My neck is cramping so badly when I wake up. I felt movement beside me, but it's just the old man sitting beside me going to the bathroom for the tenth time in the past two hours. I look over at Hardin, and I'm glad to find him asleep. I feel so terrible about everything that's going on, but I think he's handling it pretty well. Right? I just hope things all end up okay with Trish for her sake and for Hardin's. I know we are supposed to be going on our honeymoon after this, but I also know that if something bad does happen with Trish, there is no way we could do so.
There's only forty five minutes left in the flight, and I'm grateful I slept for most of it. To pass the rest of the time by, maybe I'll read a book. As part of my New Years resolution, I want to read every book on this random website I've seen of the top 50 works of American Literature. I've read a majority of them, but I think it'll take me about a year to finish the rest. The only book I could quickly grab to read on the plane was Hardin's copy of the Great Gatsby, which I haven't read since high school. Thankfully I packed the book in my purse instead of in the small carry-on backpack I brought, or else I'd be screwed since Hardin tucked it away in the overhead compartment.
"I hope she'll be a fool. That's the best thing a girl can be in this world, a beautiful little fool." I hear someone say over my left shoulder. When I turn to my left, I notice the college-age-looking guy smiling at me.
"Sorry... what?"
"The Great Gatsby, it's one of my favorites." He nods his head towards the book in my hand.
"It's been a while since I've read it."
He chuckles deeply. "I've read it a lot if you haven't been able to tell."
"Yeah, the quoting of the book gave that away."
"It's hard to believe that people actually read anymore. With Hulu and Netflix, I'm surprised people do anything that might strengthen their brains."
"No hate on Netflix, but books are so much better."
"Wow." He's staring at me intensely, and I'm not sure if I like it. I turn my head back to the book and put my headphones in to block out the nosiness of the aircraft, and to also stop further conversation. He seems nice enough, but I can just tell his conversing with me wasn't 'friendly'. The last thing I need is to be talking to some guy five years younger than me while my husband sleeps two seats down.
I get a decent way into the book before I see the seat belt light turn on. I'm excited to be landing after a long seven and a half hours on this plane. It still hasn't registered yet that I'm going to England again. The last time I was here was one of the worst experiences of my life, so I hope this trip can replace those bad memories. I hate to even call this a trip because we are only here to visit Trish in the hospital. In reality, this trip could easily be just as bad as its predecessor. I take out my earbuds, put my tray table up, and begin to gather my belongings. As I'm collecting everything, the book slips from my lap and falls onto the floor.
"I got it." My friendly seat neighbor offers.
"Thanks..."
"Jeremy." He sticks his hand out for me to shake.
"Tessa." I introduce myself and swiftly take the book from his hand, shoving it into my purse.
"Could I make another suggestion for when you're done? You should try The Catcher in the Rye, another classic like Gatsby."
I laugh at the irony of this whole conversation. "I've read it before." Little does he know who he's speaking to.
"Probably in high school right? Well, how about Pride and Prejudice?"
"I was an English major in college, so I've read a vast majority of the classics."
"No way! I was an English minor at Cambridge but I went the Pre-Med track."
"You're British?" I don't hear an accent, but maybe I'm so accustomed to Hardin's that his is from a different part of England.
"No, I'm from Jersey, but I went to school here in the UK. Now, I'm a resident-"
"Ladies and Gentlemen, we'll be landing shortly, please fasten your seatbelts." The pilot interrupts him.
"It's good to be home dude." His friend jabs him on the shoulder and begins talking to him. Hardin's still sleeping as I feel the plane land on the ground. I begin to clap as we land, and no one else joins in except for the old man next to me.
"Ah, so you're one of those people who clap when the plane lands too." He smiles at me, and I laugh.
"Yeah, I always have been."
Five minutes later, the plane is at the gate, and they're ready to begin letting people off. I'm exhausted, but it's only 2:30 here. This is gonna be a long ass day.
"Oh, you're pregnant." Jeremy says as I stand up. Now that the lights are on, he can probably see that I have a stomach.
"Yeah, I'm five months."
"Wow, congratulations! And a wedding ring I see." He points to the ring on my finger. I guess it must've been so dark he couldn't see anything before.
"Yep." I remark awkwardly.
"Noted. You've found your Heathcliff?" He jokes.
"She sure has." Hardin steps into the isle, and leans against the seat across from us. "Hardin Scott, her husband." He reaches out his hand to shake, but I can sense the sarcasm in his gesture.
"Uh... Jeremy, her seat neighbor." He shakes his hand, and Hardin widens his eyes in surprise at his comment.
"After you." He steps aside so Jeremy and his friend can walk into the isle. Hardin grabs my hands and pulls me out into the isle. I know what he's gonna do before he even does it.
"Hey." I smile, but he doesn't even reply, he just plants a big kiss on my mouth. Ugh, Hardin is so fucking protective and possessive.
"Hi. I missed you."
"Well, we're here. We're back in England!" I jump up and down, the thought finally hitting me after all this time.
