13. Ava
Another weekend, another tournament. This time it”s for longer than just a couple of days.
Some girls have qualified for an elite camp and then we”ll be in one tournament a few days before heading to another tournament right after that. It made sense to book both of them because they’re back-to-back in the same location, which means we only need to book one set of flights rather than two.
I”m feeling so much better this week and I”m hoping that will help my coaching abilities. Being off last weekend led to a few mistakes. I know I”m only human, but sometimes I think I should be past all that, especially since I”m not playing.
We”re in the airport, trying to get everyone checked in, and it’s pure chaos. We have a few parents attending this leg of the tournament, which helps keep the girls in line. Sometimes it’s like herding cats with how distracted they get with their phones and each other.
It takes almost forty-five minutes to get everything squared away at the check-in desks. It’s a good thing we told the girls to be early.
Then it’s the battle for the security line. I’m jealous when I see Charlie and Emily go through the pre-check lines. I’ve always thought that might be a good investment with how often we fly in the summer. Finding time and the money to fill out the paperwork is the real issue.
By the time all the bags get through the scanners and special security checks for our equipment, our flight is almost ready to board. At least I’ll have a couple of hours to relax after the anxiety-inducing event at the airport with a gaggle of girls.
“Before we begin our boarding process, we need a few passengers for flight DL2165 to Nashville to volunteer to take a later flight. We’ll get you on the next flight in a few hours and are offering a travel voucher for any future Delta flight.”
I glance down to see that’s the number of our flight. That means there will be no extra seats to stretch out. There’s no way I’m going to be taking the voucher, even though it would be nice to have money toward future flights.
We’ve got a full schedule and I need to prep the girls who are attending the elite camp tomorrow.
In need of a drink, I head over to the drinking fountain and fill up my water bottle. It’s not as refreshing as the water I had to dump out when we arrived, but it’s free and will get me through the flight.
Walking around and checking out a bookstore, I debate whether I should buy a book. I love the idea of reading, but there’s usually a lot going on that disrupts any good book I’m trying to finish.
I decide the splurge is worth it and stand in line behind five other people.
My phone rings. Marsha’s name is on the screen. “Hey, I’ll be there in a minute.”
“They’re almost done boarding.” There’s a panic in her voice and I pull the phone away from my ear to glance at the time. We’ve still got thirty to thirty-five minutes before the flight takes off.
“Why so early?”
Granted, this is my first flight in around eight months, but boarding times are a lot like the security spiel they always give about fastening seat belts and finding exits should something happen.
“Apparently, they’re shutting the doors fifteen minutes before the flight now. Hurry and get here.”
There’s some mumbling behind her and I hurry to put the book back before speed walking toward the gate. I’m usually the queen of the early bird status, but I’m not sure why I misjudged my time so badly.
I breathe out as I make it with the door open, searching for my boarding pass. It’s usually on my phone, but a problem with the booking meant I had to have a printout. I freeze, my heart pounding in my chest. It was in the book I was going to buy.
Sprinting back to the bookstore, the book is in the same position I left it. And thank goodness my boarding pass is inside.
I rush back to the gate, panicking as the airline worker closes the door to get onto the plane.
Trying to be as polite as possible under the circumstances, I say, “Hi, I’m supposed to be on this flight. I coach a girl’s lacrosse team and they’re all in there already. Here’s my boarding pass. Can I still get on?” My chest constricts while I watch the attendant’s face give me a small smile.
“I’m afraid that we’ve oversold this flight. You’ll have to be booked on the next one.”
My chest sinks. “But I have my boarding pass here.” I stretch it out to her and she gives me another polite smile.
“We had to give your seat away when you didn’t check in. The next flight to Nashville leaves at 7:15 pm. I can give you an aisle or a window seat for that one. May I see your ID, please?”
My cheeks are probably as red as when I’ve been outside too long without sunscreen. This is why I’m extra early for everything. I’m not sure what happened this time. Maybe my brain shorted out when I thought I had time to stand in line for a book.
Why is this my life? Some example I am for the girls. Actually, this is probably the best example ever of what not to do.
The woman behind the desk prints off something and hands me a ticket and my license back. The boarding time is six hours from now. At least it will be tonight. The girls need to be well-rested and at the elite camp early tomorrow. Not that I have to be there for the camp, but I’d like to encourage them on the way to the facility.
Calling Marsha, I say, “So, bad news. Apparently I now have to take a later flight that doesn’t leave for six hours.”
“So you’ll be on the same one as Charlie?” Marsha says.
“What do you mean?” Why is that how my day is going?
“I don’t think he made it either. Emily got a text from him right before you called that the doors were shut.”
“Great,” I say, dragging the word out.
She chuckles. “I don’t know. That might give you some good one-on-one time. The guy seems to be the real deal.”
