Friday Night Flights

by Susan X Meagher

  She entered her room the usual way, through the barn-style door, and flopped down on the bed, still in her coat. She had almost everything she needed in her room, but had never put in a refrigerator. Now her throat was parched from yelling, but she didn’t really want to have to make small talk with her mom. But cupping her hands under the bathroom faucet was her only other option, and that wasn’t very appealing.

  With a grunt, she dropped her feet to the floor, stood, then straightened her hair. As she walked into the house, she noticed that the usual sweet scents that wafted from the kitchen were faint. Her mom had obviously finished her baking and was letting things cool while she washed up.

  “Hi,” Casey said, entering the room to walk over to the refrigerator.

  “Who are you?” her mom said, with only the slightest sign of a tease to her tone. “You haven’t been home for dinner in so long I don’t even bother cooking for three any more.”

  Casey shrugged. “You don’t need to cook for me tonight, either.” She pulled out a bottle of water and started to chug it, not stopping until it was empty. As she put it in the recycling bin, she said, “I’m going bowling at six, so I’ll grab something there.”

  “What’s wrong?” Her mom grasped the sleeve of her jacket and kept her from taking another step.

  “Nothing. I just had a hard day. I’m going to take a nap before I have to go.”

  “You can tell me to mind my own business, Casey, but I don’t like it when you lie right to my face. You’re obviously upset about something.”

  Sighing, she turned to face her mother. “Fine. I had an argument with someone. Now I’m going to go stew about it until I figure out what went wrong. Okay?”

  “Was it Avery?” She clucked her tongue. “It had to be, since she’s the only person you see anymore.” She stepped in front of Casey and put her hand on her chin, tilting it left and right to get a good look at her. “I know you’re crazy about that baby, but don’t trick yourself into thinking Avery’s the one for you, honey. She’s not.”

  “I know that, Mom. That’s not what this is about.” She pulled away to go back to her room, with her mother adding one parting shot. “The first time you ran into her, you should have slapped her in the face and kept right on walking. She was a mean child, and mean children turn into mean adults.”

  ***

  After moping around for an hour, Casey pulled her phone out and called Kathy.

  “Oh, hi, Casey,” she said, sounding pretty chipper. “Dinner’s almost ready.”

  “Ooo, darn. I should have called earlier. I just found out I have to sub for one of the owners at a big trade show in the city.”

  “Ugh. That sounds awful.”

  “Yeah. I’m not looking forward to it. I’m going to take off now so I don’t have to get up before dawn to get there.”

  “But it’s five o’clock. Won’t traffic be bad in both directions?”

  “Not too,” she said, even though it definitely would be. “I want to get going, and my traffic app says the roads are clear.” She hated to lie, but if she was going to do it, she might as well go all the way.

  “Well, I hope you have fun. Will we see you tomorrow?”

  “Oh, no. I won’t be back until Sunday. Um…I really should go.”

  “Don’t let me stop you, honey. We’ll get by without you, but one of us might cry.” She laughed. “That’ll be me, but I’ll try to be brave.”

  “I’ll miss you all,” she said, on the verge of tears again. “See you next week.” She hung up, then texted one of the guys on her team, telling him she wasn’t going to make it to bowling. This was the perfect night to go to bed at six. Nobody could hurt or annoy her if she pulled the blanket up to her chin and kept her eyes closed.

  ***

  The next afternoon, after she’d picked Lisbet up from her mom’s, Avery took a detour on the way home. She didn’t believe Casey’s story about a trip to the city, but she didn’t want to express her doubts to her mom, who would never believe Casey would lie so brazenly.

  Casey’s street was dark as pitch, and the tasteful illumination along the driveway and at the base of a few trees and planters didn’t reveal much. But there was light coming from the windows in the barn-style doors, and if she strained her eyes, Avery could see Casey’s truck parked in front of her room.

