9. Addison
9
Addison
T he days were growing longer, but the weather stubbornly remained bleak. Outside the floor-to-ceiling plate-glass windows, the sky was gray and moody, the clouds heavy with rain that was probably waiting to fall until she got in her car to drive home. It was not quite winter, not quite spring, just cold and damp and muddy.
“Like my heart,” Addison said with a sigh as she stood behind the counter at the entrance of the jetway, waiting for the first of the passengers to disembark from the plane. After working for the airline for so many years, she had experience in almost every position and filled in wherever she was needed. Folks getting off a plane rarely even acknowledged her as she smiled in welcome, but inevitably, if an attendant wasn’t available to assist the passengers, someone would need something.
Affordable air fares meant fewer staff for many airlines, particularly at small regional airports like this one. And gate agents, especially, felt the crunch of that. They were responsible for a multitude of tasks that enabled flights to stay on schedule. They operated the jetways, maneuvering the bridge tunnels into position for passengers getting on and off the planes. They arranged for wheelchairs and unaccompanied minors, dealt with the fallout of inflight passenger emergencies, and directed travelers to connecting gates and baggage claim areas. They helped with cleaning the cabins between flights, cleared new crew members and standby passengers, and scanned boarding passes. They took care of gate-checked carry-on bags, dealt with irritable customers with last-minute travel issues, closed the gates, and pulled back the Jetways so the plane could leave. They answered endless questions, operated the system computers like skilled hackers, knew where the closest restroom/restaurant/electrical outlet/bar/lounge was from anywhere in the terminal. And they were required to do it all with a smile.
The job could be overwhelming on a good day, and, like so many of her days lately, today had not been a good day.
Addison was more than a little frazzled after dealing with a passenger who had made a horrible to-do after a turbulent flight from Dallas. The woman's complaint was not about the turbulence, though, but about the terrified little boy in the seat next to hers. “That… child, ” she ground out in a tone that let everyone know she wanted to call him something else. “Screeched like a stuck pig the entire flight.” Her voice was loud and shrill enough to evoke a similar description of her own behavior. “He wouldn’t shut up, and the mother just sat there the whole time and did nothing to stop his temper tantrum. It was bad enough that we all had to deal with your pilot’s inability to do his job right—I have bruises on my ribcage from being thrown against the seat handles, you know. But to have to endure that, too? And no one would respond to my call button light, either. Talk about inept.”
Addison had tried to explain that flight attendants couldn’t get out of their seats during that kind of turbulence, except for in an emergency, but to no avail. The passenger made it clear that she considered her circumstances to be just such an emergency.
She’d demanded a refund for her ticket, and when that wasn't forthcoming, she threatened to file a lawsuit against the airlines, the woman and her child, and the flight crew for not stepping in. Addison had offered to take her name and information to pass on to management. “It’s possible we can compensate you in some other way,” she’d suggested, knowing that the company would likely issue her some air miles to use on a future flight.
The woman had adamantly refused. “You can’t just dismiss me like this,” she’d shouted, infusing her statement with profanity.
To Addison’s relief, someone had notified security while she was dealing with the situation, and a few moments later, an officer had appeared and escorted the woman to the exit under the threat of arrest. She had shrieked obscenities the entire way out of the building.
It was only after she’d gone that Addison had noticed the young mother whose child had been so distraught on the plane. She’d stayed behind in the hopes of helping to set things right, and was now in tears herself. Addison had spent the last fifteen minutes trying to calm the woman, assuring her that she’d done nothing wrong, that her child, a delightful little boy who seemed to have recovered completely, was not to blame for his reaction to the traumatic experience. Addison took a measure of pride in the fact that she had somehow managed to do so without openly lambasting the vile woman who’d made such a fool of herself over the situation.
Now, all she wanted was for the next group of disembarking travelers—the last on her shift—to sweep past her and right on out of the building. Her smile in place, she stood at the ready at the boarding pass station near the open door of the Jetway.
When Noel Stewart exited the bridge, chatting affably with a woman on his other side and just out of Addison’s line of sight, she shrank back a little further, hoping to blend in with the blue paint on the wall behind her. Of all the people in the world, she didn’t need him noticing her. She knew without a doubt that she looked as frazzled as she felt. She glued her eyes to the monitor screen in front of her, intent on looking too busy to disturb, and pleaded under her breath, “Just walk on by, all you people. Walk on by.”
