I Don't Catch Colds, I Catch Feelings (s.m.)

II. Misfortune

     Hello snowy Canada. The plane landed four hours later. I was half asleep with a messy bun, leggings, an oversized sweater and a raincoat over it. I looked like a Tumblr wannabe. But my apparel was definitely not made for Canada's winter. I was freezing.
I checked my phone. Five o'clock in the morning. Dear lord Jesus someone save me. Mom said she was going to give Tom a call and tell him when to pick me up so hopefully that was still the case. And then it hit me. I was in a completely different country. I knew no one besides my uncle. And my uncle could still be a murderer.
My phone started blowing up with delayed texts and calls my mom sent me when the plane was landing. I stepped inside the warm airport and called my mom.
"Hello?"
"Ally? Are you okay? The plane landed right? Are you lost? Did you make it-" she started hammering me with questions.
"I'm fine mom." I interrupted her. "The plane landed on time and I'm in the airport. You called Tom right?"
"Oh that's good to hear! Tom should be waiting for you outside. I texted you his number and sent yours to him. So if you can't find him, give him a call."
"Oh okay. I'll call you back later mom. Get some sleep, it's late for you. I love you."
"I love you too." And she hung up.
I went to baggage claim and grabbed my suitcases. I looked around the airport for a few minutes afterwards. There was a small Tim Hortons. Realizing that I can't use American money here without exchanging it, I pulled out the debit card my mom gave me.
I ordered a hot chocolate and a glazed cinnamon bun. I sat at a table and plugged in my charger to the wall outlet next to me. I charged my phone and ate. Canada is okay so far.
Once I was done eating I took my phone and my luggage and left Tim's. I walked out of the airport and called my uncle.
"Hello? Uncle Tom? It's Allison. Where are you?"
"Oh hey Allison! Yeah, I'm parked right out front. You'll see me." He said in a low raspy voice. I guess he just woke up. I'm not blaming him because all I wanted to do was fall asleep.
     I looked around. Did he even tell me what his car looked like? I called him again.
     "Yeah, Uncle Tom, what does your car look like?"
     "Oh, it's a black Jeep Wrangler," he said.
     "Gotcha," and I hang up. The car was a minute walk from where I was. It felt like an hour though because of the weather. It was snowing lightly. What a great welcome.
     I opened the back seat of the car hoping that this was the right one. My mom showed me a picture of what he looked like, but I couldn't really tell through the snowy glass. Thankfully, it was the right car.
     "Hey, you liking Canada so far?" Uncle Tom asked when he saw me.
     "Ha, it's cold, definitely cold," I replied. "But it's beautiful."
     "Yeah, that's pretty much why I moved here. Anyway, let's get you back to home- uh- the house." He choked.
     "Yeah," I responded. Well, my first awkward conversation in a different country. Bucket list here I come.
     It was a thirty minute drive back to his house. It wasn't anything too fancy though. A small brown house with a few frosty windows and a red door. It was cute. We both walked up to the front door, and he opened it for me.
     I dragged my bags inside and dropped them on the floor. I fire was blazing to the right of the door. The house smelled like cookies were being baked in the oven. Uncle Tom closed the door behind me and grabbed my bags.
     "Follow me to your room, it's nothing to big, but it's cozy."
     "Thank you so much," I said as I followed him. "You have a lovely house, it smells amazing."
     "Oh that, haha, that's just some candles I like to keep burning. Keeps the house from stinking. But, this is your room," he said while gesturing to a wooden door with a rusted doorknob. "No one really uses it, it's just s spare bedroom."
     "Thank you, it's great." I opened the door and looked inside. It was a small room, but it definitely was cozy. It had a small twin sized bed with white blankets and a wooden night stand next to it. Across from the bed was a tall black dresser with a mirror on it. The walls were a plain beige, but it was comforting. Anyways, it's not like I was going to be living here.
     "Thank you for everything, I love it." I smiled at him.
     "It's the least I can do. I'll give you some space so you can breathe and unpack. The bathroom is down the hall and to you left."
     "Alright, great." I replied unzipping my suitcases. Uncle Tom left the room and closed the door behind him.
     I took off my raincoat and checked the pockets. My guitar picks were missing? But I know I left them in my pocket. How can I lose something so important to me like that? I started worrying again.
     That's the only thing left that I had of my dad's. They can't be missing. I ripped out everything from my suitcases to make sure I didn't leave them in there. Nothing. I checked everything I brought. The box wasn't anywhere. This was exactly what I needed. Such a great welcoming to Canada.