  “Casey’s hiding from us, Lisbet,” she told the baby. “I think we should give her a day or two to herself, but if she doesn’t come back, we’re going to have to go get her.”

  ***

  Casey didn’t come back, or call, or text, and within a day Avery lost the residual bit of anger she’d carried. She honestly couldn’t imagine how she’d feel if she was in Casey’s position, mostly because she never would have been interested in getting involved with a baby she wasn’t related to. While she liked children in general, she wasn’t fascinated enough by other people’s kids to forge a close bond with one.

  But Casey wasn’t like her. She was kinder, for one thing, and more giving. And her love of kids was deeper and more universal than Avery’s. The part that caused Avery some shame now was that she’d actively welcomed Casey in. Every step of the way.

  They needed to have a long, civil discussion about this, and they needed to do it alone. Lisbet would freak out if she heard them yelling at each other, and given how they’d been on Wednesday, that was a definite possibility.

  She kicked around ideas, and finally came up with one, but she needed her mom to add another day of baby-watching to her schedule. As she had with every other request, her mom agreed immediately. So on Saturday morning, Avery dropped Lisbet off with enough milk for the entire day, and drove over to Casey’s, reaching her street at nine. Avery stayed in her car in the driveway and sent a text.

  We need to have a long, peaceful talk, and I know the perfect place to do that

  Just bring your swimsuit

  Now

  I’m in front of your room

  The text showed it had been read, and Casey emerged a few minutes later, carrying a tote bag. She walked over to the driver’s door as Avery lowered her window.

  Casey wasn’t smiling, but she didn’t look unhappy, either. “We’re not going swimming in the river, are we?”

  “That idea hadn’t crossed my mind. Today’s swim will only be painful if you want it to be.”

  “Strange, but okay. Want me to drive?”

  “I can. Come on. It’s freezing!”

  Casey walked over to the passenger side and slid into the seat. “Are you going to tell me where we’re going?”

  “I don’t think so. I’ve got the whole day planned, and I’d like to surprise you.”

  “The whole day?” Her eyes grew wide. “We’re going to talk about this for hours and hours?”

  “No, you silly thing. We’re going to talk, but we’re also going to relax.” She started the car and began to turn around.

  “I guess this means we’re speaking again?”

  “I definitely want to speak with you, and since you came out of your room, you must want to speak to me. But I’d like to wait until we get to where we’re going to talk about anything important.”

  “So… What? Should we stick to the weather?”

  “We could, but I downloaded a book of short stories by Lorrie Moore. I’m not sure you’ve read her, but I can guarantee you’ll like her work.”

  “We’re going far enough to listen to a book?”

  “Not the whole book, but we’ll get through a few stories. We’ve got about a two hour drive. Feel free to close your eyes and open your ears.” She paused a moment, and added, “And if you’re still angry, you might want to stuff a sock in it. You’ve got a volume setting that surprised the hell out of me.”

  Casey was clearly over the worst of it, since she revealed what looked like an embarrassed smile, then leaned her seat back to close her eyes.

  ***

  Casey had a long time to wonder about where they were going, but after being in the ca
r for two hours she knew only that they were in New Jersey. The only time she’d ever been in Jersey had been to go to the shore, but she was confident they were currently nowhere near the beach. Besides, lying on the beach in February wasn’t anyone’s idea of a good time.

  They finally pulled up in front of what looked like a modern apartment tower, and two guys raced out to open their doors and take the car away to a valet lot. Once inside the building, Avery walked up to a low counter, where smiling young people in matching golf shirts stood waiting. Before Casey could get another clue, she was signing some kind of waiver. Then they were guided to a spot where they had to leave their shoes, taking rubber wrist bands that electronically opened the tiny shoe-lockers. Moments later, they were in an elevator, going up just a few floors, standing there fully dressed, but in socks.

  “Any time you want, you can tell me what in the hell we’re doing…”

  “If you can’t figure it out when we get off this elevator, your powers of observation are pretty awful.”

