Monica smiles. “Sounds good to me.”
“Then let’s get to it! We’ll take you on the way to the train,” Jay says before heading upstairs.
Everyone scatters to get ready before piling into the SUV. After Amber kisses her goodbyes and runs into her best friend’s house, the foursome take off for the city like wild teenagers. Their volume is a little too loud and laughter a little too easy. It’s just after four o’clock when they step on the train, and in less than an hour they’ll be at Grand Central Station. Through the wooded valley along the Hudson they drift out of suburbia, rallying for escape.
Grand Central hums with holiday travelers and excitement. They make their way up Fifth Avenue, huddled under umbrellas, to see the magical holiday window displays. A steady icy drizzle washes down while they marvel at the worlds built in the glass boxes.
“This was my favorite thing to do in San Francisco too at the holidays,” Monica says.
“I haven’t really seen any there,” Quinn says.
“How’s that possible?” she asks.
“I told you I haven’t really explored much. I’ve been painting a lot.”
“We never finished that tour. I want to see your latest work.”
“You’ll get to see all of it soon.” There’s a promise in his eyes.
Monica takes his warm lips with excitement.
Alone in that house? I’ll never go back to work with this body all to myself.
He nuzzles her frozen nose feeling the same anticipation to get
home
.
Megan and Jay scoot closer with their umbrella. “Did you make your studio yet? Does it look like this?” Jay points to the window display depicting a child’s imaginary winter wonderland; a beautiful snowy landscape with crystal clear reindeer and rabbits, flanked by floating fairies, and crystal ornaments dangling from a giant crystal tree.
A big toothy smile consumes Quinn. “I do most of my painting on the roof, but the room I do have looks nothing like this. It really should though.” He looks down at Monica. “Think you can help me get my shit together?”
“Sure! Not sure if the cotton snow will stay white very long though.”
He kisses her sweetly.
She’s so quick and witty, and beautiful in this light.
Monica tugs him out of his daze as they start moving on. They pass Lord & Taylor then Saks, taking in vintage Victorian miniatures and snow-making yeti fairy tales. Each one more extravagant and imaginative in wow factor. Quinn stops at Tiffany’s where vintage windows are projected on the face of the entire building. Each huge window has silhouettes of dancing couples and little square boxes. In the store’s real windows there are miniature versions of the same village full of sparkling jewels.
“I do love turquoise,” he says with a wry smile.
Monica squints at him with suspicion. “Me too. In your eyes.”
“What about these though?” He brushes her ears lobes. “And here?” He draws his finger along her collarbone before bringing her hand to his. “And these?” He lifts an eyebrow as his fingers stroke hers.
Monica stands frozen with fear. Heart pounding. Mouth dry.
Shit! Too much. I’m not ready for all this…
“Hey you guys ready for a drink? Maybe we can finish the tour after we warm up a little,” Jay says.
“You ready?” Quinn’s eye were loaded with subtext.
“For a drink? Yes.” She swallows hard.
She moves with the umbrella and follows Jay and Megan as Quinn lags a bit still staring in the windows. They shake off their coats at Connolly’s Pub, sinking into beer talk and toasts of a new year with all the possibilities it holds. A band plays an Irish folksy rock and the place starts to sing in drunken celebration. Quinn retells his talk with their dad and all the forgiveness that came along with it. Even though the events of the last couple days have been draining, it’s pulled them closer together. It makes living so far away that much harder for all of them now. Ignoring their exhaustion and aging stamina, they push their celebration through the night, not wanting it to end.
December 27th - Tuesday
They’re all packed up and ready for the two very long flights.
“I put some apps on there for you to mess with,” Megan says. She hands Monica her phone and charger which were the last items to unplug.
“Oh, and I put a ton of movies and funny videos on your iPad,” Amber says to Quinn.
He opens his arms just as she jumps up and wraps herself around him. He holds her frail adolescent frame in his cradling arms and tears up. Amber is trying to be too cool to cry, but failing. Quinn is more than just an uncle, he’s the younger, cooler version of her father, and his distance is hard to get used to.
“I love you,” he says, kissing the top of her head. “Stop growing up so fast, okay?”
Amber climbs off of him nodding her head. “When will we see you again?”
“Well, I think we should Skype on the weekends.”
“FaceTime, gosh,” she says, shaking her head. “I expect you to be more with the times than dad, but even he doesn’t still use Skype.”
Quinn looks at Jay feigning offense before getting in Amber’s face. “You sayin’ I’m getting too old? That I’m no longer with-it?”
She looks at him like he’s a freak. “Yeah.”
“What a little turd.” He grabs her and lays on the tickles.
“I told you,” Jay says. “She’s very mean about aging.”
“That will catch up to you, young lady,” Quinn says.
Monica laughs. “You’ll always be older.”
“You will always be the coolest one in the room.” Amber reaches over to Monica with arms stretched out to share a very grown-up lady hug. Amber acts annoyed by the men in the room.
“I guess that makes me, what?” Megan asks.
“You’re the other cool person in the room mom. Stop trying to be the best all the time.”
“Can you believe we put up with that?” Jay says. “Come here.” He hugs Quinn hard.
“I can believe that you’ve trained that into full maturity. She’s like you in pink.” Quinn pulls away and ducks Jay’s fist before he plants a quick kiss on his bald head.
“Thank you, for everything.” Quinn blows a kiss at Amber and grabs the suitcases.
They smile and pass I love you’s heading to the sedan waiting to take them on the next leg of their adventure. Monica made no secret of this day being her most dreaded, but she’s trying to let go to the twelve hours that’ll be lost in time and space.