"Home sweet home." He remarks sarcastically as he grabs my backpack from the overhead compartment.
"I just texted Mike. He should be here in about forty-five minutes, so that should leave us enough time to go through customs and the baggage claim."
Hardin nods, avoiding eye contact with me. I know he's nervous about seeing his mother. I don't want to push him or give him any false hope, but I hate to see him this way.
It takes us about ten minutes to finally leave the airplane. Hardin always complains about Heathrow since it's always crowded, and customs is always an issue for foreigners.
"You're so lucky you have an English passport so you don't have to go through customs." I complain as I approach where I need to get my passport checked.
"I'll meet you on the other side." Hardin lets go of my hand and walks to the line for EU citizens.
Surprisingly, the line to get through isn't that long. It's much faster now that they have new technology that just allows your passport to be scanned quickly. Hardin only makes it out a few minutes before I do.
Heathrow is such a big airport, I would get lost so quickly if I were just here by myself. Thankfully, Hardin has been here enough times to know where everything is. It's so strange hearing all the British accents around me and through the loudspeaker. I forgot what it's like to be a foreigner since I've only ever been one once. We grab our luggage and finally make it outside.
"Welcome to England." Hardin lifts his hands to show the hundreds of cars honking and people yelling happening outside of the airport. The sky is gloomy, and it's freezing. This is the magic of England...
"I'll call Mike." I take out my phone, but Hardin puts his hand on my arm.
"Don't. There he is."
I look to where Hardin is pointing and see a small figure far in the distance that resembles Mike. If he weren't waving at us, I would not have recognized that was him.
"How the hell did you see that?" I ask Hardin as we approach Mike's car, but he ignores my question.
"Hi guys, how was the flight?" Mike seems frantic as he grabs my luggage and puts it in the trunk of his car.
"Not too bad, we got here in one piece."
"I'm glad you guys made it. Thanks for coming on such a short notice." He tries to grab Hardin's bag, but Hardin takes the liberty of putting in the back of Mike's car himself.
"Of course."
Hardin doesn't say a word before getting in the car. I follow suit and sit in the seat next to him.
"Trish is at St. Thomas' Hospital in London, so that's about a forty-five minute drive from here."
"St. Thomas?" Hardin questions Mike. "That's where I was born."
"Yeah, it's quite a big hospital, but it was the closest one to the crash site."
"So, what exactly happened?" I ask.
"Trish went to get some crumpets from our local cafe before I woke up for work. She was walking there, and a car hit her. I don't know what else really happened since I woke up to the police banging on my door, as I explained on the phone..."
"Wait a second, a car hit her as she was walking?" I assumed that Trish was in a car accident, as in she was also in a car. The fact that she was hit while walking on the street makes this ten times more scary.
"It was a drunk driver type of situation according to the police, but I'm still waiting for Trish to wake up to get her side of the story. She's been pretty groggy, but she should be more with it when we get there."
"That's terrible." I grab ahold of Hardin's hand and grasp it. This must be so hard for him to hear.
"She'll be so happy you two are here, especially you, Hardin. I can't imagine what this must be like for you."
"Yeah, it fucking sucks." He whispers, keeping his attention to the passing cars outside his window.
"I just hope everything is okay."
"Me too." Mike nearly sobs, and I'm surprised I'm keeping myself composed right now.
"Anyway, on a lighter note, I sent Hardin some wedding photos a few days ago."
"Oh, I didn't get to see them. Can I?" I hold my hand out for Hardin's phone, but he makes no move to get it. I slip my hand into his pocket and pull it out myself. "You e-mailed him?"
"Yeah, they were mostly the candid ones, not the staged ones. They all turned out pretty well, I think."
As I scroll through the email containing the photos, I'm transported back to that special day. There are pictures of Hardin and me eating cake, well shoving it in each other's faces, and also pictures from our first dance. I see a couple photos of me dancing with Noah, as well as photos of Hardin dancing with Trish. Mike even wrote underneath the photo that it was Trish's favorite. Seeing Hardin happy dancing with his mother makes me more excited than ever to have a child. Hardin is the example of treating his mother pretty crappy, but at the end of the day, he loves her deeply.
"They're wonderful. Thanks again."
"Of course. It was an honor, plus it was nice to dust off the photography skills."
Just as I'm about to turn Hardin's phone off, an email pings from his phone... an email that I probably wasn't meant to see.
Dear Mr. Hardin Scott,
Thank you for expressing your interest in our adoption agency. Millions of mothers across the world are looking for a loving home for their newborn babies. I provided the link to start the process of adoption if still interested. The sooner you start, the sooner you can be united with a child in need of a loving home. You also expressed interest in learning more about our surrogacy program, which is a popular option as well. Don't hesitate to email me back if you have any questions.
Best,
Harriette Morrison
Hardin was in contact with an adoption and surrogacy agency? I'm assuming he was curious about this before I became pregnant, but why wouldn't he tell me he was looking into this?
Great. Another day, another fucking secret.