It wasn’t meant to be. “Hello, Addison, dear.”
Addison plastered on a smile and looked up to see who had greeted her. “Barb!” she exclaimed in surprise, then scuttled around the counter to hug her friend. She stepped back and gave the attractive, motherly figure a quick once over. “You look stunning, as usual. Even after traveling all day. I’d forgotten you were coming back this week.”
“Oh, goodness, Addison, but you do know how to make a person smile, don’t you?” Barb Selway wasn’t only a frequent flyer out of the little regional airport, but a friend, too. Addison had met the Selways during her first summer living in Autumn Lake. The town held an annual floating lantern festival, and Addison had braved going down to the lake on her own in a concerted effort to become a part of her new community. She’d struggled to get her lantern lit when it was time to set the beacons afloat and had been on the verge of giving up. Barb and Craig Selway, however, had been on a blanket nearby, along with their son, Rory, their daughter, Andrea, and Andrea's husband, Jeff. Barb had practically shoved Rory at Addison, insisting he help her with her lantern. “Scooch your chair on over close to us, dear,” Barb had called out to her. “You don’t want to get lost in this crowd.”
They’d become fast friends that evening, and inevitably, Barb had all but asked Addison if she’d like to go on a date with Rory. The guy had good-naturedly gone along with his mother’s machinations and asked Addison to join him and several of his friends for a fish fry the following evening.
To her surprise, Addison had enjoyed herself thoroughly. The group had been larger than she’d expected, at least thirty people around their age, and the fish had been fresh-caught right from the lake earlier that week. The deep-fried catfish and potato wedges and the flaky cheesy biscuits came from one of the seasonal diners on the boardwalk, and Addison thought it might have been the best meal she’d had since moving to the small lakeside town.
“You’ll have to forgive my mother,” Rory had said to her as they sat shoulder-to-shoulder on a log in front of the bonfire. “She wants me to get married and bring forth a whole new generation of Selways before she, in her words, ‘is too old to roll around on the floor with them.’”
Addison had giggled at the imagery that conjured up. “What about your sister?” she’d asked him.
“Oh, Mom’s pressuring them; believe me. But Andrea is married, so I’ve got some catching up to do, especially since I’m the older sibling and will hand off the Selway name.” Rory had studied the dancing flames, the light flickering across the planes of his handsome face. He’d turned to smile amiably at her. “We don’t really mind, Andy and me. Mom and Dad have a great marriage and loved being parents, and they want us to have the same ‘overflowing joy’ in our lives, too. Mom’s words again, not mine.”
“Does that mean you aren’t interested in marriage and children?” Addison had asked him, a little relieved at the notion, truth be told. Rory was fun to hang out with, but she hadn’t sensed any chemistry between them.
“Someday, sure. But right now, I’m busy. I work fifty-plus hours a week, and when I get off work, I want to be able to do this.” He’d gestured around him at the group on the lake shore. “Come and go as I please, crash when I’m tired, stay up late if I’m not. I know I’m not ready for the responsibility of being a dedicated husband and father. It may sound selfish, but it’s the truth.”
“Actually,” Addison had said with a shrug. “It sounds responsible to me. Like you know exactly where you are right now, what season of your life you’re in.”
Rory had bumped his shoulder against hers. “I think you and I are going to get along nicely, Miss Wedgewood.”
And they did. Barb took every opportunity to mother her, especially once Andrea and Jeff moved away, and she and Rory treated each other with the casual ease of adult siblings.
Barb glanced back at the man who’d accompanied her to the counter. “Addison, you’ve probably met Noel Stewart by now. We were seatmates, and he tells me he’s been flying in and out of this airport regularly over the last few months.” She waved him closer. “Noel, if you need help with absolutely anything to do with flying, Addison is your girl.”
“You’re my girl,” Addison quipped agreeably, attempting—and failing dismally—to play it cool. She flushed hotly. “I mean, I’m your girl. Well, not your girl. I’m not anyone’s girl.” Great. Could she make things any weirder? “And I’m not really a girl.” Yep, she could. “I’m an adult. A woman,” she finished lamely.
Barb’s eyes widened as her gaze bounced back and forth between Addison and Noel. “Well, just in case you haven’t, let me make the introductions official. Addison, this is Noel Stewart. Noel, this is my dear friend, Addison Wedgewood.”
Noel stepped forward with his hand outstretched, his smile a little pained. “Nice to meet you, Addison. And on this side of the counter,” he added. Thankfully, he said not a word about her mortifying rambling.
