But there was something else; this ticket was only one-way. I hoped that it was some kind of mistake, but the gate agent assured me it wasn’t. I hoped they - whoever they were - would buy another one-way ticket to get me back home when the mess had been dealt with. Worst case, I’d have to buy my own, and not First Class. But there was undoubtedly something squirrely. Whoever bought the ticket, they must expect me to be in Ireland for an indefinite length of time. Why? How long did it take to settle a dead relative’s affairs, anyway? Not that I had any real perspective on that.
Yawning, I pulled out my cell phone and tapped over to Katie’s latest text.
KATIE: Hey Cupcake! Have fun in 1Class! Can’t wait to hear about your fam.
KEIRA: Still stunned over the idea.
KATIE: Chill.
KEIRA: Im pissed. Why did she never reach out?
KATIE: IDK. Ruff. U find out soon enough.
KEIRA: Better be a damn good reason she left me out in cold.
KATIE: Cheer up! Rembr livin high life? Travel large gal. Enjoy.
KEIRA: Guess your right.
KATIE: Much as u can with ur granny dead! LOL.
KEIRA: Haha. Plane boarding will keep you posted.
Time seemed to blur once I took my seat on the aircraft. On the very few occasions I had been on a plane, I had never been able to sleep for one second. The plane was too cramped, I was too anxious... But in First Class? I had so much room, I could have parked my shitty old Ford Escort next to me! We hadn’t even taxied to the runway, and I had a glass of champagne in one hand, and a pita with hummus in the other. I hadn’t even tried the brie and toasted sourdough yet, before I realized I had powered down the bubbly the flight attendant was pouring me another, which I gladly took. Which I well deserved.
This whole family thing had me totally stressed. After all the dogshit foster homes I bounced in and out of, the only family I’d ever known was the nice lesbian couple who’d finally adopted me when I was a teenager. They were good women, kind, both of them. Sheri and Louisa treated me more like an adult than the hormonal thirteen-year-old hot mess I actually was when they took me in. They set general limits, but expected me to handle my own affairs; and by extension, to make my own mistakes. Thanks to the independence, I eventually learned how to fix my own shortcomings with the gentle guidance of my ‘two mommies’. They were the one diamond in the shit pile of other foster families that fucked me over, then dumped me back into the system. When I thought of their kindness in comparison to the rest of the borderline tragedy that is the American foster system, it pained me to admit that even Sheri and Louisa couldn’t fill the ache within me.But my sorry truth is this: kind as they were, they could never fill that void in me that was always there. Nothing would ever change that. At least, that’s what I believed – then…
I was dimly aware of taking off, still brooding over my third glass of chompers, and I’ll be damned if I wasn’t sound asleep before we reached cruising altitude. Goddamnit, if I didn’t sleep through all the other perks, I thought through grinding teeth.I had missed the jumbo shrimp cocktail! I didn’t even get to choose between filet mignon or grilled salmon. Worst of all, I slept through thousands of miles of open bar. It was a criminal waste.
“Good Morning Ladies and Gentleman, this is your Captain speaking. We are about to begin our descent into Dublin, where the local time is 9:30 am…” He prattled on with the usual, but I tuned out. I lifted my window shade and took my first look at Ireland. I thought I had seen green before, but this green wasn’t the same. This made every other green I’d ever seen before, every leaf and blade of grass, even the green ivy against the red brick of Hale Hall, they all look like dull shades of gray in comparison to the colors I could see outside of my window. I understood how Dorothy must have felt in The Wizard of Oz, when her house was lifted out of black and white Kansas and dropped in Technicolor Munchkin Land. Toto, we’re not in Georgia anymore. Below me, a vast and verdant Irish landscape was spread out, a carpet of intensely rich jade and olive and lime, rolling as far as my eyes could see, to infinity.
I exited off the plane along with the rest of the passengers, and hurried to the nearest bathroom to freshen up. I braced the counter with my hands and looked at myself in the mirror. Well, that won’t do, I told the wrinkled troll staring back at me. I grabbed my cheap red hairbrush from my carry-on bag and dragged it through my hopelessly tangled frizz and painful knots. Unfortunately, grooming it back to the long, silky black tresses (which existed mostly in my mind) was far too much to ask after a nine-hour flight and coma-nap, and eventually I settled on a high ponytail. I put my brush away, and splashed some water on my face, not recognizing the girl who was looking back at me.
My
