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Don´t You Just Hate Airline Food?
It was a tough morning for him that day, not only because it was Monday or because he was running late to the JFK. He had forgotten his suitcase at the Four Seasons lobby but by the time he noticed the cab´s trunk was empty there wasn´t much to do, he really had to catch this flight. He had promised to show up at her daughter’s eighth birthday party and he had not seen her for more than a year after his ex-wife moved to France. She had met this Parisian photographer which was artsy and adventurous and all of the things he never was for her. After all he was just an accountant from New Jersey who barely stepped out of his office but that´s another story.
He entered the airport with only his passport, a boarding pass and a half empty paper cup of coffee he grabbed from the hotel, which tasted more of tap water. He was a slim looking guy in his thirties neither ugly nor handsome, just average and he was wearing what seemed to be an old suit. He checked in, passed through security and waited at the gate for about an hour while thinking of how much he hated airports.
He heard the boarding call, stepped into the plane and smirked at the stewardess. He had never been in a plane this big and he certainly had never traveled for seven straight hours. In fact, the farthest away he had ever been from home was Providence and he wasn´t precisely excited about it. But this time it was different, he was absolutely exhausted with his job and decided to take a month off from July to August to travel with his daughter Emma. He had planned an exciting trip with her across France, Switzerland and Italy, he really did miss her.
He got to his seat on the side of window and was pleased to notice how the two remaining seats on his side were empty. Fifteen minutes later a girl stepped into the plane. She had light brown hair, snow-white skin and beautiful green eyes. She must be in her twenties he thought and he noticed she had puffy red eyes and a slightly bruised cheekbone on the right side of her face. She noticed him and he looked away as she walked straight to him. She took the seat next to the aisle leaving a seat between them.
The plane finally took off and she began to cry silently. She closed her eyes and fell asleep. About two hours later the stewardess came with the food trolley waking up the girl. He ordered Jack Daniel´s and a glass of water while loosening his tie and she didn’t have anything. He was really curious about her and considering the long distance of the flight he decided to talk to her.
-Hello I´m Dean, what´s your name?
She didn´t respond, he thought it was silly, why would they care to know each other´s names? They would probably never see each other again.
He forgot about it and opened his food pack, it consisted of a bag a baby carrots, a piece of chicken and some pasta. He took a bite of the chicken and then put the fork down.
-Ugh! Don´t you just hate airline food?
She smiled but it was a sad smile, like a smile you give to someone who is sick.
- I guess I do.
Her voice was dry
- Where are you from?
- It doesn´t matter anymore.
She said it so sadly as if the question itself touched her deeply.
- I´m sorry to hear that I guess my home doesn´t matter to me either if that makes you feel any less sad.
He meant it, after his divorce he was unhappy and living in the same place of his broken marriage. It wasn’t
home just a house. Just walls and a ceiling.
- I´m fine, it´s just… I don´t know maybe I just need some time away from everything that´s all.
He could see the suffering in her eyes, the fear and the uncertainty. She touched her bruise carefully and slowly removed a ring from her finger.
She fell asleep the whole flight and when they got to Paris he noticed she picked up three big suitcases. They said goodbye and wished each other a safe flight back to America as well, but deep inside he knew she was never going back.
