JESSIE
And then there's four days, then three, then we're packing as much as we can, signing Connor out of school one last time, letting him pick which things he wants to take on the plane to keep himself entertained, fitting the rest of the clothes that we have at Jorgen's parents house into a borrowed suitcase and trying not to cry when Connor says he's going to miss Jorgen's parent's dog, Dolly.
And then it's the night before. The night before everything changes again, the night before the rest of my life, the night before the hardest move I've ever made, the night before I can start all over again. Just me and Connor and Jorgen against the world. The first time I've parented truly on my own without someone much older than me there that's done it before to tell me when I'm doing things wrong or changing things that I shouldn't be.
And for some reason, I'm not nervous. I'm just excited. Excited and prepared and some part of me is a little scared about it, a little scared about all of it, but more than that, I'm ready. I can't wait for tomorrow, for next week, for the start of the rest of things. For a new beginning.
"Jessie, sweetheart, can I borrow you away from your packing for a moment? I know last minute packing and things is probably pretty stressful but I want to say something." Linda has her head in the door to my room, her thinking face on.
"Yeah, sure," I sit up from my packing but she just slips into my room instead, sitting down on my bed that was made for the last time this morning.
I stand and sit next to her, a little nervous about where this conversation is going to go, about any of it.
"I'm proud of you," she starts, her hands folded in her lap, an honest expression on her face. "And I'm so excited that you're going up to live with my son but I'll miss you around here, of course I will. My son is not an easy one to manage, I've said this before, he's not a guy a lot of people can work with easily but you do it so incredibly well I'd be holding a candle to the way you two interact to say that it's incredible."
I pull my legs up and cross them, a little confused but she's got the air like she's going to keep talking so I let her.
"And I'm saying this now, because I know it's true, of all the people in this world that I've met that are parents, every single one of them, you're one of the best. Not a lot of very young parents get that award in my head, if any, but you can handle everything and I've seen it. You balanced your son through the end of school last year all while going through that with your family, changing houses twice, finding your support systems, moving in with people you've never met just because they were your last line and you knew they were good people. You did everything almost exactly perfect and you didn't crumble for a second, not once in all of this, all summer, the entire time that I've known you, did you take out even a scrap of that anxiety on Connor or any of the rest of us. You held it with poise and every day I'm amazed by it. You've dealt with what Connor's been going through at school with such grace that I'm stunned every time you come up with just the perfect solution. Jorgen, Joey and I are infinitely lucky to have you in our lives."
"Thanks," I peep, barely able to come up with anything other than a blush.
"This summer has changed almost everything about how I look at the world. Because of you, I know my son a lot better than I did beforehand, I know why he was who he was when he was younger and why he is who he is now and I'm hoping that I can do some late phase parenting with my two boys and hope to fix my little messed up family out of your inspiration. Because of you and Connor I'm forever more grateful of what opportunities I was given and time that I had. I'll always always always interact differently because of what you've taught me about being human. You might not think that you have a lot of effect in this world, Jessie, but you've changed most of my life as I know it and you'll forever inspire the hell out of me.
"I have no idea how you do it, how you do all of it, how you're just infinitely gracious and kind despite how much has been thrown at you. Honestly I'm starting to think that you're just a little red haired angel because no person I've ever known has even half the capacity to be as good as you are all the time for just one hour. And I know you might argue that and say that you have bad days or that you're not all that but in my head you one hundred percent are."
"Linda I- I don't know what to say I-"
"A few more things," she cuts me off with a smile. "Before you go, less on the sentiment and more on the advice. Don't let them keep their legos on the ground floor. You will step on them and it will be the most awful thing to happen at two in the morning ever. Two, Jorgen has this little coffee grinder that he makes fresh coffee with on the weekends, something about the beans, it's annoying as all hell and he's a morning person so it normally goes off at like seven in the morning on weekends. Three, his hours for the team are a little bit wild, I hope that from what I know from visiting him that they're not insane when you first settle in but he is a bit of a workaholic and games require him to hang around the rinks until midnight or later, this is not a cause for concern, he's not going out or doing something dumb. Four, Joey and I are planning on coming up to visit you for Christmas. You can veto this."
I have to cover my laugh with my hand, "the legos are that bad, huh?"
"That's why they're in the basement here. I swear I stepped on one once and saw gods I don't even believe in," she puts her hand over her forehead for the drama. "Put them in the basement. Trust me, put them in the basement."
"Will do," I laugh. "Does he have any other quirks I should know before moving in with him?"
She frowns, "oh, yeah, actually, the prosthetic legs do start to have a small funk to them if he wears them too long, which he does chronically, so remind him to use his crutches when he's at home to avoid the weird smell and the muscle pain from having them on too long. The man cannot wellness check himself and toughs out everything all the time so if you see him doing something dumb, stop him."
"Gross," I smile.
