“Miss Parker, there is a note attached to the flowers.”
“Thank you, Tony.” She had already seen the note, she just wasn't sure if she wanted to read it.
“You have a six a.m. flight, correct?”
“Yes,” she replied.
“Sit back and relax. We have plenty of time and no traffic to fight to get there.”
She sat staring out awhile longer, until her curiosity got the best of her. Reluctantly, she picked up the note and swiped it open. It was brief and straight to the point. It read: I'm ready to talk. I hope you're ready to listen. Let's have dinner when you return.—William
Alecia held the note in her hand. A part of her wanted to cancel her trip. She wanted to know what William was thinking; the note gave her no indication. Alecia wasn't getting any younger, and knowing how William wanted to proceed with their relationship would free her, allow her to move out of limbo. She knew that he'd either be telling her he was leaving his wife and she'd fall into a state of bliss, or he'd say he wasn't leaving his wife and they'd need to go their separate ways. Then she'd be miserable. Either way, at least she would be able to move on.
Then, she thought, It's a good thing that I'm going on this trip. It shows William that I can go on with my life without him, forcing him to make a decision. He'll choose me. He'd better choose me.
As they pulled up to departures, Alecia found herself feeling excited about the weekend for the first time. She looked forward to hanging out with Louisa. She wasn't exactly thrilled about having to be around four other women, because most women usually had a difficult time warming up to her, but however they chose to react to her wouldn't matter. It was her thirtieth birthday. Her own special holiday. So what if she was getting older? Aging was a part of life, and she couldn't stop life, so she may as well join in and embrace the cycle. Whatever it took, Alecia was going to feel special on her birthday.
CATARA TOOK HER assigned aisle seat on the plane. She was the first in her row to sit down. As she watched people take their seats, she wondered who would be next to her. She recalled one flight she'd had about a year ago. They guy sitting next to her apparently had bad nerves, because his left leg shook the entire way, and he passed gas all the while. Catara couldn't say anything—all she could do was turn her head in the opposite direction, hoping to luck upon some clean air. She was miserable for the duration of the hour. She prayed she wouldn't have another experience like that again.
Her prayer was answered—she looked up to see a tall gentleman with a carry-on in his hand. “Excuse me.”
“Yes?” Catara replied.
“Oh, well, I have the window seat. Do you mind?” he asked politely and pointed to the seat.
“Not at all.” She smiled. She put her hand on the back of the seat in front of her to make her getting up appear more effortless than it really was.
“You know, I hate window seats,” he said. “But I got my ticket too late. There were no aisle seats left. Plenty of middle, but no aisles.”
“Why don't we switch,” Catara offered, thinking about how awkward it would be for her to get up during the flight if he had to go to the rest room. She knew that he'd be looking at her body and sizing her up. If she didn't have to move during the flight, he wouldn't have any reason to notice her body.
“You don't mind?” he asked, surprised.
“Not at all,” she said and scooted to the window seat. Once she sat down and buckled herself in, she remembered she'd put a couple of magazines in the pocket of the seat back.
“Could you pass me the two magazines sticking out there?” she asked, pointing to them. He handed them to her.
“Thanks,” Catara said. She stored one of the magazines in front of her and thumbed through the other until they were airborne.
“Excuse me,” the gentleman interrupted her.
“Uh-huh?”
“Judging from the magazines you're reading, I take it you're in the fashion industry?”
“I am,” she replied.
“I think that's so cool,” he said, turning toward her. “I'm intrigued by people who work in creative fields.”
He put his hand out and introduced himself. “I'm Marcus Radford, by the way.”
“Nice to meet you,” she replied, and shook his hand.
“My line of work is not as exciting. I'm an accountant and auditor. Here's my card.” He pulled one out of his briefcase.
“Cool,” Catara said. She wondered what his angle was, what he was trying to gain by talking to her.
“So are you traveling for business or pleasure?” he asked.
