltdown. Which means that I’m having a meltdown because if he’s not happy, I’m not happy. He really had his heart set on getting married there.”

“Oh, I am so sorry. I know he’s dreamed of getting married there since Andrew and Suzanna’s wedding.”

Nate nods. “It’s not that he wanted to one-up his brother, but we both really liked the vibe of the place, you know?”

“I know he’s really upset right now, but do you think he’d be open to another suggestion?”

Nate shrugs. “If he’s not, I am. We need to get this show on the road if we’re going to get married in seven months.”

“That’s exactly what I was thinking.” I set down my mug and pull out my phone from my pocket. I open my browser and pull up the site of the venue I’m thinking of. “So, I was thinking I’d get married here myself at some point, but that doesn’t sound like it will be happening anytime soon, and I—” My voice cracks and even though I wasn’t expecting it, tears spring to my eyes.

“Clare,” Nate says, sympathetically. “Your someone is out there. She, or he, might be right in front of you before you know it.”

I nod and wipe the tears away with a napkin from the counter. “I know. And I really thought I was over it. I thought I’d moved on from Suz, but…well…here we are.”

“I know this is going to sound like a cliché, but these things take time. It’s only been a little over a week. Give yourself the grace to feel your feelings.”

“I will. Thank you.” I take a deep breath, then focus back on my phone. “Alright, back to the task at hand. What about the NC Art Museum for your wedding?”

Nate’s eyes widen. “I’m intrigued. Tell me more.”

* * *

That night, I text Suz to see when a good time would be to pick up the rest of my things from our…her place. She answers back almost immediately.

Suz: I guess sometime when I’m at work. You still have your key?

Clare: Yeah. I’ll see when N&I are free to help with the furniture and come then.

Suz: K

I see the little ellipsis that means she’s typing something else, but it keeps disappearing. I wonder what she’s thinking about saying and not. Does she wish I’d come back? Is she missing me? Does she wish she’d told me she loved me or called me her girlfriend? Did I make a mistake by leaving?

Finally, her next texts come through.

Suz: Don’t forget to take that godawful chair in the guestroom.

Suz: And leave the prorated rent/utilities check on the kitchen counter.

So, yeah. None of those things. I made the absolute best decision.

* * *

On Thursday evening, I’m doing an online dance workout with my favorite instructor, Gina B. of Up to the Beat Fitness. I’m in my usual sneakers, black biker shorts (with pockets), and my favorite Up to the Beat branded tank, which says “Be Active Be Happy Be You.”

I’m currently doing the cha-cha-cha in her Power Walk through the Decades ‘80s mix and sweating buckets, but having a great time. I’m pumping my chest and my arms as I step forward on one side, then chassé to the other side and repeat. The music is fast, so I’m having to really focus on my footwork. I’m singing along as well, which helps me focus on my breathing.

“Do you think the boys would like Caffé Luna for their engagement party?” Abby asks abruptly, nearly making me lose my balance. “Whoops. Sorry. I didn’t notice you were working out.”

Out of breath, I hit pause on the video and take a sip of water before responding. “It’s…okay,” I pant.

Abby waves her hands. “Never mind. I can come back later. Go ahead and finish.”

“It’s fine. I was almost done. What did you need?” I reply, drinking some more water and walking in place to cool down.

“I was just looking at venues for the engagement party and wondered if you thought they’d like Caffé Luna.”

I think about this for a moment. “Nate and Isaac have always loved Caffé Luna, so that sounds like a great plan to me.”

“Wonderful. I will give them a call tomorrow and get it booked,” she says.

“Was that all you needed?” I ask—now stepping side to side, doing arm stretches—wondering why she interrupted my workout to ask such a simple question.

“Yeah... Well, no.” She chews on her lower lip and sits down, then stands right back up again. I haven’t seen her this nervous in a while.

I stop my stretching and walk closer to her. “Abby, what’s up?”

“My parents are coming for a visit again,” she replies. “They want to take me out for a full dinner next week to ‘catch up.’ My mom said she’d make a reservation ‘someplace quieter.’ Ugh!”