“What? Like a tool?”
“You know that’s not how he is,” Marsha chides.
Blowing out a breath, I turn in a circle, scanning the crowd for Charlie. He’s looking very relaxed for having just missed the flight. He’s studying his phone and I want to strangle him with how calm he is.
Marsha is right, but I don’t want her to know that.
“Will you be okay until I get there?”
“Ava, I have children. I’ll be fine. You enjoy your date with Charlie.”
She hangs up before I can form a retort. I put my phone back into my pocket and glance around. What am I supposed to do for six hours at an airport? And why, of all the people in the universe, did Charlie miss the flight?
I walk over and set my bag on the ground, sitting so there’s an empty seat between me and Charlie. “Six hours at an airport, huh?”
Charlie looks over, surprised to see me. “You missed the flight, too?”
“Yeah. I got the time mixed up. What about you?”
He glances up at me, his eyes locking with mine. “I was on a work call and I couldn”t end fast enough.” He shakes his head and I can barely hear him say, “Just another reason I need to delegate.”
“What are your plans?” It’s only then I realize how it sounds. I don’t want him to think I care about what he does for the next six hours of life, but I know boredom is going to set in really quickly for me.
“Trying to see if there are any private flights available.”
“Private flights?” I didn’t realize there was such a thing for people who aren’t celebrities and athletes.
Charlie glances up at me and nods. “Yeah, there are smaller planes where you can see if they’re going to where you need to go and then book a seat on them.”
“So not buying out the entire plane?”
He chuckles and says, “Some people do that.”
“How much does it cost?” I don’t know why I’m curious. My bank account might go into the red at the thought of booking a private flight.
“It depends on the size of the plane and the distance. This company says it’s around three thousand dollars per hour.”
I freeze, doing the math in my head. The flight I just missed was supposed to be just over three hours. Nine thousand dollars for three hours? That’s insane.
It could’ve been an hour that I sat there in a stunned silence. Sure, I haven’t talked to my parents in a few years, but even after coming into money, they only upgraded flights to first class. I could pay all the bigger bills for a year with that much money. The advantages of living in a mortgage-free home with my grandmother and paying for the basics.
“You would pay that much for one flight?” I ask, still trying to wrap my head around it.
He shakes his head and laughs. “No. I’m not that desperate.”
We sit in silence for a few moments, Charlie on his phone and me just trying to figure out how that much money for a flight is a reality.
“Let’s go,” Charlie says, standing up and pulling the strap of his messenger bag over one shoulder.
“Where?” I ask, glancing at the clock on the wall. We’ve still got five and a half hours until the flight takes off.
“I booked us a flight.”
Shaking my head, I say, “I hope you can get a refund.”
“For the regular seats on the flight we just missed? I’ve already done that.” That must mean he paid for them already. How much money does this guy have? And why am I touched that he would help all of us like this?
“I’m talking about the private flight. You don’t have to pay for me.”
Charlie sighs, like he doesn’t have the energy for me right now. I can understand. I wouldn’t have the energy to deal with me either.
“Ava, I’ve factored in several things. There is a big storm coming this way, one that might make it impossible for the plane to take off from here if we wait several more hours. You’re the coach. It would be hard for Marsha or one of the other parents to take over your duties. Think of it as a gift.”
“And what do you call the rest of the things you keep paying for?” It’s petty, but I’m trying to keep him far away in my mind, in the untouchable zone. But if he keeps doing things like this just because, it will be hard to keep my distance.
“Making my niece happy and helping others in the process. I might not know a lot about girl’s lacrosse, but I know the sports teams I played on growing up would have benefitted from someone to help with the costs of things.”
All the air from my arguments whooshes out of me. Darn caring hearted guy.
Sighing, I say, “Okay. Just this once.”
It’s not long before we get a car to take us to Skypark Airport, just a few miles away from the one I’m used to flying from. Luckily, I rarely check bags, aka. being too cheap to pay more money for them, so my carry-ons are all I have with me.
“Are you all right?” Charlie asks.
“I will be.”
“Anything I can do to help that along?” he asks, a ghost of a smile on his lips. Why am I staring at those beautiful pink things, wondering what it would feel like with them on mine?
“No. I mean, am I even dressed okay for a private flight?” Charlie is wearing slacks and a polo shirt, while I’m wearing the equivalent of a tracksuit and sneakers.
Charlie laughs. “Not too many people will even notice what you’re wearing. They’ll be too busy ‘conducting business’ to worry about that.”
“That makes me feel so much better,” I say dryly.
We get to the entrance and they check Charlie’s paperwork and then let us through. “That’s it?”
“People who pay for a higher priced flight are usually just trying to get to where they’re going.”
This differs from the ideas I’ve had about people with money for a good portion of my life. Who knew I’d learn that much from a missed flight?