Gotten by the Gator (Fated Dates)
1. Aurora at the airport.
Chapter one
Aurora at the airport.
“ U h, Mom… Can you pick me up from the airport?” I gasped through heavy tears as I plopped my suitcase down onto the sidewalk.
“Of course, hunny. When do you land? I didn’t know you were flying down.” Her worried rustling of things told me I’d caught her at a bad time, likely elbows deep in something at the farm. Hopefully, it wasn’t an animal.
I sank onto the warm concrete, drying my eyes with the back of my sleeve. There would be time later to beat myself over not calling her prior to buying plane tickets. However, at the time, if I stopped to tell anyone where I was going, my biggest fear was that they would ask why. Why, Aurora? Why did you drop everything on a flight to Oklahoma from Virginia? I choked as a thousand voices filled my skull with incessant questions.
“I’m already here,” I croaked, tossing my hair back .
“Here? Like here, here?” She squawked. A flutter of wings and the warbled sounds of pissed off chickens filled the receiver. Oh, so she was elbows deep in an animal.
“Sorry, I can call a cab. I wasn’t thinking-”
“No!” my mom barked. “Gladys, take over. All the babies are out, so it’s just clean up. Aurora, don’t you dare call a cab. In this economy? The drive here from the airport will cost you an arm and a leg and three pints of blood. Not happening. I’m washing my hands, and then I’ll be right there. You just hang tight and don’t talk to anyone—don’t look at anyone.”
“Mom,” I groaned, rolling my already puffy, angry eyes. “I’m thirty, not twelve. I think I can withstand sitting on the curb while I wait for you to come pick me up.”
“All the same, people are wacky these days, walking up to complete strangers and trying to talk them into those MLM schemes or worse—reality television!”
I snorted, a pitiful snot bubble bursting from my nostrils. Hurriedly, I rubbed my crusty nose on my sleeve as well. The last thing I needed was anyone noticing I’d cried so hard, my nose ran. It’s not a good look, Aurora. I gulped hard as the only voice in my head was his . My stomach lurched, and the only thing keeping me from breaking out into more tears was biting down on my fingers. It was a misdirect. Heart can’t hurt if your finger hurts more. Unfortunately, my age-old trick grew increasingly—worryingly—less helpful with every passing moment.
“Mom, I’ll be okay. Just… just get here as soon as you can.” I trembled down to my bones as I stared at a horizon of concrete and cars. People whizzed by me, not even glancing my way. I was an insect on a windshield, ignorable and insignificant.
“Hunny, are you gonna tell me why you flew down here last minute… and why you sound like you’re crying?”
A broken sob escaped my mouth. “I will in the car.”
Because there were two places a proper lady could break down: the car with tinted windows, or behind a locked bathroom door, and right now, sitting on the airport curb, I was neither of those places. Anthony taught me that.