“I'm on vacation,” Catara said, smiling at the sound of it. But she looked straight ahead, trying to avoid eye contact.
Marcus straightened up in his chair. “I hope you enjoy your vacation,” he said and looked down at his watch.
Just then, Catara realized she'd been enjoying the conversation. She turned toward him. “I can be so rude sometimes. I just realized I didn't tell you my name,” she said and held out her hand. “Catara Edwards.”
Marcus smiled, nearly blushing, and extended his hand to Catara.
TANYA STOOD IN line at the baggage check-in at the Chicago O'Hare airport. Her heart raced as she stepped out of line enough to confirm that yes, although she was running late, nobody cared. She still had to stand in line to check her luggage, and she would more than likely miss her flight. It was freezing outside, and her stiletto-heeled boots were already beginning to bother her feet. I should have opted for the shorter heel, but they didn't complement my outfit as well as the ones I'm wearing, she thought.
What she was wearing wouldn't matter if she missed her flight. Something had to be done, but she didn't know what. Surely she couldn't just walk to the front of the line. She had no choice but to wait in hopes that the line would pick up momentum and clear out quickly. She looked around, hoping to find something, anything that would help out her cause. A skycap walked by, and Tanya grabbed him. She wasn't sure how he could help, but she grabbed him anyway.
“Yes, ma'am how can I help you?” he asked.
“Well I'm not sure if you can. See, I'm late, and if I don't get checked in soon, I'll miss my flight. It leaves at eleven-thirty.”
“Yeah, you are in a jam. And by the look of this line, you won't be checked in anytime soon.”
“Exactly. Do I have any options?” she asked, distressed.
“Well, you could go inside. The line might be shorter, but I doubt it. Or, and keep this on the down-low,” he said, lowering his voice, “for the right kind of tip, I might be able to arrange to get you to the front of the line inside.”
“Tip? What would be a good tip?” Tanya asked. She'd never flown before and didn't even know there was tipping involved in the check-in process.
“Ma'am, I basically work for tips, and there are a lot of people out here. You tip me what you think is worth my giving you, out of everybody else, personalized time and making sure you don't miss your plane.” The skycap was young and full of energy. He was actually charming.
“I can give you fifteen dollars,” Tanya said, while trying to add up her spending money in her mind. “I hope that's not an insult,” she said.
“It's a start,” he said, and loaded her luggage on his cart. “Let's go.”
Tanya fell out of line and followed the skycap inside.
“You add your digits to that fifteen dollars and I really won't feel insulted.”
“I have a boyfriend, and he's extremely jealous,” she shot back.
“If he's so jealous, why ain't he here? If I had a woman as fine as you, I wouldn't let her leave my sight. I'd do whatever it took to make her happy.”
He stopped her and her luggage on the side of the check-in counter.
“Wait right here,” he said, and walked away.
His words stuck with Tanya. He was right. If Chris really loved her, he would do whatever it took to keep her, even if it meant sacrificing his costly lifestyle. He didn't love her; even tho
ugh he told her he did, over and over through the years, his actions said otherwise. As scary as it seemed, she was going to have to leave him and move away for good. If she stayed, she'd end up miserable and would probably bury him way too soon, just like Rosario did T-Roy.
“You're all set, pretty lady,” the skycap said.
“It's that easy?”
“Yep. Just walk up to that representative right there, and she'll get you taken care of. I'm right behind you with your luggage,” he said.
Tanya was checked in with no problem. She slipped the skycap fif-teen dollars.
“Hey, pretty lady,” he said.
“If things don't work out with your man, you know where to find me,” he winked.
Tanya smiled, waved good-bye, and quickly proceeded to the boarding gate.
ELISE AND ALLEN sat at the restaurant right outside the screening area at the Hartsfield airport. Her baggage was checked, and she was ticketed. They'd gotten there early enough to grab breakfast before she had to board her flight, which was scheduled to take off at eleven-thirty a.m.
