We're Not Related Anymore...

Infamous Last Words

Maddie: Present Day

My brother calls me back as I'm in the taxi on my way to the airport. I've only just made the booking for my flight online. I had such a sharp intake of breath when I saw how much it cost that my driver asked me if I was ok. 

Yes, sir, I thought, but didn't say out loud. Everything's fine except I just found out my dad's dead and I'm spending all my tips on a flight home to see his family that loathes me. 

I chose the earliest flight available. It's in two hours and the total time to take me from L.A. to Alabama is four hours and seven minutes. I didn't realize it would be so quick. When I drove down here the first time with my best friend from high school, it took us over thirty hours. We spent three days on the road, taking turns driving and sleeping in dodgy motel rooms. But now, with a plane, I'll see my dad's family today. 

The thought terrifies me and I'm glad I decided to just go. If I allowed myself to wait for Lilian to get back to me with the details, I know I would've chickened out of going.

"What time must I be at the airport?" My brother asks when I pick up his call. 

"At around five p.m.," I say, returning the ice in his voice. He doesn't say anything else. Doesn't confirm the time, say he's sorry about Dad, or ask me where I've been the last couple of years. Instead, he hangs up and it's just me and my driver. 

L.A. passes by me in a blur. All the palm trees and blue sky that filled me with hope when I first saw them, seem somber today. There are few clouds in the sky, big, grey ones that threaten rain. I like to think it's the city's way of mourning my departure. 

I zone out and listen to the cab's radio. It's on a music station and the hosts interrupt every couple of songs to talk about some inane subject. It makes me wish I had had the foresight to pack my earphones. I hate that Lindsay was right about me forgetting things. 

Forgot my earphones :(  I text her. 

I'm only a little bit surprised when she shoots me back a text almost immediately. 

Lindsay: Told you. Did you no good running out like that this morning. You were like a bat out of hell. At least that's what Shelia said when I told her. 

Me: Is she mad?

Lindsay: She's just worried about you. So am I. I'm sorry I assumed you were in a drunken stupor this morning. I feel bad. 

Me: It's ok. You know I luv u. Even when you project your shit on me (literally and figuratively). Now get back to work before Sander confiscates your phone. Again. 

Lindsay: I take it back. I'm not sorry anymore.

That's the last text I receive before we pull into the drop off zone at the airport. My driver helps me unload my suitcase despite it being a one-person job. I thank him, tip him, and go on my not-so-merry way. 

I don't have much experience in airports. I've never left the country and most of the times I've travelled, I've done so via long car trips. But I have seen enough television to know where to go and what to do next. 

Before I know it, I've got my ticket tucked safely in my passport (luckily I didn't forget it as I always keep it taped up in my suitcase). 

There's still about an hour until my plane leaves. I find a seat where I have a clear view of the planes and their departure times and make myself comfortable. I don't have much with me except for my cellphone and Kindle. My bag is already checked in and I feel naked without it.