Don’t I Know You?
Don’t I Know You?
I fight down the angry response brewing inside me and catch up to Trey at the door. We are the last to board, and everyone is staring at us. We slide into our seats—aisle and middle on either side, just before the first exit row—and get the kids squared away. Trey is already looking pale.
“It’s going to be fine.” I reach across the aisle and pat his hand.
“Tell me what happened to the other plane.”
The edge in his voice makes Neve squirm next to me.
“You’re scaring the kids,” I whisper.
“I am not. What happened?”
“I have no idea, other than I assume that we booked so late we were low man on the totem pole and got bumped. Probably needed to move some crew around. Really, it’s no big deal.”
“Oh, yeah. No big deal.”
It is not like Trey to be unreasonable. I know he’s spooked, but his sudden shift from excited dad to freaked-out flier rattles me, too. He puts his head back and closes his eyes. He’s biting the inside of his cheek, a sure sign of anger.
I need to get him calmed down before he gets too upset.
Trey is usually such an even-tempered man, but every once in a while, he will get tuned up by the littlest thing and explode.
It’s epic—a rage. Unusual and rare, but it does happen.
He doesn’t scream; he goes cold, icy, cutting. A cruel remoteness that is unsettling.
It’s all stress. I know that. The finance work he does for my aunt and uncle’s company is complicated and intricate, with high expectations from their very wealthy, very secretive clientele.
It’s a level of professional perfection very few can manage, and of course, Trey expects everything to work as flawlessly as he does.
This is yet another reason why we don’t travel much. There’s too much uncertainty. Add in his nerves about being locked in a flying metal tube, and it’s simpler to let him drive if he has to go out of town.
“You want an Ativan?” I ask quietly. “Just to take the edge off?”
“No. Stop nagging. I’ll be fine.”
The flight attendants go through their spiel, and then we’re off for the quick flight to Atlanta. The pilot comes on and warns that the air on the way down to Georgia is choppy. We’re going to be flying above some storms, and the flight attendants will be seated for the duration.
Trey audibly groans at this. Four, always willing to be his father’s parrot, follows suit.
“Trey, stop.” I hand over my iPad and headphones.
“You two watch something to distract yourselves.” I’ve never been a fan of giving the kids screens as a diversion, but as we take off and the plane jolts and slides through the sky, I don’t particularly care about my own rules right now.
Anything that will take their minds off the turbulence helps.
Trey is useless, ignoring the iPad and holding on to the arm of the seat with his left hand, squeezing Four to his right side. Neve handles things better—she can’t see the naked fear on Trey’s face—though when a woman behind us screams at a hefty jolt, she says softly, “Mommy, are we okay?”
“We’re fine, sweetheart. Just potholes in the sky. Think about something pleasant. We’ll be able to see the Vatican covered in Christmas lights! It’s going to be so pretty. You can do your dance in Saint Peter’s Square. I’ll make a video.”
That does it; she starts chattering a choreography she makes up on the spot, a chassé en avant sequence across the piazza, jetés and petit sauts, and a piqué arabesque (“step, step, glissade . . . grand jeté!”). I envision her twirling like a snowflake across the piazza. It is a beautiful image.
Thankfully, the flight is over quickly. We are up and down in less than thirty minutes, the whole plane breaking into applause when the wheels hit the tarmac. It only takes five minutes to taxi to the gate. The overhead seat belt light clicks off with a ding, and we’re free.
“Okay, guys, that was fun! Like a roller coaster in the sky, right?”
Always the cheerleader. That’s what a mom is supposed to be.
I start gathering up our bags. I am bent over, picking up some crackers that fell on the floor, when I hear a woman’s voice exclaim, “Andrew? Andrew Locke? Is that really you?”
I can’t read the tone and straighten to scrutinize the woman properly.
She is wearing a well-cut navy pantsuit and has dark-blond hair scraped back in a ponytail.
She is older than me, probably in her late thirties.
She has smile lines bracketing her lips, and hazel eyes. I’ve never seen her before.
Trey is staring at her in confusion, and my first thought is Old girlfriend.
I don’t know whether to be jealous or amused.
Trey rarely, if ever, talks about his life before us.
We never needed to play the “who were you with before me” game.
From the moment we met, the second we first kissed, that was it; we were locked together like LEGOs.
He’s two years older than me; of course he had a life before we met.
I mean, I’m human, I’ve wondered, but he told me enough about his upbringing that I know his past brings him pain, so we steer clear.
Fine by me. I’ve never particularly wanted to detail all of my exploits for him, either.
His silence, though, is bordering on rude.
“Andrew, I can’t believe you don’t recognize me. Eden Barrow,” the woman says, tapping her chest. When he doesn’t respond, her voice drops an octave. “Chloe’s sister?” She turns to me. “Andrew and I went to high school together. Has he not told you about Chloe?”
“Told me about who?” I ask, but Trey cuts us off.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know you, and I don’t know anyone named Chloe.
And I apologize, but we are in a huge rush.
Connecting flight. Different terminal. We have to move pretty fast to get to the gate.
You understand. Sorry for the confusion.
” And without a second glance back, he grabs the bags from my arms and pushes me in front of him, hustling us up the aisle and off the plane.
We hit the jet bridge and maneuver past the waiting wheelchairs, then he’s off, practically sprinting.
Four loves this, chasing after his dad. Neve and I follow, slower.
At the top of the jet bridge, he’s waiting for us, pale and tense. “Come on, slowpokes. Let’s go.”
We start toward the train. “You could have talked to her for a minute. She clearly recognized you from somewhere, high school or otherwise. I don’t mind.”
“I mind. She’s creepy as hell.”
He doesn’t speak again until we’re on the train to the international terminal, and even then, it’s a mumbled “Fuck, we’re late.”
“Language, hon.”
He meets my eyes, the first time he’s really looked at me since I told him about the plane change.
“This is what happens when plans are altered at the last second,” he says ominously.
“What, beautiful strangers approach you and try to connect?” Now I am fighting back a laugh. He is so uncomfortable. I think maybe he did know the woman and is trying to save face. “You can tell me the truth, I won’t get mad. What did you do, leave her sister brokenhearted at the prom?”
He looks over his shoulder, then whispers, “Brook, I’m not kidding. I have no idea who that was. But the way she was looking at me, at us . . . She stared at me the entire flight. Walked up the aisle and came back to stare again. It gave me the willies. She clearly thought I was someone I’m not.”
“But she knew your name.”
“She probably overheard us talking. She was totally spying on us.” He shudders.
“Babe, I think you’re overreacting a little. She seemed really friendly.”
“Yeah, friendly as a heart attack.” The train stops. “Let’s hurry, please. I’m not feeling well.”
Oh, poor guy. That’s what’s going on. Not only is he an extremely anxious flier, but his stomach is upset, too. Add in the stress of this trip and a stranger? “Are you going to barf? The flight was pretty bumpy.”
He resists my sympathy. “No. Just . . . we have to go.” That tone is back, like I’ve done something wrong.
I’m going to have to deal with it once we get on the next plane.
Walk him away from the edge. I have my ways, but we’re in public, so I’ll have to get creative.
And figure out what set him off in the first place, back in Nashville.
I’d blame his mood on bumping into the woman who claimed to be from his past, but he was already tuned up before we got on the flight.
I carry Neve up the escalator, and Trey holds on to Four with a viselike grip.
This is not the most auspicious start to the trip.