Wish Come True (The Blogger Diaries Trilogy Book 3) (4 page)

As we’re waiting, a smiling flight attendant comes by and asks if this is her first flight. I tell him yes and give him her name when he asks, and after leaving and returning once again, he brings her a certificate signed by the captain and a plastic pair of Southwest wings, their signature red heart in the middle. Little things like this make my soul happy. Call me a hoarder—I prefer ‘sentimental collector’—but I keep any and all little mementos like these. I tuck the certificate and wings into the carry on under the seat in front of me after Josalyn uses her insane baby strength to pull my hand to her mouth to get a taste of the grey and red plastic.
 

Pulling her pink moccasin-covered feet underneath her plump little butt, she gets two handfuls of my long dark hair and pulls herself up into a standing position in my lap. I anticipate it and keep her balanced when she throws her full body weight to my left, into my mom’s ninja-like reflexive arms. She’s had lots of practice with four children and seven grandbabies. Just a few weeks ago, I swear she looked like a superhero as she dove across the living room from where she was sitting in her computer chair, catching Bret right before his head hit the hardwood floor when he came off the step wrong. It’s the same step that gave me the scar on my chin when I was little. She literally caught the back of his white-blond head in the palm of her hand mere inches from the floor.

I let out a laugh as Josalyn gets herself a mouthful of MomMom’s high cheekbones, and make a funny face at her when she cuts her gorgeous hazel eyes at me as she pulls away, a line of drool bridging the gap between her grinning rosy mouth and my mom’s now wet cheek.

Finally, another flight attendant comes over the speaker and begins the safety instructions. Josalyn watches, fascinated, as the man who gave her the wings demonstrates how to use the seatbelt, oxygen mask, and life vest, and then he leans over and directs that in case of emergency, I’m to put my own mask on first, and then the baby’s. My first instinct is to say, “Oh, hell no!” thinking I’d want to protect her first. Seeing the look on my face, he has obviously explained this to first-time flying mothers before, because he explains, “If you run out of oxygen, you can’t help anyone else with their oxygen mask.”
Makes sense.
I nod in acknowledgement.
 

I take Josalyn back from Mom and sit her in my lap facing forward, opening the shade so she can watch outside as we move slowly along the tarmac. As if by magic, as soon as the plane hits full speed and lifts into the air, she falls right to sleep. I nudge Mom with my elbow and glance down at the snoozing eight-and-a-half-month-old, and with a loving smile, she lays Josalyn’s pastel-colored fuzzy blanket over us.
 

I find it impossible to sleep on flights unless I manage to score a whole row of seats to myself and can lie down. So, I quietly ask Mom to grab my paperback of Kresley Cole’s
Wicked Deeds on a Winter’s Night
from my carry-on, maneuver Josalyn to lie across my left arm, and immerse myself in the magical world of Mariketa the Awaited and Bowen MacRieve.

Josalyn doesn’t wake up the entire three-hour flight, and after the two full cans of tomato juice I’ve drank, the only thing on my mind is getting to a bathroom as soon as the doors open. But when everyone stands, grabbing their bags from the overhead compartments, and we start filing out of the bird, the sentimental part of my brain perks up when I see the pilot step out from behind the cockpit’s door. His grin is contagious as he looks at my daughter with wide eyes, asking her in his deep voice, “Is this the little one who earned her wings today?”

“Yes, sir,” I answer, laughing when she reaches her arms out to him and makes grabby hands. He glances at me, silently asking for permission to take her, and I turn her toward him.
 

As soon as she’s in his arms, she lays her chubby cheek against his chest and lets out a dramatic sigh, giggling when he tickles her floral pajama-covered belly. “Did you enjoy your first flight, little one?” he asks her in an excited, high-pitched voice.

She looks up at him and lets out some gurgling baby babble, smiling the whole time as if what she’s saying makes perfect sense and expects a response.

The pilot doesn’t disappoint. “Is that so? Well, I’ll take that into consideration on the next leg. Did you know I’ve flown with your Uncle Mark? Yeah? He is quite the character, always rapping the safety instructions.” Seeing the surprised look on my face, he explains, “We know when there are Southwest family members on the flight. Mark is a hoot.”

“How cool,” my mom says from behind me, and hearing her voice, Josalyn starts wiggling in the captain’s arms, reaching for MomMom instead, apparently finished making friends.
 

When she takes Josalyn from him, Mom tells him, “Thank you for the smooth flight. Not a single bump.”

“You’re welcome, ma’am. It’s a beautiful day today. Enjoy the nice weather here in Houston. You came during one of the only cooler months they get here.”

I start edging down the hall, my bladder standing at attention once again. Mom takes the hint at my ‘I gotta pee’ dance, tells the pilot bye, and hustles to catch up to me. “I’ve got her if you want to run ahead.”

“Ohmagosh, okay,” I rush out, and step lively toward the ladies’ restroom. I nearly collide with a woman as I round into the curved entrance, and call back an apology as I run and lock myself into a stall. I can barely keep myself from moaning aloud at the relief.
 

“We’re in here, KD,” I hear Mom say from inside the restroom. When I come out, I take Josalyn from her so she can have her turn, and then laugh when Mom doesn’t control her own relieved groan.
 

After picking up our luggage from baggage claim, which includes three suitcases and Josalyn’s car seat and stroller combo, we pick up our rental car, strap the baby in, and I pull out the directions I printed off MapQuest before we left that will lead us from Hobby Airport to Tony’s house in Kingwood. He had offered to pick us up, but knowing I’d want to spend time in Friendswood, forty-five minutes south of where he lives, I decided to get the rental.
 