  Just off the elevator lobby they entered a very modern, very large locker room, with quite a few naked or nearly naked women wandering around.

  Avery was smiling at her when Casey finally stopped scanning the whole place.

  “You’ve told me how much you love being in water,” Avery said, “and they’ve got all kinds here. Super hot, hot, cool, and cold. I thought we could start out in the saunas, though, so we’re nice and hot before we go outside.”

  “I can do that. I like being hot.”

  “We can pick up what they call leisure wear,” Avery said. “It’s a roomy shirt and shorts that look like something you’d be given in jail. But I like them better than wearing a swim suit in the heat.”

  “I’m not going to ask why you know what people wear in jail, but feel free to hook me up with the outfit.”

  ***

  There were five or six different kinds of saunas, with the temperature of each stated on a gauge attached to the outside. They’d visited a couple so far, but Casey could take as hot as they got, and she voted for the salt sauna next. 195 degrees was pretty hot, but she loved to sweat. Avery was game, and they went inside, finding there were no benches. “I guess we’re supposed to lie on the floor,” Casey said.

  “Down we go.” Avery sank to the woven mats that lined the floor. They settled themselves, with their heads on dense wooden blocks. It was pretty darned hot, but that felt great on a cold, snowy day. In minutes, Casey felt most of her lingering grouchiness leave her body as she started to sweat.

  She was impressed that Avery didn’t complain, but after about fifteen minutes even Casey’d had her fill. “I’m going to have to tap out.”

  “Oh, thank god,” Avery said, laughing weakly. “Another five minutes and you’d have had to carry me out.”

  They got up, and Avery gripped Casey’s arm for a moment. “I’d better drink up. Got a little light-headed there.”

  “Water, then the relaxation room,” Casey said. “Although every place we’ve been is relaxing.”

  They stood at the drinking fountain, gulping down water until they were both hydrated. Then Casey led the way to the very large room filled with reclining lounge chairs lined up to face a huge stripe of tall buildings across a narrow river.

  “Is that Manhattan?”

  Avery gave her an indulgent smile. “Yes, I believe it is. Are you really this unaware of your surroundings?”

  “My surroundings are Greene, Albany, Ulster, and Dutchess counties. This is way out of my range.”

  “Well, it’s right in mine,” Avery said, clearly waiting for Casey to decide on where to sit.

  The place was like a very large first-class airline cabin, with the chairs set apart in groups of two, separated by wide aisles. Everyone seemed to want to be close to the New York view, so she headed for the opposite end, where all of the chairs were empty.

  They were very close when they sat down, with their heads resting on built-in pillows. Casey pressed the buttons to recline her chair, and Avery followed until they were nearly horizontal. “Is this good?” Casey asked.

  “Perfection. This is a little like being on the pod,” she said. “Except the fabric doesn’t feel like something you could use to scrub your tub.”

  “Fifty bucks,” Casey said, her usual refrain when Avery complained about her sofa. “You can’t find a better sofa for fifty bucks.”

  They were quiet for a while, listening to the tranquilizing music. The room was supposed to be for napping, and Casey was pretty sure she could be out in a matter of minutes. But Avery reached over to place her hand on Casey’s leg. “I’m ready to talk if you are.”

  “If you can keep me awake…”

  Avery smiled gently. “If you can sleep, you must not be mad at me anymore.”

  “I’m really not—”

  “Well, I was pretty angry with you on Wednesday, but I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said. The parts where you weren’t cursing at me, that is.”

  “I’m really sorry—”

  “No need to apologize. You were upset, and I understand why. So let me just say this.” She faced her dead on. “You were right about something big. I am considering the move almost exclusively for myself.”

  “You are?” Casey stared at her. She’d never thought she’d concede to that.

  “If I’m being honest, I have to admit that.” She scooted a little closer and lowered her voice further. “And that’s not fair of me. I have to balance my desires with Lisbet’s needs, and with my parents’.” She squeezed Casey’s leg, adding, “And yours of course.”