Probably trying to be polite while desperately wondering how to get away from Barb’s freaky friend. She shook hands with Noel, but only nodded, too afraid of what might slip out if she attempted to use words.
“I’m surprised you two haven’t run into each other ‘on this side of the counter,’ before now.” Barb’s smile was extra wide, a calculating gleam in her eyes. She looked a little scary, Addison thought. “Noel moved to Autumn Lake last November, Addison. He works at Carpe Diem. And Noel, this lovely young lady calls Autumn Lake home, too. Despite the fact that you’ve somehow not managed to run into each other out at the lake, you two just try telling me this isn’t a small world.”
Barb and her husband currently lived in Evansville, but they had a summer cottage on the south shore for most of their marriage and considered Autumn Lake their home away from home. In fact, Rory lived in the lake house year-round.
“Wow. Small world, indeed,” Noel said, his smile growing warmer. “I haven’t spent a lot of time on the south shore yet, but that’s on my agenda, now that winter is starting to ease up a little.”
“Oh, don’t count on that,” Barb said with a chuckle. “Lady Winter is known for being an unreliable narrator in these parts. Sunshine and daffodils one day, ice storms and seventy-mile-an-hour winds the next. Don’t fall for her wily ways; she’ll mess with us well into April or even early May.”
Barb was right about that. In spite of forecasted warmer weather on the horizon, Addison knew by personal experience not to put away her winter wear until after May Day.
“So you two met through the resort, then?” she asked, frantically searching for a way to distract Barb from playing matchmaker. Because Addison had a feeling that was exactly what was going on behind that scary, calculating look on her friend’s face.
Barb nodded. “We did.” She put a hand up to the side of her mouth like she was divulging a juicy bit of gossip to Addison. In a mock whisper, she added, “The resort hired him to help them figure out why they aren’t making money yet.”
“Oh. I—I see.” Addison wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that.
Noel chuckled and shook his head. “That’s not exactly why they hired me,” he countered. “I’d say it’s more that they want to know where the money they are making is going.”
“I see,” Addison said again, although, truth be told, she didn’t see at all. The fancy resort across the lake was a bit like a world unto its own. It certainly didn’t cater to the working-class folk who called Autumn Lake home. In fact, there were strong undercurrents of us-versus-them between the south shore locals and the north shore residents, a sentiment that had been perpetuated by the high-end North Shore housing development that had gone up on that side of the lake in the last couple of years. The mansions were essentially mini versions of the resort, and the people who bought those sprawling lots were the same people who vacationed at places like Carpe Diem. Inside the resort were several boutique stores, and last year, with the opening of a Fresh Thyme Market, a gas station, and a Country Club on that side of the lake, The North Shore community was practically self-sufficient. Other than for events like Autumn Lake's Fall Festival, the Christmas parade, or the Summer Lights Celebration, there weren’t too many reasons for them to come to the south shore.
Autumn Lake had some wonderful shops in the downtown area, a few quaint restaurants that offered delicious fare, and during the tourist season, all kinds of lake activity rentals and services. But the resort had established themselves as a self-contained entity, and because they had their own version of everything—their own watercraft rentals, their own tour guides, their own restaurants, salons, clothing stores, and more—the money that should have flooded the community just circulated back into its own coffers.
In Addison’s admittedly na?ve opinion, that was part of the problem. The company came across as stingy and elitist, and the community that had originally welcomed them now saw them as intruders. What comes around, goes around , she thought, considering the possible financial instability that Noel and Barb were eluding to.
Of course, she didn’t say so out loud, but the look on her face must have conveyed something of what she was thinking, because Barb said, “I think Addison could give you a little insight from her perspective, Noel.” That gleam in her eyes made Addison take a step backward, subconsciously distancing herself from whatever plan the older woman was brewing. “She wasn’t born and bred in Autumn Lake, but she’s been there long enough to be a part of the inner circle. The locals love her and think of her as one of their own.”
“Barb,” Addison admonished in a voice made squeaky with embarrassment.
Barb reached over and patted Addison’s arm. “Well, it’s true, honey. You are a jewel of a girl, and everyone thinks so.” To Noel, she said, “So why not now? Why don’t we take advantage of this coincidental encounter? You’re off in a few minutes, right, Addison?” She didn’t wait for confirmation. “My husband won’t be home until late this evening, and Noel, you were just telling me that you’re light on companionship in town.”
