Empty Chairs and Empty Promises

Chapter Five

My flight has been extremely tiring especially with a three-hour layover in New York. Now the plane has landed, I'm excited. I look out the tiny window as we taxi to the terminal. My adventure is about to start. I can't help but produce a smile wide enough to deepen the crow's feet at the corners of my eyes.

"Your first time in Puerto Rico?" the passenger seated next to me asks.

"Yes. I'm looking forward to being here." I tap my toes with impatience--not the irritated kind, but impatience created by a little anxiety and a lot of joy. I snatch my bag from beneath the seat in front of me. I think of the list of things I need to take care of once I leave the plane -- pick up my checked bag, go to the rental car counter and head to the hotel. I booked a well-known chain hotel, and I plan on finding something else once I explore a bit.

I follow slowly behind the other passengers stopping when someone pops out of their seat to reach their carry-on bag from the overhead bin. I walk up the ramp to the terminal, and I surprise myself with the lightness of my steps. Airports are happy places with people heading off on a long awaited trip and running up to their loved ones anxiously waiting for them to appear. These are the moments which bring happiness.

I wonder to myself what Josh would think about me right now. My younger self would not hesitate to go on an adventure. The Libby I had gradually become over the years would be too intimidated even to think of the possibilities. No more negative, Lib. The constant chatter of people walking past challenges my grasp of high school Spanish. I catch a word here or there. I need to brush up, it seems.

I pick up my suitcase from the baggage claim and follow the signs towards the car rental agencies. Standing behind the counter of the business I'm looking for is a middle-aged woman with a toothy grin. I appreciate her good humor and efficiency as I walk away with the keys in my hand.

I spy the Prius in the second row. After I complete the preinspection paperwork, I throw my bag in the back. Soon, I am in traffic heading to the hotel. At this time of day, the crowded roadways make the driving hazardous as I try to avoid the multiple potholes and other drivers with the same idea. I wish the AC would kick in before I melt.

I picture the front page of the local newspaper with the headline -- "Tourist Melts on First Day" and a photo of the driver's seat with a puddle that used to be me. I crack myself up. I see the hotel sign ahead and emit a relieved sigh. It overlooks the ocean, and I had booked an oceanfront room. An instant chill touches my bare arms as I enter the hotel lobby. Goosebumps rise on my skin.

"How can I help you?" the front desk clerk asks with a smile.

"I have a reservation." I feel like twirling around with joy. I'm going to have fun!

The process of checking into the hotel is painless and before I know it I'm walking through the door of my room. The view outside the sliding glass doors on the opposite side of the room beckons me. I slide the doors open and step out onto the balcony. Leaning on my forearms I take a slow, deep breath savoring the salty ocean breeze and the blue-green expanse of the Atlantic ocean as it stretches beyond the horizon.

Why didn't Joshua and I travel here? It might have helped us remember what brought us together. I banish the thoughts of "why not" and "what if" knowing they won't help me on the journey forward but keep me moored in the remnants of a past half-lived. I need to call my kids and let them know I arrived safely. I dread making the calls and possibly face indifference from one offspring and judgment from the other.

I grab my phone and make the call to Carrie first. She picks up instantly.

"Are you okay?"

I'm surprised by the panic in her voice. "I'm fine, Carrie. Just wanted you to know I landed safely and have checked into my hotel."

"I hope you are staying somewhere safe with plenty of Americans around."

"Puerto Rico is a part of the U.S., so everyone here is an American citizen. It's beautiful here, and I have —"

"Great, Mother. Thanks for the social studies lesson. I'm busy so I'll talk to you later. Enjoy finding yourself and don't worry about the children you abandoned."

"Carrie don't be like this..." My voice trails off when I realize she hung up on me. Wow! My daughter has a bit of growing up to do. I dial Nate's number and get his answering machine. I leave a pleasant message letting him know I arrived. My maternal duties complete. I head to the bathroom to get ready to go to the beach.