Seatbacks and Tray Tables | Prequel to The Liberated Wife (2 page)

I put my suitcase up on the scale counter and she tagged it and handed me back my ID and my documents. 

“You’re boarding at gate B-3.  Thank you for flying with us.”

“Thank you.  Have a good day.” And I fumbled with my bag again to put my ID back in my wallet.  I dropped the damn bag, of course
, and caught her rolling her eyes as I scooped up my things hurriedly and moved in the direction of security. 

I got through security with a few looks when I had to remove my sunglasses and made my way to terminal B.  I stopped and bought a
bottle of water, a pack of tic-tac’s and three magazines. 
House Beautiful, Real Simple
and
Southern Living
.  All safe reads for me.  I stood in line and paid and then went to buy a cup of coffee.  The line was long as hell and I almost aborted but when I went to get out of line I stepped on the foot of the man behind me and I looked up to see his mouth form a straight line and his eyes darken dangerously.

“I’m sorry
,” I mumbled and then stood still so as not to bump him again.  The line inched forward and I bought my coffee and walked over to the creamer.  I felt the man at my elbow waiting patiently for me to finish and, for some reason, I felt my hand trembling as I stirred my coffee to the right color.  He was reading something on his phone and, as I tried to sneak a peek at him he looked up without an expression and I jerked my head back down and moved out of his way to walk to my gate to find a seat.

I was sitting down when I noticed Mr. Mean Coffee walk to the same gate and take a seat facing the television monitor.  I took the opportunity to check him out and snickered to myself to note he had on very expensive loafers without socks.  Jim always said only girly men didn’t wear socks with their shoes
but I figured this dude was no girly man.  He pulled his leg up to rest his calf on his knee and his pants puckered around his private parts.  I felt myself blush thinking he must be huge and reassured myself that no one could hear my thoughts. 

He was reading something on his phone again and laughed softly to himself, his lips curling
gently.   He was bald with a super short cut that looked hyper masculine.  His nose was perfect and he had a mustache and a goatee.  There was a color to his skin as if he spent a lot of time outside and I got sad when I saw him lift his index finger up to his mouth while concentrating because I’ve seen Jim do that a million times in concentration.  Must be a man thing.  I wonder how much he did that as he thought about destroying our marriage.  As he thought about destroying me.  And suddenly the only thing I was noticing or thinking about was my all consuming pain that my husband couldn’t be to me what he promised he’d be and that, well…I must simply not be good enough.  Shit.  More of these fucking tears.  I can’t keep doing this.  I’m going to look like shit.

“Passenger Taylor Ansley, please report to the ticket counter at gate B-3.”

I thought I heard my name but that couldn’t be right.  I froze and cocked my head to the side as I listened intently for the announcement to come again.

“Passenger Taylor Ansley, please report to the ticket counter at gate B-3.”

I got up and went over to the ticket counter surprised to find the ticket agent from earlier standing behind the counter with the gate agents.

“Ms. Ansley, you dropped this earlier.” And she handed me Jim’s note.

“Oh, okay.  Thank you.”

“Ms. Ansley,” the gate agent started, “we’ve taken the liberty of upgrading you to First Class for your flight.”

“Um, well…”

“It’s okay.  You don’t have to do anything.  May I have your ticket please?”

I handed her the ticket I was clutching in my hand and dropped another snotty napkin as I passed it to her.

“Lord, if you don’t keep your snotty tissue to yourself.” The ticket agent from earlier snapped but it was playful.  Like she just wanted me to smile a little.  Cheryl.  I noticed her name was Cheryl on her
nametag.

“I’m sorry.  It’s been a rough morning.”

“I know.  My sister’s husband was on that site.”

I looked at her confused.  She nodded toward Jim’s letter.

“That site.”

“Oh.  OH! Okay.”

The gate agent gave me my new ticket and Cheryl rounded the counter and gently put her hand on my elbow and led me out of earshot of those around us.

“She tried to do it for almost a year but it killed her.  She would sit home and
worry herself wondering where he was and what or who he was doing.  She stayed because of their children and she was a shell of herself when she finally told me what she was dealing with.”

I started crying again.

“I was so furious I started packing his shit myself and throwing it out of the house.  The only reason I stopped was because I knew my nephews and my niece were on their way home from school.  I sent my sister to my house with them when they got there and I waited on my brother-in-law to get home.”

“What did you do?”

“My brother and two of my cousins convinced him it would be best if he slept elsewhere and that’s all I have to say about that.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“How long ago was this?”

“About three years ago.  She’s remarried and happy now.  Started a group for teenage girls focusing on teaching them confidence.  She thinks that’s why she stayed because she didn’t have confidence and she was insecure.”

“Oh.”

“Look…it’s a lot I know.  Here is my unsolicited advice.  If you decide to stay, remember that an open marriage is open at both ends.”

I looked at her puzzled and she sighed as if I was dumb.  She looked around to make sure we weren’t being overheard.  “Get you a fuck buddy and enjoy yourself instead of waiting around while he dips his peen in other women.”

And I blushed beet red again.  She softened and surprised me by giving me a quick hug.  “Enjoy First Class.”

“Thank you.  Oh…may I ask you a question?”

“Sure.  What’s up?”

“Where did you buy a scrunchie?  I haven’t seen one in years.”

She burst out laughing.  “Me neither.  I saw a tutorial on Pinterest and made my own.  I like them.”

They both noticed the woman staring at them at the same time. 
The woman took their notice as permission to approach and gushed, “Taylor Ansley?  Ohmygosh I just love your blog!  Are you on your way to the Design Blogger’s Conference in Miami?” 

