We left before the sun was up on the fourth morning. For the portion of the plane ride that I was fully conscious, I stared out the window, my heart going a million miles a minute. I had survived a shipwreck, seven months on a deserted island, and three weeks on the open ocean. But nothing had ever terrified me as much as the prospect of going home.
The flight to Chicago was eight hours, but that was a fraction of the time I needed to feel ready. Jessie was flying back to Kentucky in two days and Toby would be catching a flight to his father's place in Michigan in the morning. My plane to Minneapolis would be leaving in two hours and the prospect of being separated from these people who had become my family left me with a sickening hollowness in my stomach. It had been bad enough leaving Rita in Costa Rica. She was scheduled to leave the hospital two days later than the rest of us. Then she would return home. I wasn't worried about her; Rita could take care of herself. My reasons for not wanting her to leave were purely selfish. We had known each other two months but in her I had found the sister I never had. We swore to keep in touch upon our parting and I left only because I truly believed we would.
Now I was breaking apart again. Toby, Jessie, and I wandered aimlessly around the airport, not saying much. We watched happy tourist families chattering away and perusing the dozens of shops. Business people hurried by with briefcases, talking a mile a minute into their bluetooth headsets. A couple of people stared at us as we passed and I couldn't really blame them. With our stringy bodies and darkly tanned skin, we looked like we had just returned from a vacation to hell. In a way I suppose we had.
An hour and a half dissolved in the blink of an eye and we found ourselves back in the waiting area where we had started. I had been trying to think of something to say ever since we had left Costa Rica but now, with Toby and Jessie just shifting their weight awkwardly and looking at their feet, I had nothing to say.
"Flight number 6079 to Minneapolis now boarding. Flight number 6079 is now boarding. Please make your way to terminal A5 at this time."
"That's me," I said unnecessarily.
Jessie moved forward and hugged me. "Goodbye, Meg," she said softly. She sounded close to tears.
I squeezed her tightly. "Bye Jess."
We released each other and before I could think too hard about it, I put my arms around Toby.
As his arms closed around me, I felt the familiar sense of security that his closeness evoked. Silently, we broke apart and I stepped back.
Then I was being ushered away towards the terminal. I glanced briefly over my shoulder at one point. Jessie waved and Toby gave me a small smile. Then I turned a corner and they were gone.
I was pretty quiet on the flight home and thankfully, I sat alone in my aisle. It was 1 o clock in the morning when might flight landed. I don't know if I'll ever forget the look on my mom's face when she saw me. Her eyes spoke volumes of relief and anguish. My dad had the softest expression I'd ever seen on his face as he hugged me so tightly I didn't know if he'd let me go. Mark hugged me too and for the first time since we were children, I saw tears in his eyes. I too, cried as I was reunited with the family I thought I'd never see again.
My house was just as I remembered it. The stars were out in full force above our deck in need of a paint job. In the back of the yard, the sheen of moonlight made the duck pond stand out against the tall grasses. Horses whickered from the neighbors' yard and though I couldn't see them, I imagined them turning blearily towards the sound of our car as my dad coasted into the garage. It felt strange that I had nothing to bring into the house as I watched my parents gather their suitcases.
I was surprised by how normal it seemed to walk into the kitchen. It was almost as though I'd never been away. My dog came trotting into the room and paused when he saw me. With a yelp of joy, he skittered across the hardwood floor and leapt onto me, his entire body wriggling with happiness. I hugged him, burying my face into his soft white fur. He smelled like a wet rag that had been left in the basement for a long time.
"Hi boy, how are you," I crooned, scratching his ears in the spot I knew he loved. "Yeah, I missed you too."
I got to my feet and looked at my parents who were lingering in the kitchen doorway, watching me. My mother had a look in her eyes that suggested she thought I might disappear at any moment. But none of that insecurity was reflected in her voice when she said, "Your room is all ready for you, hon. Do you need anything?"
I shook my head. "I just want to sleep."
I hugged them all again and without another word, I went down the hall and into my room and shut the door.