"Yeah, truly," she says. "Oh, if he gets sick, he snores. Pretty badly too. Just shove him onto his side and that normally fixes it. Oh, and if you decide to enter a relationship with him just remember that kissing someone with stubble for too long runs the risk of it causing a shallow infection due to the little lacerations. He'll handle it fine and know how to treat it but he will not know that beards do that because, as far as I know, he's never kissed anyone with a beard. I have, it sucks, the little rash sucks, blah blah. Also, during one of the November games, not sure if it's passed yet, he'll shave that down to a mustache for their men's health game and it's awful, don't mention it, he also does not like the way the mustache looks but he does it because the team does it and he can and..." she fades out. "It's just not good. Trust me."
"Jorgen with a mustache?" I frown.
"Jorgen with a mustache. He looks like a 1920s businessman."
"That's certainly a description. Anything else I need to know?"
She shrugs, "not that I know of, though if something pops up, give me a call. I'm his mom, I know almost all the weird little things he does."
"Of course," I laugh. "Well, um-"
"Thanks," she stops me. "What I meant to come in here and say, at the end of it all, is thanks, and I'll always back you on everything. You're the most amazing Mom I've ever met and you're just a sweetheart of a person too and I really, truly, hope that this move goes well and if not, you're always welcome back here any time."
"Thank you."
"And I'm warning you, I will cry at the airport tomorrow."
"Me too," I feel the flush creep up my cheeks. "I suppose Connor and Joey will just have to deal with that."
"I suppose," she opens her arms and I fall right into the hug, glad that somewhere, even if I am moving away tomorrow, there's Linda Hadley, my number one supporter.
***
"I'm going to miss you most," Connor is sitting peacefully on the floor, Dolly, Jorgen's old basset hound, plopped in his lap, looking lazily up at him.
The dog does not respond to his comment and I watch Connor consider that for a second before hugging Dolly, arms around her back, full squeeze and everything. The dog looks up at me with a half-pleading look on her face before Connor pulls back, holding the dog's shoulders and looking at her, trying to memorize each tuft of fur.
That's when Dolly decides it's a good time to lick Connor square in the face.
"Ew," he mumbles when she stops. "I told you, Dolly, I don't like getting licked in the face, your breath isn't very good."
The dog does it again.
"Seriously, Dolly."
It takes another forty minutes to leave the house, final checks, making sure Connor's carryon is okay to go through TSA, all of that. I'm letting Joey manage most of the stuff surrounding the plane considering I've only flown once in my entire life and Connor hasn't even been in an airport.
Once we're in the airport, and we're early, Joey and Linda made sure we're here at least two hours ahead of schedule, just for safety reasons, they stop us right before entering the security lines.
"Alright," Joey slides his hands into his pockets. "On the rest of the process. You get through this, do everything that security tells you to do, shoes off for you, not for Connor, then you get through to the other side, customs leaving is easy, it'll be harder in Canada. O'Hare sucks, trust me, but you'll be able to find your terminal rather easily. I showed you the map, you know where you're going. Sit there and wait, go to the bathroom, get a snack if you want, then when they start boarding just go with your boarding group, easy as that. Then you're basically set to go. Layover in Toronto, I'm not sure about anything customs related there, you'll need to ask someone. It'll be weird. Then you'll shift to your next terminal, that's easy, then wait. You have time. Then it's just Toronto to Regina. Canadian customs are so much nicer than American, just follow what they say and if you're nervous enough they'll know that you don't know what you're doing. I really truly wish that Jorgen was flying out to meet you here and then fly back because he does this all the goddamn time but he can't. The second you're out of customs they spit you into baggage claim. He'll be on the other side there and you're good to go."
"Okay," I breathe out. "The only rough patches are customs, right?"
"Right," he nods. "It's just paperwork you have to do really quick and then declare that you're not, I dunno, smuggling something. Just say where you're going and why but it's probably better to tell them you're just visiting Jorgen. Oh, and," he looks between the two of us. "Declare relation to him, that'll help."
"Got it," I nod. "Anything else?"
"Not that I remember, no," he frowns. "If you need help with anything, call either Jorgen or us. Jorgen will be more help with customs than I'll be, it's been a few years since I've flown internationally. It's been like four days for him. If you get lost anywhere, missing anything, confused or any of that, ask someone. They're there to help and as long as you're not asking for fifteen more seats to magically appear on a plane they'll be happy to assist."
"Okay," I breathe out. "Alright, this is a lot but I got it. I think I've got it."
"You definitely do," he smiles. "It's just airports, they're designed to be awful. Also, the second you get back to Jorgen's house you're going to want to change into comfortable clothes and shower because not only are they a disgusting mess of things, they're also filthy."
"Oh, wonderful," I say. "Ew."
"Truly," he sighs. "Okay, now, hugs goodbye everyone before we send you on your way."
