I sat on the bed, rubbing my forehead with my fingertips. "Yes. Sorry. I-"
"You don't need to apologize. Everyone was worried, so I checked the airlines. You're in New York, right?"
"Yes. That's right. I had a trip for work. I feel so badly about not being there. Is Quinn okay?" I began pacing, calculating the time it would take for me to make it back to Chicago.
"He's . . . Quinn." I thought I detected a hint of affection in Alex's tone, but I couldn't be sure. "I told him where you were. He's sending his plane. Can you get to New Jersey in an hour? I already sent your information to Teterboro."
"Teterboro?"
"Executive airport. Easier to fly in and out of than JFK or LaGuardia."
"Uh, yes. I think so. Let me map it." I glanced at the clock by the bed. My commercial flight didn't leave for another three and a half hours. Matt and I had to-
Matt!
"Wait. I have someone with me. Matt Simmons."
There was a pause on the other end, then Alex cleared his throat. "Okay. He can text me his passport number or driver's license number-one or the other-or I can just look it up. We'll add him. They'll be expecting you both."
"Okay. But you know, I could have taken my scheduled flight. It's not a huge time difference."
"It's a three-hour difference in arrival time, Marie," he said, like three hours might destroy or save the world. "See you soon."
"See you."
I hung up, needing a moment to catch my breath, then messaged Greg:
5:05 a.m. Marie: Congratulations! So happy for you both. I can't wait to see the baby <3 <3
5:07 a.m. Greg: Thank you, gorgeous. Here's a snap of Fiona with the babe taken last night. As you can see, the child is perfection, just like her mother.
5:10 a.m. Marie: Why are you up? Shouldn't you sleep while you can? Is Fiona up?
5:11 a.m. Greg: Fi is asleep and so is the baby. But I can't sleep when I'm this happy. It would be a waste of the moments that make life worth living.
His last text made me smile.
And then I sniffed, because it also made me want to cry.
But then I blinked away the tears, straightening my back. A sense of rightness and resolve firming my bones. My person was out there, and I just needed to start looking for him again.
The time had come to surrender my crutch. Because I wanted someone to feel about life with me the way Greg felt about life with Fiona. I didn't want to waste the moments-my moments-that made life worth living.
I texted Matt and gave him an overview of the events from the prior evening as well as a summary of the modification in our travel plans, informing him that I was on my way down to the concierge to call a taxi. He met me in the lobby just as the taxi pulled up, giving us no time to engage in an awkward greeting.
He didn't kiss me on the cheek, as I gave him no opportunity to do so.
Also helpful, the distraction of my friends' circumstances. The situation provided adequate fodder for discussion all the way to the executive airport and minimal eye contact. I filled him in on what had occurred while I surveyed the city beyond the taxi window.
Everything went smoothly. We arrived, checked in, were escorted to Quinn's plane, buckled in, and we were off. No waiting in lines, no time for idle chit-chat. I opened my laptop, figuring I'd use the flight to type up notes from the day before.
"You're working?" Matt hovered at the end of the aisle, glancing from me to my open laptop.
Without looking up, I nodded. "I should get these notes transcribed while they're still fresh."
I sensed Matt hesitate while I pulled on my headphones and scrolled through my phone for an appropriate playlist. For some reason, I felt like listening to angry girl music.
So I did.
I wrote while Matt sat in the seat across from mine-even though there were twenty-two other seats to choose from-and likewise worked on his laptop. Every so often I sensed his attention on me. I ignored it. I would be strong.
I didn't close my laptop or remove my headphones until after we'd landed, taxied to our hangar, and the flight attendant appeared to tell us we were welcome to depart when ready. With minimal conversation, we got into the car Quinn had sent to pick us up in and it took us straight to the hospital.
Matt's first priority was checking in on Fiona and family. Meanwhile, I hadn't received any new texts about Janie's condition and worried aloud regarding what I might find.
I texted Dan as soon as we arrived to the hospital lot. He was waiting for me just inside the entrance. Other than tossing Matt a who-the-hell-are-you glare, he seemed to be singularly focused on getting me checked in.