13 Xavier
13
XAVIER
I WAS GOING to see Samantha.
I’d head straight to the airport from work on Saturday and arrive in California by 4:00. Monday I was taking a 6:00 a.m. flight home and going straight from the airport to the clinic. I’d had to cancel all my volunteer shifts and block off most of the day on Monday. My dog was going with Maggie.
I’d booked a cheap hotel near where Samantha said she lived. I didn’t want to assume she’d let me stay with her and I didn’t ask if I could in case she felt obligated to say yes. I was going to book a car too, but she offered to pick me up. This I did agree to because it seemed the most practical. I could always get an Uber if I needed one and I didn’t like to lose time with her. I wanted to see her as soon as I got off the plane.
If paying for this trip had taught me anything, it was that this situation would not be sustainable. The best I could hope for was to feel nothing and be let down.
Unfortunately, I was not let down. In fact, I knew I’d messed up the second I saw her.
She was a vision, waiting for me outside the baggage claim, leaning on the door of a classic blue convertible. I accidentally came out a different exit than the one I told her I would, so I saw her before she saw me. When she looked over and our eyes locked, I was done for.
I was going to go broke coming here. I knew it immediately.
“Hey!” She closed the distance between us, and I dropped my duffel bag with a thud and folded around the hug she gave me.
I felt instantly content. Like I’d been living with some invisible driving force to get here, running at a low hum, and suddenly the engine cut off.
“How was your flight?” she whispered, not letting me go.
Worth it , I thought.
“Good,” I said, dipping my nose into her hair.
She broke away from me, smiling. “I put the top down for you,” she said.
“This is your car?” I asked, looking past her at it.
“Yeah.” She nodded over her shoulder. “It’s magic. Apparently if you lift the hood, men appear from nowhere and ask you if you need a jump.”
I scoffed.
“I brought you something.” I handed her the bag I’d carried.
She peeked in while I put my things in the trunk. “You brought me cupcakes?” She beamed.
“Nadia Cakes,” I said.
“I was obsessed with them when I lived in Minnesota—thank you! There’s one here too but it’s like an hour away.”
“I got you a Spumoni. Maraschino cherries.”
“And to thank you, I will take you to eat the best burger you’ve ever had in your life.” She set the bag on the seat and then came back around to hug me again.
Content.