I pause for a second but Connor seems perfectly on board with that, launching himself up into Joey's arms first, and then Linda's before hopping back to the floor next to his backpack, clearly excited to get going.
I take a little longer, getting pulled into a joint hug between the two of them, "thanks you two, for everything, really. I couldn't have done it without you. I'm serious."
"Of course," Joey responds, pulling back with his arm around Linda, one hand on my shoulder, her hand on my other shoulder. "We were happy to help."
"If you two need anything else, seriously, keep us in the loop," Linda brushes a tear off her cheek. "And if things start going off the rails up there, we're always back here if you need our help, if you need to stay with us again, anything. Just give us a call and we'll be right there."
"I can't thank you guys enough," I swallow over the lump in my throat. "Really. You helped me without batting an eye even though it meant giving up your house and your time for the entire summer and feeding two extra people, all of it. It's the best possible thing that could've happened for me in that situation."
"You needed it, karma owed you," Joey smiles, rubbing his thumb on my shoulder. "Now go go, we'll see you again in a month. You have passports, your license?"
"Joey," Linda smacks his chest. "We've been over this a hundred times."
I smile over my cloudy vision, "yes, I have both of those things."
"Good," he looks down at Connor. "Now you be good for your Mom today and then go give your Dad a big hug."
He stands up straight, giving Joey a joking salute, "aye-aye captain."
Joey just laughs and we're pulled into one last big group hug, a little too much sniffling between Linda and I before they push us off toward the security lines.
Security, surprisingly, goes perfectly fine, they realize almost immediately that this is Connor's first time on a plane and help us a ton more than some of the more frequent flyers that are around us, then pop us out the other side with a point and instructions to our gate. Connor has to stand near me while I put my shoes back on again and that's when he produces the first of many smuggle-over-the-border jokes of the day.
"Stealing the boat to go into the pacific would've been easier than that," he tips his head, watching me tie my shoe. "Then you could keep your shoes on."
We find the gate rather easily despite how long of a walk it is from the security we started in to the gate that says YYZ, TORONTO PEARSON. Departure in one single hour.
Connor manages not to go insane out of boredom, bouncing around and drawing a little before making a friend with the kid sitting near us.
We board in the second to last group and when I sit down I'm suddenly very glad that Jorgen isn't with us because if this seat is small, I'm absolutely not sure how he, six foot five almost six foot six, long legs, big proportions, broad shoulders, manages to cram himself into one of these seats.
JESSIE: made it into the plane, how on earth do you manage to fly in these so often?
JORGEN: ah. We fly private. I only use commercial when I have to.
JESSIE: lucky, damn. I'll text when we hit Toronto
JORGEN: Yep. Keep Connor entertained and do tell him that moving his jaw will pop his ears because it's going to be weird. Also if you act fascinated with the whole process, he won't be scared of it.
JESSIE: the last time I was on a plane was like eight years ago, I'm not quite sure I can trick myself into not being scared of it
JORGEN: it's cool, if you think about it hard enough
JORGEN: good luck
It's not cool. It's very not cool. I act like it's the coolest thing ever but I'm pretty sure Connor catches onto my hand gripping the armrest like no tomorrow.
He makes another a trench under the border would've been less scary joke and then we're in the air.
Chicago to Toronto is only an hour and a half. Then we're stuck in Toronto and I'm not sure if I was actually conscious of anything that was happening or if I was running on raw stress.
I text Jorgen again getting on the plane for the flight from Toronto to Regina. He tells me the time for the flight, over three hours, and then tells me that he'll be done at work about a half hour before we get to him, so he'll still be in his work gear.
Which is alright, I guess, I mean I assume it's almost the same as the stuff he wore for Chicago East, which admittedly was an incredibly attractive getup, so hopefully his uniform for Regina is toned down a little bit so I can handle seeing him for the first time since I kissed him back a month ago without going into some sort of damn you're hot haze.
"So when do I tell him that I know he's my Dad," Connor breaks me from my thoughts halfway through the flight, waiting for me to decide on a word for our hundredth round of hangman.
"Um," I look down at him. "I'm not sure."
"Whenever I feel like it?" He looks up at me, swinging his legs in the freespace he has in the seat.
"Not... immediately," I decide on a word. "Just whenever you feel like it's the right time."
"The right time would've been on the boat coming around north," he cracks a smile. "But alas, I must wait."
"When did you learn that word," I laugh.
"Joey," he looks out the window for a second. That's been his favorite part of the whole day, looking out the window on the plane. He finds it fascinating for some reason that I don't understand. For some reason it puts a little pit in my stomach knowing how far up we are.
"Okay, here's your hangman," I slide the notebook toward him and he stares down at it.
"E."
I mark it down as a miss.
We manage to make it through another hour of flying before they announce descent into Regina.
It's time.
***
happy holiday crapton-of-posts week
this is a thanks for dealing with all the weird "can't post today" posts from this semester
-rabid