“And on that note…I’m out.  Have fun in Miami.”
Cheryl said.

“Thank you, Cheryl.”

“You’re welcome.” And she left.  I took a deep breath and tried to put on a good face while the fan told me all about her kitchen disaster remodel.

###

I was distracted by checking comments on my blog so it was a while before I got on the plane.  I was balancing my computer bag, my magazines, the snack bag Jim had given me, my purse and my coffee.  My seat was 6A and I saw him in 6B pretty much immediately.  Of course he’d been one of the first to get on the plane so he was settled and comfortable reading something on his phone again.  I stopped beside him and he looked up at me.  He unfolded his long limbs and stood up as I scooted past him to get to my seat.

“Would you like me to hold that?” he asked and I looked at him quickly confused.  “Your coffee.  Would you like me to hold it as you get settled?”

“Oh.  Of course.  Yes, please.” And I handed him the coffee and then put my computer bag under the seat in front of me and my magazines in the seat pocket.  I was extremely aware of him watching me to see when he should pass the coffee back and I realized how stupid I’d been to not have already thrown it out because it was completely cold by now and I hated cold coffee.  There is just no getting past that for me.  I hated Frappuccino’s and all of that.  I didn’t even like coffee flavored ice cream. 

I reached my hand out towards him.  “Thank you.  I’ll take that now.” 

The rest of the passengers boarded and the flight attendant asked us if there was anything we needed before takeoff.  I handed her my coffee and asked her if she’d please throw it away for me.  She took it away and my phone started ringing.  I dug it out of my purse and saw that it was Jim.  I sent the call to voicemail and then it signaled I had a text message.  I opened the text message from Jim:
I love you.  Travel safe. 
I wanted to text back BITE ME! but I didn’t. 

I turned off my phone and put it back in my bag.  My seatmate was still reading something on his phone and, once the announcement to put it away was made, he did so and then crossed his leg over his knee.  I looked down at his crotch and noticed the bulge against his pants and looked up to find him watching me with a smirk on his face.

“So, is Miami home or is home here?”

Embarrassed as hell I stuttered, “I, I mean I’m, I’m from here.”

“So is this trip work or pleasure?”

And I realized I’d been holding my breath.  I exhaled and then inhaled, smelling his amazing scent and wondering why he wasn’t wrinkled.  And why he was laughing at me. “Work.  Kinda.  I’m a blogger.  I’m on a panel.  Down there.  In Miami.”

“A blogger?  Let me guess, you’re a sports blogger.” He smiled. 

And his whole face lit up like a 12 year old boy who’d made a joke. Damn he is handsome.

“Why yes.  I’m surprised you didn’t recognize me.  I’m Tom…assina Brady.”  I laughed.  I can’t believe it.  I actually laughed.

“Ah! 
Tomassina.”  He licked his lips quickly and smiled, “So nice to meet you.  I’m Christopher Reddick.” And he held his hand out.  I held my hand out slowly and he took it looking into my eyes.  The shock was electric and I blinked like a light had gone out suddenly, startled.  He released my hand and I felt it throb and I looked down catching the slight twitch of the bulge between his legs.  What in the hell?  I turned to the window as we took off. 

“It’s not going to help you know.”

Startled at the sound of his voice, I jumped a bit. “What’s not going to help?”

“Pretending I’m not here for the
rest of the flight.”

“I wasn’t doing that.”

“Yes you were.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes I do.”

“No you don’t.”

“Yes.  I do.  I know that and more about you.”

“What in the world could you know about me?”

“I know that someone made you cry this morning and that someone is probably your husband which is why you didn’t answer the phone when he called.”

“How do you know that was my husband who called?”

“Because if you were my woman I’d make sure you made it to your plane safely too.  So, what did he do to hurt you so badly?”

“You’re mighty damn cheeky.”

He laughed.  “Did you say cheeky?  That’s priceless.”

I turned away from him again.

“You’re not going to tell me?  The stranger you’ll never see again?  Haven’t you heard it’s all the rage to talk your seatmate’s ear off with your woes while traveling?”

I didn’t say anything.  He leaned closer.  Not even over the line of my armrest but I felt him closer.  He dropped his voice, “Taylor…”

I whipped my head around, “How do you know my name?”

“They called you up to the counter at the gate.”

“You were watching me?”

“Well, you were watching me so why
wouldn’t I?”

“I wasn’t watching you!”

“Yes you were.”

“Here we go with this again.”

The flight attendant came and asked if we wanted anything. 

“We’ll both have
a Bloody Mary.  Leave the can of mix unopened as well as the bottles.  And we’ll have two bottles each please.”

“I don’t want a Bloody Mary.”

“Yes you do.”  He addressed the flight attendant, “And she needs something to eat.”

“Yes Sir.”

“The hell?????”

“You’ll thank me later.  Trust me.  Now, are you going to tell me why you’ve been crying?”

“Because men suck.”

“Yes, we do.  In more ways than one.
  So do women.”

“Why do I have the feeling you’re baiting me?”

“I’m not Taylor, um, Tomassina.  I’m just here so why not listen if you want to talk?  What’s the harm in that?”

I
stared at him and he stared back. 

“Yes.  It was my husband.”

“What happened?  Did he cheat on you?”

“No.  I mean yes.  Well, he did before but we went to therapy and well, he hasn’t cheated again but he wants to.”

“How do you know?”

“He told me.”

“He told you?”

“Yes.  He says he wants an open marriage.”

“Oh.” He seemed at a loss for words.

“Yeah.  Oh.” 

The flight attendant returned with our drinks and he expertly mixed first his and then mine.  When he’d finished, the stewardess brought me a bagel and cream cheese with some fruit.