“Ugh is right,” I say. The Cassidys’ idea of catching up is usually grilling Abby about her nonexistent love life, why she didn’t go into law like them, how she expects to support herself doing property management for the rest of her life, why she won’t let them fix her up with one of their friends’ handsome sons, etc. Lately, they’ve come to terms with the fact that Abby is a lesbian, but that only means that they have then tried to fix her up with eligible daughters of their rich friends. Like Lily. I’d almost forgotten about Lily.

“Yeah. I don’t think I have the bandwidth to deal with them again so soon. Things have been crazy at work, and I haven’t had a real date in I don’t know how long—that soccer thing with Lily was so not a date—and I don’t even know what to tell them on that front.” She sighs heavily.

“Really? You didn’t tell me the date with Lily didn’t go well,” I reply, secretly cheering on the inside.

She scoffs. “We planned to meet there, which was fine, but then she left my ticket at the box office. Didn’t even meet me at the front gate or anything. Who does that?” She throws her hands out to the side forcefully. “Then, I tried to talk to her during the game, you know, to get to know her at least a little. She shushed me! Can you believe that?”

“Wow. Sounds like she was more interested in the game than in you.”

“Exactly. I mean, I was only doing this to get my parents off my back, but I was at least trying to be polite and talk with her a little.”

I ponder this for a moment. “Maybe, she was on the date for the same reason. To get her parents off her back, so she didn’t really have any interest in moving things forward with you.” I hold up a hand as Abby starts to object. “Not a reason at all for her to be rude to you, but that might be the explanation.”

She scrunches up her face, then says, “Yeah, you’re probably right. But, what do I tell my parents? You know how they are. They’re going to grill me about the date and not understand that it didn’t go well cause Lily and I didn’t hit it off. And I just… Would you go with me? You know, take the edge off?”

“Of course I will. Just tell me where and when,” I reply with all sincerity.

Abby throws her arms around me. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“You’re welcome, but I’m all sweaty and gross, are you sure you want to hug me right now?” I say, laughing and hugging her back. I have to say I’m not the least bit upset by her hug, quite the contrary. Our bodies fit together in such an easy way, whereas Suz and I were so awkward whenever we hugged or touched. Stop comparing Abby to Suz. They’re two different people.

“I do not care,” she says, hugging me tighter. “You lifted an enormous weight off my shoulders and as long as you take a shower between now and next Tuesday, we’re golden.”

We both laugh as we pull apart. “Hey, while we’re asking for favors…”

Abby raises an eyebrow. I find it so attractive when people can do that, and I’m only about forty percent jealous that I can’t. “Yeeaaah?”

“Since the biopsy was negative—thank God—and I’ve gotten out of the dead-end relationship, I thought maybe it was time for me to make some other life changes.”

“Oooo! Tell me more.” Abby’s face lights up.

“Well…I was thinking maybe I could try to get my driver’s license again. Would you help me?” I brace for whatever Abby might say or do when I drop this bomb. My friends have been incredibly supportive over the last five years, and they’ve never pressured me in any way, but I know it’s a burden to have a friend who doesn’t drive. I do take the bus as many places as I can, and rideshare is always an option, if money isn’t too tight, but I rely on my friends an awful lot to get me from place to place. Since the five-year mark of the accident passed, I’ve been seriously thinking about getting my license again, and I think it’s finally time.

Abby’s squeal is almost deafening. She throws her arms around my neck and wiggles me back and forth with glee. Letting me go, she says, “Nothing would make me happier than to help you get your license again.” She puts her hand up. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying that I want you to get your license, I’m happy that you feel like you’re ready to get your license again.”

I smile as tears start to well up in my eyes. “Thank you. That means a lot.”

“It means a lot that you asked me.” Abby’s eyes shimmer with tears as well.

I wipe my eyes and change the subject before we’re both sobbing. “Okay, let me go take a shower, then you can tell me more about your plans for the engagement party.”

As I turn to go to my bedroom, Abby calls after me, “I love hearing you sing when you’re working out. I don’t think I ever knew all the words to ‘Livin’ on a Prayer’ until now.”

I smile to myself and have no doubt about the song I’ll be singing in the shower.