Landon turns around with a bruised lip and a big smile. A tooth from his bottom row is missing. He smacks the bag of ice to his lip and gives me a thumbs up.
My mouth stretches in horror. I don’t understand how Landon has so much chill right now.
“What?” he asks.
I hold up the tooth in the palm of my hand. A light whine echoes from my mouth.
“Oh,” he says, plucking it from my hand. “Thanks! Those things are expensive.”
My forehead scrunches in confusion. “What?”
“It’s a fake tooth,” Landon says. “I lost my original one when I played hockey. Cliché, I know.” He clasps it between two fingers.
My breath shallows, and Landon cups my anxiety-hitched shoulder. “It’s really not that big of a deal. It’s not the first time it’s been knocked loose. To be honest, this is not my first fight.”
“I have so many questions,” I say.
“Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking,” a man’s voice announces over the intercom. “Unfortunately, since we had an incident, we will have to divert to the nearest airport. We ask you to remain calm and seated with your seatbelt fastened. We will hopefully get you back on your way to San Francisco with minimal delays.”
Lots of yelling and chattering erupt over the plane. Jade stops every few rows to answer questions. There’s lots of complaining, and I notice one lucky son-of-a-bitch is still passed out with his mouth wide open.
Everyone is upset. All because Landon stood up to a man with hot, sweating feet.
I’ve never witnessed anything sexier.
“When were you in fights before?” I ask, resting my arm on his shoulder.
Landon shrugs and says, “I once saw this guy who would not leave this woman alone at a bar. I approached him, and the woman told me he was an ex-boyfriend who would not leave her alone. The man punched me, so I punched him back. Sprained my hand, but it was totally worth it.”
It doesn’t make sense what I do next. I do it anyway.
I grab his face and kiss him.
“Ow,” he yelps as my lips touch his. I pull away, and he breaks into a smile. “Just kidding. I’m a tank.”
He grabs my face and kisses me softly, and the world falls away.
4
My kiss with Landon is the absolute peak of this flight. After the kiss, all hell breaks loose, and it’s rolling downhill into a pile of shit.
Someone delirious from sleep deprivation rants about the plane landing, mentioning a granddaughter they haven’t seen in two years. Others complain how this ruins plans, how their whole day is ruined.
We were going to land in the middle of the night, but okay.
Jade still works for every penny of her meager salary by calming irate passenger after irate passenger. Smelly Feet Guy is still barricaded successfully by a large man who obviously lifts. Landon and I begin taking bets on who might cry when landing or if Grandma will stand up with clenched fists since she feels moved by the spirit of her rant.
“People are the absolute worst,” Landon says. “Smelly Feet Guy…that lady.” He points to the front of the plane. Grandma still loudly proclaims her dissatisfaction with this flight.
“We can just make out until this plane lands,” I suggest.
He runs his palm against the back of my neck. I know now what the connection truly feels like, how it warms me to my toes and through my limbs. My entire body is on high alert.
“Oh really,” Landon says. “With this crowd, don’t you think they will complain?”
“Oh, absolutely.” I point to my other rowmate, who is awake, wearing large headphones and watching a dark window. If he could crawl into the wall, he would in a second. “I feel bad for him.”
“I feel bad for all of us.”
“You were the one who instigated a fight. This is, technically, your fault,” I tease, poking Landon in the stomach.
“Hey, he was gassing people with his feet. What was I supposed to do?”
Then, a woman turns around in front of us. We have not heard a peep from her this entire flight, but now we see her arched, painted-on eyebrows and puffy hair.
“Thank you so much for telling that guy off. I have asthma, and the stench was slowly killing me.”
“See?!” Landon screeches, holding his hands out. “You’re welcome, ma’am.”
His politeness ignites another part of me.
“Just kiss me already,” I say.
“Well, okay.” His lips touch mine again, and all the chatter and activity falls away again.
We fall into a trance, like a couple of high school kids at a house party. The captain interrupts our dream momentarily.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we are waiting for clearance to divert to Waterloo Regional Airport. The local authorities have been contacted and will board the plane once we have landed. Please remain seated until I instruct that you are allowed to move about the cabin.”
“You’re a goner,” I say. “You’re definitely going off this plane in handcuffs.”
The woman in front of us turns back again. She says, “I will vouch for you. The other guy struck first.”
“See? At least you have faith in me,” he says to the woman.
“Of course! How long have you two been together?” The woman waggles her pointer finger between us.
“Oh, we just met,” I say.
“I don’t even know her middle name,” Landon says. He watches my eyes, waiting for me to offer it.
I just want to be coy. Enough of me has been vulnerable on this flight.
“Nope,” I say. “You have to earn the middle name. It’s embarrassing.”
“Well, I will tell you mine. It’s Bernard.”
“Landon Bernard Walcott,” I say. “Definitely has a ring to it.”
“Erin Blank Campbell. Has a ring to it,” he says.
“You seem perfect for each other!” the woman says. “It must be fate. I always love a good love story. Have you seen the movie Serendipity? One of my favorites!”
