Amidst the Misery

Chapter 11: Hearts Beat Loud

*****

Love, pushed to its edges.

"I have never gotten over

the consequence of you."

*****

She misses her.

It's a low hum ache compared to what it had been days, even hours, earlier. A steady thrum working its way up her chest.

Flight announcements crackle overhead, piercing the air with bureaucratic urgency that compels quickened footfalls and resets already anxious faces into deeper frowns.

There's a beleaguered father crouched on the floor helpless to retrieve his toddler son, who in his onesie wisdom, has interpreted the waiting area by the gate to be the ideal playground for hide and seek. The little boy is tucked under the seats-and behind the legs-of a pair of amused elderly Japanese businessmen, unbothered by their toppled suitcases that have become his wall of defence. The exchange of tiny giggles and ineffectual paternal sternness competes with the brimming chatter of a group of preteens, several rows over, decked out in matching school polo shirts. Broad smiles grace bright faces that are lit up by screens from which furious tapping sustain loosely contained laughter.

Uniformed airport personnel dot about while teams of pilots and crew move briskly and efficiently with practised grace through the milling crowds-like a flock of migrating swallows that flow as one, break and regroup in coordinated sequence.

But Jennie only gives passing attention to any of that rustling activity. Her line of sight, and the reason for her still thudding heartbeat, is locked on the figure currently absent from her hold.

No less than five minutes have passed, and the distance is no more than ten feet from where they were standing in a tight embrace, unwilling to let go, yet, Jennie feels a ridiculous sense of loss. Her hands hang uselessly by her side, empty of purpose.

Lisa is at the gate counter, quietly negotiating with the airline agent. Of what, Jennie isn't sure, still confused by the sudden absence, having missed the warmth of Lisa's body when it pulled away unannounced before she stalked to the counter with determination.

Jennie watches as the flustered agent struggles to keep up with Lisa's hushed demands. She can't fully see Lisa's face, only a fraction of her profile, but enough is within view to catch the telltale clenched jaw and minute muscle movement of the vein in her neck. Jennie bites back her amusement that Lisa's assailing is out of step with her appearance. Casual and comfortable in cuffed jeans and sweater, which is completely over-dressed for the heat wave that's lately gripped the city. Jennie's eyes widen discreetly and her stomach flutters recognising the pullover top as the cable knit sweater she had gifted Lisa.

A second staff member joins the defenceless first to offer assistance though not before giving a less than subtle once-over to the wool-clad brunette accosting them. Hair falling out of a loose bun and sweat beading down the side of Lisa's temple, the miscued wardrobe in ninety-eight degree temps draws ill-concealed judgment.

Jennie's instinct is to go over there and back Lisa up but before she can take a step, three pairs of eyes look her way. Two are blank of emotion, except for the edge of reined-in fatigue well-worn by those working in customer service, while the third gaze is soft and so incredibly gentle their fraught conversation might as well have been a discourse on flowers.

She gives a small wave, making eye contact with Lisa in silent ask, causing a smile to break across Lisa's lips-and her own to pull up in kind. Jennie's heart swoops at the marionette effect. The two agents unfortunately aren't as enamoured by Jennie's general existence, instead placating Lisa with tight nods of false empathy before shaking their heads and shrugging their shoulders in the universal sign of "nothing we can do about it, ma'am."