At JFK, the holiday travelers pack every gate with a tension that you can smell. Kids cry and get yelled at, while the elderly try to find space to breath. Quinn can see Monica’s tension building.
“Hey, at LAX we have a little time between flights. We’ll go to the Admiral’s Club and relax.” He waits for her to perk up.
“What’s that?”
“It’s a VIP lounge. I’d take you to the one here, but it’s a little far. We wouldn’t have any time to sit down.” He waits so see if her spirits lift. “Another thing you might like, this flight is on one of the new Airbuses.”
His attempt to entice her into the adventure is sweet. Those little creases around his eyes held up by his smile always win her over. She slides her hand into his and rests her head on his shoulder.
He’s always so positive. I need that in my life.
“So this is a fancy plane huh?”
“The fanciest I could find.” He leans his chin down to kiss her head.
The first class cabin is very different from any flight she’s been on. Each passenger receives their own cubical angled away from the aisle for comfort. The seats lay flat for sleeping and every inch of space seems to have retractable trays, movable TVs, and private phones. It’s a lonely luxury, one seat per side of the plane.
He’s too far away.
Despite their location at the back of first class with a wall behind them, the option for private conversation is impossible.
Monica spends her time playing games on her phone, eating a generous hot breakfast, and flipping through movies on the flat screen, but she feels isolated and out of place. She notices the cabin of ten compartments is full of business types and wealthy passengers, most of whom look like they’re traveling alone.
Quinn watches the silly YouTube videos Amber recommended before scanning the movies she uploaded. When he sees
When Harry Met Sally
he looks at Monica fluffing her pillow in boredom attempting to nap.
This sucks. I want to sit with her.
He leans over to look through the curtain into Business Class. There’s two men, clearly not together, sitting in the twin seat configuration in the first row. A fifty year old white retiree reads Golf Digest while a very tall black businessman types feverishly on his laptop. Quinn gets up and approaches them.
“Excuse me. Sorry to bother you two,” he says. “My girlfriend and I would rather sit next to one another on such a long flight. Would you be willing to swap for our first class seats?”
“Can we do that?” the golfer asks.
“I can’t see why not. I paid for the seats. They’re very comfortable, we just want to snuggle a bit.”
“That would be great man. The more leg room the better,” the businessman says.
There’s a woman across the aisle admiring Quinn’s butt through his jeans and melting all over from his romantic sentiment. Quinn goes back into the first class cabin as the gentlemen pack up their things.
“Can I help you sir?” A red headed flight attendant nearing too old for her profession moves closer with a fake smile. “The restrooms for first class are up front.”
Quinn turns on his charm. “Yes, I know, but you see, my girlfriend and I really want to sit together. You know, cuddle and be able to talk without everyone hearing us.” He motions towards the curtain. “There are a couple of gentlemen in Business Class who’ve agreed to trade seats with us.”
“Sir, it doesn’t work like that. We cannot allow passengers who have not paid for first class sit up here.”
“Consider it a gift from me to them. I paid for these seats, I should be able to give them away.”
“I’m sorry, that’s against airline policy,” she says.
The two gentlemen are now crowding in the galley between cabins trying to listen to the conversation. “I knew they wouldn’t allow that,” one of them says.
“Excuse me, Caroline, is there a problem?”
At this point Monica is wide awake and intently listening. When all eyes capture the pilot’s presence a silence fills the cabin for a few brief seconds.
Quinn keeps his charm. “I’m sorry sir. I wasn’t trying to cause a problem.”
“Don’t worry about it, I was just using the restroom, saw something going on.”
The red head points her finger. “This man and his girlfriend want to trade seats with a couple of passengers in Business Class so they can cuddle.”
The pilot glares at her coarse tone. “So. Let ‘em.”
She stands in shock for a moment. “But Sir, it’s -”
“A stupid policy meant for upgrades to empty seats Caroline. He’s a paying passenger in the holiday spirit. Good for him. Stop trying to ruin his trip.” The pilot winks at Quinn, and reaches to shake his hand. “Enjoy the rest of your flight. I’m gonna get back to work.” He looks at the flight attendant. “Unless there’s any other issues?”
“None, Sir.” She smiles curtly and follows him to the front galley.
“That was awesome!” the businessman says ducking through the curtains.
Monica grabs her bag and laptop with a huge grin as Quinn reaches for their other things. His calm assertive reaction to the situation is a complete turn on. She’s been so used to the alpha aggressive male going off half-cocked in tense moments that her world just opened to a new trust.
I’m gonna let him handle negotiations from now on, he’s so good with people.
“If you fellas see anything that we forgot, let me know,” Quinn says.
The men thank him and show their appreciation for the generous offer while Monica parts the sea between classes and sees the first two seats to the right are empty. She takes the window and watches as Quinn settles their things and himself into his seat. The ever-present nosy neighbor doesn’t go unnoticed. She gawks at his entrance and his body before realizing Monica’s stare.
“Thank you,” Monica says to him. She leans in for a hero’s kiss and glides her fingers across his jaw, stroking it even as they release.
“I was missing you,” he says.
She lets go of him and slams her elbow into the console between the seats. “Ow fuck!”
He tries not to laugh at the irony. “Are you okay?”
She looks at the raspberry on her elbow, and starts tugging on the armrest. It goes up, but there’s still a huge divider between them that holds magazines, remote controls, and electrical controls.
“This big thing is annoying. What’s with this goofy plane?” Her pouting face shows a fading pain.
“Yeah, but at least we get to sit next to each other. We can talk.”
“True, and I’m thankful for it. I bet if you were flying alone, this plane would be great.”
“We still have another two hours, you want to try for some sleep or a movie?” he asks.