When we don’t answer her, she turns around slowly.
“She had to bring up fate.” He shakes his head.
“Are you serious right now? How is this not fate? Not meant to happen?”
Landon rests his head against the headrest. “I have met some wonderful people. Randomly. I do not really believe people come into your life for a reason or it was meant to happen. We are all trying to figure it out on our own, look for meaning in randomness, and there isn’t. All you have to do is live your life with integrity and seize opportunities as they present themselves. I am the master of my own destiny that I create. It wasn’t created for me. There’s no grand plan for me, or you, or anyone else in the universe.”
“So, what happens when we finally get to San Francisco?” I brace for the answer.
“We’ll see what happens,” he says, kissing the tip of my nose. He intertwines his fingers with mine over the armrest as we watch the chaos unfold as the plane feels suspended in the air, making tiny movements forward.
Continuing to canoodle with Landon is a bad idea. I know myself, and this situation just spells disaster. A hopeless romantic, I have already pictured the future with this stranger who became a kissing partner. I have tried (and failed) many times to lower my expectations for people, meet men where they are, but I inevitably go to rainbows and happily ever afters.
Maybe this meeting on a plane is completely random and should be treated as such. So, when my sister has babies and they ask, “Auntie, what is the craziest thing to happen to you?” I can reference this flight. I can talk about a dashing app designer who stood up to a man with horrific-smelling feet, how Zack Morris the Chihuahua ran away from his owner, and how we ended up in Iowa. How I never saw Landon again after this, but it was perfect as a brief love affair.
Once he leaves the plane, he will wave, and San Francisco will swallow him, never to reappear in my life. He will be something I constantly question about reality. Did this magic real
ly happen? Did I get seated next to the most engaging, wittiest, funniest man just for him to slip away?
My heart aches, but I know that I must prepare myself now. He thinks this is random. He thinks this is not meant to be.
I must think the same—no matter how much everything in my body says this is right.
The captain eventually gets clearance after it feels like we’ve been circling for an hour. When we finally land, it is the smoothest landing I’ve ever experienced. Instead of cheering, the landing elicits loud groans and sounds of dissatisfaction.
The authorities immediately appear and remove Smelly Feet Guy. I thought it would be exciting, but really, he goes peacefully. They lead him off in handcuffs, and there are baby cheers in the crowd. Shoeless and ashamed, he disappears from the plane. The angst in the passengers dissipates. For now.
We sit in a murmur of chatter as passengers wait for the plane to take off again.
“How long until we take off again, do you think?” I ask.
“At least two hours. Saddle up,” Landon says. “We should ask each other questions.”
“Right,” I say. Scanning my mind, all I can come up with is, “What’s your favorite food?”
“Sushi,” Landon says. “What about you?”
“Pizza,” I say. “Very basic.”
“Pizza is a classic,” he says. “Least favorite food?”
“Um, kale. It’s not good. You?”
“Chocolate mousse.”
I sit back, aghast. I did not see that coming. “Why?”
“The texture,” he says, shaking his head with his tongue outstretched. “Also, I had a traumatic experience with a frenemy in elementary school who smeared it all over my butt at a birthday party. Everyone thought I shit my pants. For the record, I did not shit my pants.”
“Fair enough,” I say.
“Favorite thing to do in the city?”
“I love coffee shops attached to bookstores. If I have a weekend afternoon free, I get a latte and peruse the shelves. I could be there for hours.”
“Nice,” Landon says. “Place you’ve always wanted to visit?”
I know immediately. “The Santorini Islands in Greece.”
Landon nods. I also add, “Barcelona. Italy. Basically all over Europe.”
“Europe is so fun and beautiful. Have you ever been there?”
I shake my head. “It’s just a dream at this point, I guess. I barely have enough money to afford an apartment in the city. I have no idea when I’ll have money to travel.”
We sit quietly, and Landon leans out into the aisle.
“What do you think is taking so long?” He checks his watch. “It’s been forty-five minutes.”
I check my watch as well. We should’ve been home by now.
Cassie. Oh dear God, I need to let her know.
I awaken my phone and find my text thread with Cassie. I explain the situation, that we were grounded, and I have no idea when we will get home. Then, I drop a juicy nugget.
Erin: I am also seated next to the dreamiest, nicest, cutest guy ever. WE MADE OUT.
I turn my phone over. A smirk crosses my lips.
“You are up to something,” he says.
“I just told my roommate about you,” I say.
“You did. What did you say?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” My phone vibrates, and I turn it over.
Cassie: pictures or it didn’t happen
“She wants a picture of you,” I tell him.
“Well, let’s give this roommate what she wants.” Landon purses his lips and squints one eye with an arched brow. Laughing, I snap the photo and send it to my friend.
Cassie: dear lord he is cute
Me: I know right???!!! I have no idea when I’ll be home. Go to bed. I’ll make it home okay.
Cassie: Are you sure?
Me: Positive
I slip my phone back into my carry-on and turn to Landon, whose chin is propped on his hands.
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah,” I say. “I’ll have to find my own way home—whenever we get home.”