Elise was bright-eyed and bouncing, still overwhelmed by the events that had occurred over the past week. “Who would've thought that when Mike and I were on our knees on the ground of the parking lot, afraid for our lives, that something so fortunate as this trip could happen for me? Thank you so much, Allen,” she said and reached over to hug him.
He blushed.
“I can't take all the credit. Hattie did help. I'm just glad you won. I apologize for forging your name on the letter, but I think it was worth it, don't you?”
“I still feel like I'm dreaming. I've always wanted to go to the Bahamas, even if we're only staying four hours. And a cruise! This is too much. I'll be sure to bring you back a souvenir, I promise.”
The last time Allen saw this side of Elise, she had been showing him her gym. Just like then, she was now happy to the core. She was always bubbly, easygoing, and sweet, but even more so now. He was glad to be the man responsible for her happiness.
“You're always doing so much for everybody—your grandmother, the church, the community. I figured it was high time somebody did something for you.”
“You're too much. I'm floored that you would take the time out of everything you've got going on to think about me.” Elise made the comment lightly, hoping that if there were any romantic efforts behind his actions, he'd let her know.
After she found out he'd entered her into the contest, she was convinced that Allen was the man for her, but Elise was old-fashioned. She wanted him to make the first move, tell her something; otherwise, she could only believe that he wanted just a platonic relationship.
The two went on during breakfast, complimenting each other and waiting for the other to share their true feelings so they could be honest about their own. Before they were ready to leave each other, before either got the courage, it was time for Elise to catch her plane.
“Thanks for breakfast,” she said as they stood up.
“It was my pleasure.”
They walked over to the screening area.
“You enjoy yourself enough to carry you through the rest of the year,” he insisted.
“Oh, I'm sure I will.”
They hugged. Elise didn't want to let go. She sensed that Allen didn't either, but they pulled apart.
“See you when I get back,” Elise said, pulling out her ticket to give to the first screener.
“Okay,” Allen said and turned to walk away.
Elise got in line to go through the metal detector.
“Elise!” Allen yelled to her.
She looked over her shoulder to see what he was going to say. She held her breath—if he said anything romantic, her birthday would be complete.
Allen acted as if he was going to say something heavy.
“If you want, I can pick you up when you get back.”
“Okay,” she said and forced a smile to hide her disappointment that they still hadn't moved any closer to becoming a couple than when she first realized she liked him.
LASHAWNDA'S MOMMA'S BOYFRIEND was supposed to be taking her to the airport, but when they got into the car and tried to start it, the engine wouldn't turn over.
“Shit!” he said. “It seems like this only happens when I got something important to do.”
Lashawnda huffed, but she couldn't say anything, because it wasn't his fault that his vehicle was raggedy.
She was going to catch a cab, but her momma's boyfriend, John, insisted that if she paid him half the price of the cab, he'd get her there on time. Plus, she wouldn't have to worry about dealing with a stranger.
He swore again and popped the hood, rolled down the driver's side window, jumped out of the car, and lifted the hood.
“I think it's the battery!” he yelled from underneath the hood. “Hold tight. I'm gonna get you to the airport. I just gotta get Earl, next door, to give me a jump.”
Lashawnda threw her hands up. Do I have a choice? she thought.
She was staying at her mom's apartment until she could get back from her trip and find a place of her own. Luckily, she had planned to get to the airport two hours early—she'd had some time to deal with her momma's boyfriend and his unreliable car.
“If he doesn't get it started in fifteen minutes, I'm taking the MARTA,” she swore.
John came back. It was ten-fifteen.
“Earl's gone to work. I'm gonna have to find somebody else. Hold tight, Lashawnda.” He walked by the car and down the street of the apartment complex.
