I glanced across the aisle and he caught my subtle hint quick enough to take a seat there instead. “I’m guessing we’re not exchanging numbers.”
I fiddled with the edge of my crop top. “I don’t mind.”
I totally did. Normally, men didn’t ask and I didn’t disclose. That was the problem with a jet back home. This was too much time to fill space with unnecessary chitchat.
He smiled at me. “I think you do. It makes me want to ask again for some reason.”
“That’s pretty twisted, Bastian.”
“I agree, especially because I’m in the business of forming connections that everyone feels comfortable with.”
I hummed but didn’t push further. Bastian was in another business dimension that I was sure would kill the cat if it was curious enough.
I’d met my limit with him.
I’d crossed enough limits too.
The plane started to descend and my breathing started to normalize.
“Thanks for the flight to that little unknown island.” I nodded out the window.
“Thanks for watching the sunrise with me,” he said back. “It’s a different type of experience next to a beautiful woman who appreciates it.”
“I think most women would appreciate a flight and a sunrise, Bastian,” I had to say. It’d be absurd for him to think I was the only one.
“You stare at the ocean like a mermaid that belongs there, little girl. It’s a different experience with you.”
“No, I don’t.”
“You don’t?” He crossed his arms over his chest and tilted his head as he looked me over. “How would you know? You look at yourself in the mirror every time you’re at a beach?”
I chewed my cheek, trying not to hold back a snide remark. “For someone in the business of connecting with people and making them feel comfortable, you sure don’t have a way with me.”
“We connect differently. That’s for sure.”
I rolled my eyes. “Well, that connection is about to be over.”
He didn’t say anything back. We disappeared into our own phones, our own lives, and our own priorities.
7
Morina
I made it back to the hotel in time to sit with Linny in the limo home. We slept mostly, considering we’d both had long nights.
Once back in Coralville, my grandma wanted to go for a walk on the beach. We wandered down there as often as we could. Sometimes daily. Sometimes only weekly. Yet, we enjoyed each time all the same.
“Grandma, I’d feel better if I could spread your ashes into the wind or something instead of keeping them in the home.”
“Well, I’m the one who’s going to be dead in a few weeks. So, shouldn’t I get to pick?” she shot back, her wiry, gray hair flapping in the wind as we walked down the coastline.
I took in a deep breath of salty air and tried to stay calm at that inevitability. “It’s not good for anyone’s spirit to keep you locked up in an urn above a cupboard in your old kitchen.”
“Who says?” She looked up at me. Somehow, she’d shrunk in the past ten years and now I towered over her. I’d always been tall but so had she.
Then lung cancer had taken over, and her posture had given in. The last doctor’s meeting wasn’t any news to us. She’d refused treatment months ago and the cancer was rapid. She wanted to die in her home and then have her ashes sit there.
With me. Because I would be living there still.
I shuddered at the thought.
“Well, I guess I say.” I folded my hands in front of myself and squeezed them together. It’d taken me years to stand up for myself like that. I’d been a quiet little girl, always running off to the water and beach, a loner who didn’t really get along with anyone after my parents had died in a car accident. My grandmother had raised me ever since and had let me disappear into my own mind until high school.
Something had shifted in her then, and she’d pushed every limit I had, debating with me and not letting me back down.
“Ah! That’s what I wanted to hear.” She smirked. “You telling me you don’t want my ashes?”
“No! Of course I don’t want them. It’s weird. Your spirit might be hovering there feeling trapped or something.” My stomach rolled with the feeling, and I twisted the beaded bracelets on my wrists. They were a reminder to feel every feeling and go with the flow.
Her cackle came out like a witch’s. With her black flowy dress and frizzy hair, she probably looked like one to the little kid who ran past and jumped at her laugh.
She laughed harder at their fear but didn’t taunt them. “Fine, Mo. I won’t haunt you, I guess. Throw me wherever you want to.”
“I’m not just throwing you out.”
“Oh, I’m dirt at that point anyway.” She waved me off. “If I have a spirit, it’ll be long gone. I’m going to fly up into space and go check out those other planets you always talk about. Maybe, I’ll come to you in a dream and tell you all about them.”
I couldn’t help but grin at that. “I’d like a visit in a dream.”
“Just not in the middle of the night in the kitchen, right? When you’re pouring yourself a glass of milk and I creep up behind you?” Her shoulder bumped mine and I wrapped my arm around her small frame as we walked in sync together.
Maybe it was the waves at our feet or the wind in our hair, but I felt at peace with it all. We’d done the crying when the doctors had told us. We’d been through the pain. Or at least I had.
Grandma didn’t seem to fear death. She just shrugged and said she was surprised she’d lived this long. The doctor mumbled the same thing.
The woman had numerous lives. I kept to myself when I saw her meeting with men dressed like hitmen and didn’t ask many questions. I was nosy but I wasn’t stupid when it came to my grandmother. Nobody outright said that she was ruthless but she could snap at you quickly if you weren’t careful. She’d outlasted her husband, brothers, and even her younger sister. To me, as a child, she’d been invincible. But now…
“Any other wishes?”
She stopped and turned to look out at the body of water. The Atlantic Ocean reached out across the horizon, covering half the world in its melodic and chaotic movements. “You’re going to be tested, child. I’ve protected you and shielded you from what I probably shouldn’t have.”
I took a deep breath. She wasn’t saying anything I didn’t know. I knew I’d lived a sheltered life. We had lived humbly, but I think her and grandpa’s savings had kept her afloat. For me, I’d have my food truck and her little house. I’d be just fine.
“Just remember, when the time comes, you’ll have to make choices. Make the right ones, the ones I laid out for you, and you’ll be just fine.” She patted my hand. “Most of all, I just wish for you to stay strong in your views, embrace the oddities, and be happy.”
I took a deep breath. “Happiness is on the surfboard and in the truck for me.”
“I don’t know if my passing will allow for just that anymore. You’ll have a house, Morina, and you’ll have bills and the men in this city–”
I snorted. “I don’t care about all the men.”
“Well, you should. You can’t enjoy life without someone, Mo.”