After several minutes, there was still no response. Sweating through my polyester uniform, I decided to do something rash.
I went to the ticket counter and purchased her a seat on my flight. I didn’t even have her email, so I had the e-ticket sent to the email address on Maria Rosa’s psychic website. It was a long shot. There was almost no chance of her getting back here from the hotel in time to board. But I wouldn’t have forgiven myself if didn’t at least try.
I have no idea if you’ll get this in time, but I just sent you a ticket to get on my flight. Ask Maria to check her email account. It’s in there. We leave in just over an hour. You’d need to grab your stuff and jet back here. No pressure, but I would love nothing more than to continue our little adventure. If the answer is no, I’ll understand.
I chuckled at my attempt to seem casual. “No pressure.” What I really wanted to say was, “Kendall, get your ass back here because I can’t imagine how I’m gonna breathe through this fucking flight without you.”
Again, no answer after I tried to dial her one last time.
I headed to the pilot’s lounge to check in, get the forecast and go over the flight details. Still no word from Kendall. There was no choice but to stick to the itinerary because this plane wasn’t going to fly itself.
Checking my phone constantly as I met with the crew, it was beginning to feel like Kendall getting on this flight just wasn’t going to happen. In a last ditch effort to stall, I did something I’d never even considered doing once in my entire career: I intentionally caused a delay.
As the first officer, it was my responsibility to inspect the plane when it arrived. I created a fake concern that one of the instruments in the cockpit wasn’t calibrating properly and needed to be looked into. That resulted in an engineer having to run some tests on it. Although the inspection ended up delaying the plane for over an hour, it was all in vain. No Kendall.
I finally closed the cockpit doors, and when my pre-flight paperwork was completed, I got the go ahead for push back.
Ten minutes later, I lifted the plane to a smooth take off while images of blonde hair, honest blue eyes and the most beautiful smile I’d ever seen flashed through my brain. I wondered if we would ever cross paths again.
Once we were at cruising altitude, I decided to use up my last glimmer of hope. The ticket I’d bought for Kendall was for seat 12C. Sometimes a few stragglers boarded at the last minute. Could I have missed her?
When a flight attendant entered with water, I asked, “Is there anyone sitting in 12C by any chance?”
“Let me check,” she said.
The lives of nearly two hundred people were in my hands, and it didn’t make me nervous in the least. Waiting for that flight attendant to come back with the answer? It was torture.
The door opened.
“Actually, Captain, no. That seat is empty.”
“Thank you, Cammie.”
With confirmation that Kendall was definitely not on my plane, I released the breath I’d been holding and took to the intercom to do what I always did when I was feeling down.
But this one was for her.
I TRIED TO RELAX into my seat, even though I was a nervous wreck.
The flight attendant made the announcement to shut down all wireless devices, but that wasn’t necessary in my case, since my phone had died. In my haste to get ready this morning, I’d left my phone charger plugged into the wall back in the bedroom at Maria’s.
Shortly after dropping Carter off at the airport, I had what felt like a panic attack in Maria Rosa’s car. The thought of continuing this trip alone seemed unbearable.
We were almost to the hotel when it all suddenly became clear.
I didn’t even know how to speak Portuguese, so I took a wild guess as to how to relay my thoughts to Maria.
Pointing in the direction behind us, I said, “Aeropuerto!”
She nodded and kept driving toward the Westin.
“Maria, I need to go back to the airport.”
She must have understood me because she suddenly made a sharp left u-turn, up and over the median. Then, we were finally heading the way to the airport. My heart was beating a mile a minute during the drive back.
When she pulled up to the drop off area, I gave her a quick hug. “Muchas gracias!” Immediately realizing that was Spanish, I simply didn’t have enough time to figure out the correct way to thank her. Later, I’d send her a translated thank you note along with some cash to remove the apparent curse on me.
Rushing through the door to the International Airlines ticket counter, I nearly tripped over my own suitcase.
“Has the flight to Dubai left yet?”
The attendant clicked a few buttons. “Actually, that’s been delayed due to technical issues.”