“I can't trust this,” she said to herself, and then took the keys out of the ignition. She got out of the car, opened the trunk, and lugged out her new suitcase and carry-on bag. It was cool out, what her mother called “jacket weather,” but the sun was shining. She pulled the handle of the large piece and put the carry-on on top of it. She sighed loudly and set out to walk down the street and up a block to the bus stop.
Her timing was good, because by the time she had gotten to the stop, the bus was in sight. Lashawnda boarded and sat at the front, gripping her luggage. Her hands were freezing, but her nose was perspiring and the liquid foundation on her face was separating and coming off. She could feel it. She reached into her carry-on and grabbed a tissue. She dabbed facial toner on it and began blotting her face. She looked around and noticed that everyone sitting near her was staring. She ignored them—they had no idea of where she was going or what she was trying to do.
She pulled out her compact and patted powder on her face to remove the shine. After she finished, she took a deep breath and lay back in the seat, letting her head fall back. She had so much to deal with when she returned—the first item of business was to look for a new job, which wasn't going to be easy. Working for Cicely had been her first professional position, and the odds of Cicely being a good reference were slim. Then she needed to find a place and eventually try to get a car.
What am I doing vacationing? she wondered. I have too much to take care of. Then she concluded that if Cicely could vacation, she could too. Her new life would have to wait until she returned from her thirtieth-birthday celebration.
OUISA MONTERO, JESSICA, one of the show's interns, and Stan, the limousine driver, arrived at the Miami airport twenty minutes ahead of the first person's scheduled arrival time.
Locating a bar and grill, they found themselves a space, so as each woman arrived, one of them could help them retrieve their luggage and take them to the bar to meet Louisa. Once everyone had arrived, the women would have a long day ahead. There would be thirty to forty-five minutes between each person's arrival time and, contingent on there being no late arrivals, everyone would get to enjoy a brief time meeting and greeting before they got on with their busy day of shopping and being pampered.
Louisa walked to the furthest comfortable corner in the bar and claimed two tables. Then Jessica and Stan went to the waiting area for arriving flights. Stan held a sign that read: “melvin green and the morning show crew contest winn
ers!” Jessica was prepared, wearing comfortable shoes—as the winners arrived, it was her job to escort them to baggage claim, assist them with their bags, and then take them to meet Louisa.
Lashawnda was the first to arrive. When she saw Stan holding the sign, she breathed a sigh of relief. “Am I ever glad to see you,” she said to Stan. “I was so nervous that I'd forgotten where I was supposed to go. Oh, thank goodness.”
Jessica moved close to her. “Excuse me, hi. My name is Jessica, and I'll be escorting you to where Ms. Montero is waiting. You must be Lashawnda?” she asked.
“Yes, I am.”
“Okay. Follow me, and we'll pick up your luggage first.”
“I'm so happy the radio station had sense enough to have you help us. I know that I would have been running around like a chicken with its head cut off otherwise.”
“It's my pleasure,” Jessica replied.
When Lashawnda saw Louisa, her mouth dropped wide open. She covered it with her hands to contain her excitement.
Louisa stood up to greet her. “You must be Lashawnda,” she said.
“Oh my God. Louisa Montero. Girl, thank you for having this contest.” Tears began falling from her eyes.
Jessica excused herself.
“You just don't know how much it meant to me to win.”
“You're welcome, but it was actually Melvin's idea.”
“Louisa, make sure you thank Melvin for me. Oh my God. You just don't know how special this is,” Lashawnda said. Then she took a look at Louisa. “You're so pretty!” she squealed.
“Thank you,” Louisa said. “Come on, have a seat. You can order an appetizer. Drinks. Whatever.”
“Great. I'm starving,” Lashawnda said. She sat down and tried to concentrate on the menu, but she couldn't. She was just too excited.
CATARA AND TANYA stood with Jessica and Stan. They'd walked up at about the same time and were waiting for Elise. They were both anxious and wanted to move forward.
“How much longer do we have to wait?” Tanya asked.
The Night Before Thirty Page 13
