My Last Resolution

Just as she’s in the middle of telling me how Adrian understands me like no one else can, the desk agent beckons for me to approach the counter.

“Hold on mom,” I say as I step closer. “I need to ask when my flight to Boston will be rescheduled.” I put the phone against my chest and smile at the agent. “Do you have any idea what time the flight will be rescheduled? Will it definitely be for tomorrow?”

“No clue. Would you like a discount voucher to the Marriott across the street? It’s ten percent off and a shuttle can take you there and back.”

“No thanks.”

“Okay.” She shrugs. “Next!”

“I wasn’t finished.” I shake my head. “I’m not trying to be a pain in the ass, but I’m sure this type of thing happens pretty often here so...When can I expect for the flight to be rescheduled?”

“Your guess is as good as mine, ma’am.” Her voice is flat. “All I know is that all flights are grounded and you’re currently holding up my line. Maybe tomorrow? Maybe next week? They usually call and let you know.”

“How can there be a snowstorm if there’s no snow falling?” I point at the window behind her. “And you all had to know that this storm was coming before today! Are there no weather channels in this part of the country? Do you not have cable?”

“Next!” She motions for me to get out of the way.

“No, no, no. Wait.” I sigh. “I’ll take the hotel voucher.”

She happily rips a sheet off a pad and hands it to me. “Happy New Year’s. Next!”

I move to the other side of the counter and pull my laptop from my bag.

“Are you still there, mom?” I hold the phone up to my ear again.

“Oh, I’m here alright. Where are you if you’re not in Boston right now?”“

“Washington, D.C. There’s a storm—supposedly, so they’ve grounded everything.”

“Are you going to sleep in the airport? Did I tell you I saw a story about a nest of roaches in a terminal last week?”

“Mom...”

“Actually, you deserve to be crawled on a few times after the way you’ve handled this whole Adrian thing.” She suddenly changes her tone. “Do you need me to cover your hotel stay for tonight? David said he wired you money, but it won’t be in your account until tomorrow.”

“You’d do that for me?”

“Of course.” There’s sympathy in her voice. “Go ahead and pre-pay for it online. I have my card ready.”

I pull up the Marriott’s website and type in the dates. The second I click “reserve,” the words “SOLD OUT” appear on the screen.

“It’s sold out, mom...”

“Just look up another hotel, hun. They can’t all be sold out.”

Twenty minutes pass and I realize that they can be. They are all in fact sold out.

Across from me, a family of five starts to set up camp on the floor. Airport employees are handing out pillows and blankets, and there’s an announcement about discounted snacks at all the magazine shops.

“I’m just going to stay here.” I wave at a man walking down the aisle, signaling for him to throw me a pillow. “It may give me inspiration to finally write something.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, it’s not that big of a deal. I’ll call you in the morning.”

“Wait, Paris. Wait...” She hesitates. “I invited Adrian over to talk. He should be here in any minute, so if you want I can put you on speaker phone and maybe be the mediator between you two. I really think you’re going through something, and you’re just blaming Adrian for—”

“Goodbye, mom. I love you.” I hang up. I should’ve known there was a reason she wanted to keep me on the phone. She and I hardly ever talk for more than three minutes.

I grab my things and walk down the aisle, searching for an empty spot. I need to be alone for a while.

For half a second, when my mom had mentioned Adrian wanting to talk, I’d felt a lump crawl up my throat. In the past—whenever Adrian would hurt me or do something selfish, I would let that lump build and build until the tears came. And then I would cry until I couldn’t cry anymore.

Not today.

I find an empty bench in front of a window and place my pillow on its edge. Before I can get comfortable, I hear a familiar voice behind me.

“Do you need a place to stay tonight?”

I look over my shoulder and see Blake smiling that flawless smile, looking more perfect now than he did on the plane.

“No, I don’t. Thanks for the offer though.” I turn around and fluff my pillow.

“Paris...” Blake walks in front of me and kneels down, grabbing my hand—making my body react against its will with that one simple touch. “I don’t think it’s safe for you to stay here overnight.”

“Actually, I’m pretty sure it is. Everyone here has had to go through security, so I doubt anyone has a weapon. Plus, there are cameras every few feet. Oh, and since TSA thought I was extremely suspicious hours ago, they’re probably watching me right now. I think I’ll be fine.”

“I don’t.”

“Who cares?”