When I had finally found an out, I took it, reaching overhead, grabbing my backpack, and never looking back. My eyes were heavy, my body moving at a snail’s pace, and my brain not sure if it needed caffeine or a good long nap. I trekked through the airport like a zombie, following behind some of the other passengers I recognized from my flight, hoping they’d lead me to the baggage claim area I needed to be at. I stopped at the carousel they had led me to and stood there in a daze, glad I had a pink polka-dot suitcase that was easily recognizable.
“Ah, that anxiety every traveler feels as they watch the suitcases go round and round and begin to think that their suitcase won’t be coming out and instead is headed for another destination.” A familiar voice came up from behind me.
The fog I was in lifted just enough to register that it was DeAndre. “Every time!” I replied without hesitation. I was the worst when it came to that. The thought of being without my belongings while I was away sent me into a full-blown panic. So far, I had been lucky, and I was hoping this wouldn’t be the trip where my luck ran out. Relief washed over me when I spotted my polka dots making their way through the chute. “That’s me!” I said, pointing to the suitcase.
“Guess you wanted to make sure you saw it coming.”
“Exactly!” I replied, struggling to grab my suitcase off the belt. “What color is yours?”
He smirked. “Hey now, that sounds a little personal…we did just meet after all.” He tried to hold back his laughter. “I’m navy blue.”
I shook my head. “Navy blue…yours and probably seventy-five percent of the people on our flight. Now do you see why I went with pink and polka dots?”
“Oh, no, girl, I’m very resourceful. I have a standout on mine.”
“Mind letting me in on what that is so I can help you locate it?”
“Don’t have to because here it is.” He reached for the suitcase sliding past us and I immediately looked down at his luggage tag to find it adorned in the colors of the gay pride rainbow.
Fortunately, we were greeted right away by a short, portly man with a handlebar mustache, holding up a sign for our tour company as soon as we exited that baggage claim area. He pointed us to an open area where another man with a clipboard was standing. I couldn’t wait to sit down and hopefully catch a few winks on the ride to the hotel. But to my dismay, that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon. The transportation company was anything but organized, and I was hoping this wasn’t a precursor of what was to come with the actual tour.
After giving them my name, I stood with my head rested against the cement wall with about a dozen other wary travelers while the man who had greeted us, the man with the clipboard, and another man spoke in German. I couldn’t understand a word of what they were saying, but their faces told me they were downright confused. Adding to my exhaustion was the fact the airport seemed to have the heat jacked up to some ungodly temperature. I took off my coat and draped it over my arm, wondering if I could fall asleep while standing up. I closed my eyes and Evan’s face flashed before me. Our wedding day. Our honeymoon to Paris, then Normandy, and ending in Provence. We were so happy, so in love. What could’ve gone so wrong in the near decade we had been married? “No matter what happens or how hard it gets, we’ll always stand by each other and work things out. I will be your umbrella in the rain, your fire in the darkness, and your water in the drought.” Those were the words Evan and I had vowed to each other on that day we said “I do.” He had held true to his word—I hadn’t.
“Thanks for watching that for me.” My eyes sprang open at the sound of DeAndre’s voice.
Shit, was I supposed to be watching something for him? I looked down at his suitcase right beside me and realized I was. “No problem.” I played it off as if I had been keeping a dutiful eye on it the entire time.
“I wasn’t sure how you took it, so I added the cream and brought you back some sugar.” He offered me one of the coffee cups in his hand along with two sugar packets.
“Oh, thanks so much!” I replied, not sure if the coffee would kill me or cure me. My stomach hadn’t been feeling that great, but I knew it was all nerve related. Now that I had made it to my destination without any major snafus, I was hoping it would settle down. I only hoped the coffee didn’t make it worse. But, on the other hand, I could feel a headache coming on, and I knew caffeine would do the trick to halt it from turning into a full-blown migraine. I opened the lid and poured both packets of sugar in.
“So, you’re a two-sugar type of girl,” DeAndre remarked.
My eyes burned with a memory of Evan. It was the day he had finally worked up the courage to ask me out. I had been going into the same coffee shop for a week, working on a research paper that was going to count for half of my grade for the semester. I hadn’t been paying any attention to the comings and goings of any of the customers as I dutifully pounded away on my laptop. If I