  “I’m not on the list,” Casey said, sure that was true.

  “You are,” Avery stressed. “You’re important to both of us. I promise that if I could stay in Hudson and be happy long term, I’d make that choice without regret. But at this point in my life I worry that I won’t be satisfied. And my bigger worry is that my unhappiness will turn to bitterness, and that would filter down to Lisbet. I’m not willing to let that happen.”

  Casey turned to her, seeing how seriously she was taking the whole matter. “Do you really think that might happen?”

  “It might.” She stared out the window for a minute or two, even though all there was to see were grey skies and dull grey buildings. “I can’t honestly guess at how I’ll feel in a year or two, but there’s a chance I’ll be going stir crazy. For all of Brooklyn’s faults, I’ve never been bored.”

  “Tell me what you miss,” Casey said. “Be really specific.”

  Avery continued to stare out at the buildings like every other person in the lounge. While Casey wasn’t antagonistic to architecture, she truly didn’t understand why people were mesmerized by a bunch of buildings far enough away to make them look utterly lifeless. “It’s hard to explain,” Avery said, respectfully keeping her voice low, “but big cities excite me. They’re loud, and crowded, and often really inconvenient. But you feel some weird kind of accomplishment in not just surviving, but thriving.” She was quiet for a minute, then said, “People wonder how I can stand the noise, and the congestion, but that’s part of the allure.” She shrugged. “I love having a million things to do. I’m barely exaggerating,” she said. “When you consider all five boroughs, there have to be close to a million restaurants. Dozens of plays are put on every night of the week. Fantastic orchestras. World-class opera. Stunning museums. It’s all there, just waiting for you to choose.”

  “So… You did all that stuff? You went to the opera?”

  “Um…once,” she admitted. “They have a young patrons program where you can get discounted tickets. It was fun. A highlight, now that I think about it. Helena got a bunch of tickets and about ten of us went. We got all dressed up and everything.”

  “But you only went once in a decade.”

  “But if I’d fallen in love with it, I could have gone all of the time. They have rush tickets that are very affordable.”

  “But you didn’t fall in love with it, right? If
you had, you’d have gone back.”

  “You’re not getting my point. Living in the city is all about opportunity. Just because I’ve never actually been to Staten Island doesn’t mean I won’t go.”

  “But if you haven’t ever gone…”

  “Okay. You’re taking me literally, and I’m talking about something more figurative. I might only go to one event a month, but I can choose from thousands of things to pick the one that really excites me. That’s just not possible in Hudson. There are things to do, of course, but the offerings are so much more limited. You’ll agree with that, right?”

  “I guess. But why does every city person I talk to gush about how much they love the Hudson Valley? They act like they’re being held prisoner in the city, with weekend furloughs to the place they really want to be.”

  “Oh, they’re being dramatic. We love to complain about how horrible the city is, but you don’t see that many people actually pulling up stakes. Every single person I started with at work is still in the city.” She pressed her lips together and added, “Except for a few who had kids and moved to the suburbs.”

  “Mmm,” Casey said, trying not to smirk. “Well, you wouldn’t have anything in common with them.”

  “I don’t,” Avery stressed. “I would never move to a suburb. They’re the worst of both worlds to me. They give you none of the benefits of the city, and none of the benefits of a real, independent town. If I can’t live in Brooklyn, I’ll stay close to Hudson. I’m certain of that.”

  The atmosphere was so serene, and Casey was feeling so peaceful, that she found herself taking Avery’s hand and examining it while she spoke. It was pale, and kind of delicate, the kind of hand you’d see in an illustration representing a mother’s gentle touch. “Do you really think staying in Hudson could make you bitter?”

  “I worry about it,” Avery admitted. “I know I’ll be a better mother if I’m fulfilled, both intellectually and creatively, so I’m honestly trying to do the right thing for Lisbet by making sure I’m where I need to be.”