Addison saw his eyes widen at Barb’s words. The poor guy obviously had no clue that he’d befriended the Midwest’s most aggressive matchmaker in Barb Selway.
“We can go grab a bite to eat together, and you can get a local’s perspective on what makes Autumn Lake so wonderful,” Barb continued, charging ahead without giving them the option of refusing. “Have either of you been to Shoot the Moon? It’s my favorite soup and sandwich place, and I don’t know about you, but not having to cook tonight sounds like just the thing.” Barb slid her hand down Addison’s arm and grabbed her fingers in a quick squeeze. “I have pictures of the most beautiful grandchildren in the world to show you.”
How was she supposed to say no to that? Addison shot an apologetic glance at Noel, who looked blindsided. She smiled helplessly, then to Barb said, “I guess that—that would be nice.” Why, oh why, didn’t she have a cat she had to get home to feed? She glanced down at her uniform. Under the button-down blue shirt, she wore a cranberry red turtleneck with tiny roses all over it. It would suffice, she supposed, although if she’d had any inkling that she’d be having supper with Noel Stewart, she’d have chosen something else, something a little less… matronly. She had some face powder and lipstick in her purse, though, and maybe even a tube of mascara, although how old it might be, she had no idea. She reached up and touched the clip at the back of her head; she could tell her hair had gone from sleek chignon to crooked messy bun over the course of the day. She’d just run a brush through it and leave it down. At least it was freshly washed.
Besides, beggars couldn’t be choosers, right? Without Barb’s well-meaning manipulation, supper with Noel Stewart would never even be on the table. “No pun intended,” Addison said aloud.
“What was that, dear?” Barb cocked her head and smiled bemusedly.
Fortunately, at the exact same time, Noel said, “That works for me,” and Barb’s head swiveled toward him.
“Wonderful. Oh, I’m so glad I don’t have to eat alone this evening. And it’ll be my treat; I insist.” She lifted a hand and waved off Noel and Addison’s protests. “I’m missing those babies something fierce and having you two join me will help keep my mind occupied until Craig gets home.” She checked her watch. “I’ve got baggage, so by the time I gather my things and call for a ride, you’ll be off the clock, won’t you?” she asked Addison.
“I should be, but I can give you a ride, Barb. Especially since you’re buying my meal.” She’d learned long ago not to argue with the woman about footing a bill. “I’ll just meet you down at baggage claim.”
“I didn’t even think about that. Perfect. Thank you, honey.” Barb turned to Noel. “What about you? How are you planning on getting back to the resort this evening? Maybe Addison could give you a ride home, too.”
“Barb!” Her voice came out an octave higher than usual. The woman was too much.
Noel smiled graciously. “I appreciate the offer, but I have my car in long-term parking here.”
“Oh, that’s too bad,” Barb said, pretending not to understand Addison’s imploring ‘stop-interfering-please-please-please’ look. “Do you have something in your eye, honey?” she asked.
Had it not been for the young couple who approached at just that moment, asking for directions to their connecting flight, Addison might have said something she’d regret. As Rory had told her, his mother meant well, but man-oh-man. Once the woman got a notion in her noggin, she was like a dog with a bone. It’s what made her a good businesswoman. It also made her a good friend, too, Addison had to admit. When Barb decided to adopt you, there was no trial period. It was a done deal.
“We’ll meet you at baggage claim,” Barb said, as she hoisted her pretty handbag a little higher up on her shoulder and started down the corridor.
“Are you okay with all of this?” Noel asked her as he made slow work of smoothing the strap of his messenger bag.
“You’re fine,” Addison insisted. “I mean, it’s fine. Yes. I’m okay with it. Sorry.”
Noel grinned. “You don’t need to apologize to me. I’m looking forward to it.” Then he lifted a hand in a quick wave and turned to catch up with Barb.
“Natalie is going to freak out,” Addison whispered, imagining her friend’s reaction when she told her in the morning. She still could hardly believe it herself. She stepped around behind the counter again to sign out of the station. The last of the travelers had trickled out of the Jetway, and she had several things to do before she could clock out.
As she slipped her arms into her coat fifteen minutes later, she said softly, “I’m going out to eat with Noel Stewart tonight.” The very notion of it, especially when put into words, pulled her up short and made her breath hitch.
“And Barb Selway,” she reminded herself, but that didn’t make her pulse slow even the tiniest bit.