“I can take you,” he offers. “I left my car at SFO.”
“That’s really sweet of you, but you don’t have to…”
He silences me with his pointer finger against my lips. “We have already swapped spit and bonded over several things. Zack Morris. Smelly Feet. You survived a stuck bathroom door situation. The least I can do is drive you home.”
“Okay,” I say. I pause before I say the next bit. “You’ll know where I live. We can’t test fate.”
“I don’t want to test fate; I want to see you again. So, I want to know where you live. I would like your phone number—if you want to give me that information, of course.”
“I do want you to have it,” I say.
“Good,” he says. “May I kiss you again? It’s been at least an hour.”
I nod, and he kisses me again, holding my chin. Our lips move together, in perfect sync, and it’s just him and me in this dance of tongues and lips.
The woman in the row in front of us sighs. She cannot see us since her face is forward. I wonder if she is holding up a phone in selfie mode so she can see.
More time passes, more kisses, and more speculation.
This whole time, we had a celebrity on the flight.
Savannah Watson, up-and-coming country star, stands up with her guitar and comes into coach to play to the masses. She plays her beautiful hit single “Home Again,” and everyone cheers. She even plays some Dolly Parton. I’ve never been a country fan, but anything at this point is entertaining.
A crowd huddles ten rows up, near where Zack Morris’s owner sits. I wonder if people are so bored they’re petting a petrified Chihuahua.
More time passes. I feel like I will die on this plane. Jade empties her entire snack supply to anyone who asks. I have had so many stale plane pretzels I’m as swollen as a balloon.
Then, the announcement everyone has been waiting for.
“Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. The plane is having mechanical issues, so we will be deboarding the plane and placing you in accommodations for the night. We deeply apologize for the inconvenience.”
“Oh my God,” I say. “I’ve never been to Iowa.”
“I have been once. Nice people. I have never heard of Waterloo.”
“This is the wildest flight I’ve ever been on.”
“At least there’s some closure,” Landon says. “We can finally get off this plane.”
“True,” I say.
It takes almost as long to get off the plane as it took sitting there on the tarmac. I grab my day bag full of my suit, and Landon grabs his carry-on. When we reach the front of the plane, he reaches back and grabs my hand.
A motel room. A bed. I sure hope this means what I think it means.
5
Somehow, we end up at a small motel on the outskirts of town since Waterloo didn’t expect a planeful of people to touch down and need rooms for the night. It is so dark and we’re surrounded by cornfields that creepy children can walk out of, at any moment.
I do not know how this is being paid for or how we ended up here. My eyelids grow heavy with each change, my body shutting down as a mutiny against what my brain wants.
And what my vagina wants.
I recognize a few others from the plane in this tiny lobby. An older gentleman holding a John Grisham hardback with his arms wrapped tightly around him. A young couple huddled together since this room is freezing. The doors keep opening, bringing with it a gust of wind that chills me.
It’s the only thing keeping me awake.
We let the man go, and then we let the couple go. Landon winks at me, like everything is going to be okay. His hand has not left my hand since we left the plane. Together.
When it is finally our turn, the motel clerk holds up his hand. “Are you together? I only have one room left. With one bed.”
“I…uh,” I sa
y, and then Landon steps forward.
“I can just go back to the airport. It’s fine,” he says. I hear him whisper under his breath, “I just hope Uber operates this late in this town.”
“Landon, come to my room.” My heart beats wildly in my chest as he looks up with a complex swirl of emotions on his face. He doesn’t know if it’s a good idea. He might think it’s a great idea.
“I’m not imposing…”
“Absolutely not,” I say, and I turn back to the motel clerk. “We’re together.”
“Okay,” he says, punching in numbers. They ask for a credit card, and Landon steps in since the airline promised accommodations. It is all sorted in front of me, and I cannot register the outcome.
All I know is it’s nice to be taken care of.
When we get the keys, Landon takes my luggage like the gentleman he is. We find our room at the absolute opposite end of the white building. Some rooms are quiet; some still have the TV blaring. We pass a room where faint moans waft out of the windows, and I blush.
Would that be us?
“This is it,” he says, pushing the keycard into the slot. It takes a couple tries before the door beeps and we are inside our room for the night.
One king-sized bed in the middle of the room.
“I’ll take the floor,” Landon blurts out immediately.
“It’s fine. The bed looks big enough.” I sit down, my body responding to the moment of rest. If I sit for too long, I will curl up and fall asleep, ruining any chances of sex with this enigmatic stranger. Looking at the carpet, I will definitely put socks on.
Landon crosses his arms, scanning the room.
“This is less than ideal,” he says.
My cheeks flush. Does he mean the quality of the room, or…
“It’s fine, I…”
“I’m hungry,” he blurts out, pulling at his wallet in his jeans. “It’s been a while since I had questionable vending machine food. Do you want anything? A soda? More pretzels?”
I laugh.
“Whatever you get is fine,” I say. Landon walks toward me and kisses me awkwardly on the head. He leaves, and I am left alone.
My mother would be flapping her arms in anxiety.
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