It’s strange driving on the busy highways again, after living in Fayetteville for the past couple years with only its double-lane streets, but about an hour later, since we landed during rush hour, we pull into the driveway of Tony’s massive two-story all brick house. It’s 6:36 p.m. I’m supposed to meet Jason at Deerbrook at 7:30. It’ll take about twenty minutes to get there. I timed it as we passed it by on I-59 on our way here. That means I only have a half-hour to do everything I need to before I leave.
 

Mom sees what must be obvious panic in my eyes, because as I round the back of the car to get Josalyn out of the back seat, she takes ahold of my shoulders and says, “Breathe, baby girl. I know you’re excited and nervous to see him. Just take a deep breath. Let’s get all our stuff in, meet Buffy, and then you can go fix yourself up before you have to leave. I’m not going to let you drive out of here unless you are calm.”

My head gives a jerky nod as I do what she says. I take deep, soothing breaths as I pop the trunk and get the suitcases out, knowing Mom will be much better off getting Josalyn out instead of hauling the heavy luggage. I collect two of the three bags and I follow behind Mom as she hikes her granddaughter up on her hip and throws the diaper bag over her shoulder, making our way to the front door. Before we can even knock, the door is whooshed open, and standing inside the foyer is a golden goddess with long, glowing blonde hair and the brightest smile I’ve ever seen. I blink a couple times, wrapping my head around what I’m seeing. If Tony hadn’t warned me of what to expect, I would swear Reese Witherspoon is greeting me into my brother’s house.
 

“Oh, my gosh, you look just like Anthony!” she squeals, pulling me into a hug with an arm around my neck, and before my face is buried in her waist-length mane, I catch a glimpse of her eyes. They're two different colors, unique, but no less gorgeous. I let go of the suitcase handles and wrap my arms around her. A hugger. I love her already.
 

“Anthony? You call him by his full name?” I laugh.

“That’s pretty cool, I think,” my mom says, smiling at me when I turn toward her. “After all, I’m the one who named him.”

Buffy lets me go and immediately reaches for Josalyn, stealing her out of her grandma’s arms, but then pulls Mom into a tight, one-armed hug at the same time. “It’s so great to finally meet you!”
 

I can only stand back and grin, and when Buffy finally lets Mom go, she turns to me and says, “Anthony calls me a baby stalker. If there’s one in the vicinity, you can bet your ass I’m going to hold it and make it love me. I was so excited when he told me you and your baby girl were coming!”
 

Her enthusiasm and unashamed use of the curse word automatically puts me at ease. No stuck up goody two-shoes here. I should have known Tony wouldn’t pick one anyway, but it’s nice to see she is so down-to-earth.
 

“Well, you're more than welcome to hold her all you want. In the meantime, I’m going to go get the rest of the stuff.” I scoot around Mom, who's still standing in the doorway, and go to grab the last suitcase, and also the car seat out of the backseat, just in case they want to go somewhere for dinner.

As I return to the front door, I hear Buffy saying, “Anthony had to work late, but he should be here within the hour.”

“Okay, great.” Mom turns to take the car seat out of my hand. “Is that it?” At my nod, she tells me, “All right, get your stuff and go freshen up. Don’t worry about Josalyn. I’ve obviously got some good help while you’ll be gone.”

“Gone? Where are you going?” Buffy asks, confused.

“I’m meeting Jason at Deerbrook for a movie in like forty-five minutes.” Saying it aloud causes my heart to thump frantically in my chest.

“Oh, okay. I knew you were coming to spend time with your guy, but I didn’t think you’d be leaving the second you got here. Makes sense though. If it was me coming to see Anthony, I’d do the same thing.” Buffy gives me a smile and then turns to Josalyn to speak baby-talk to her, receiving a four-toothed grin and babble in return.
 

“Which room do you want us in?” I ask her.

“You and Josalyn will be in the room to the left at the top of the stairs. I’ve set up a Pack 'n Play for you in there beside the bed. And Ava, we’ve got you in Alex’s room, since he and Amanda are at his mom’s house this week. But don’t worry, she knows you’re here, so they’ll be over to visit whenever you want,” she reassures at Mom’s disappointed look. My mommy loves her grandbabies.

I take hold of my suitcase, figuring Tony can haul Mom’s up the stairs later, and drag it up the flight of carpeted steps. I heft it up onto the twin-sized bed, unzip it at lightning speed, and grab my toiletries bag from where it’s nestled between several pairs of shoes. I had the mind to pack the outfit I wanted to wear tonight on top, so I snatch it out and head toward the bathroom.
 

Throwing my hair up on top of my head with a claw, I take the fastest shower in history, washing off the airplane funk and replacing it with my current favorite scent: Calvin Klein’s Euphoria. I pull up my dark bellbottom jeans and yank on my hot pink three-quarter sleeve American Eagle Henley over the first sexy bra I’ve worn in a long time. Pregnancy and breastfeeding have confined me to comfy ones for over a year now. With that thought, I remind myself to set out Josalyn’s bottle and formula for my mom. A couple of months ago, our pediatrician thought it would be a good idea to add a bottle of formula to her diet before bed to help raise her weight’s percentile. My girl is long and lean like her mommy.
 

I brush my hair back out, using a bit of shine serum in the bristles to get the frizz out, and then put on my makeup, my hand trembling as I painstakingly apply my mascara. Finally, I throw everything back in my bag, squirt one last shot of my perfume in my hair, and toss it all into my suitcase as I pass by the room and head down the stairs. When I enter the living room, where Josalyn is cruising the giant square leather ottoman between Mom and Buffy, I glance at the time on the cable box above the big screen TV. 7:05. My heart drops into my stomach and I feel myself wobble on my feet.
 

I turn back to my mom, and I don’t even have to say a word. “We’ve got her, KD. Have fun.” And I’m out the door.

I jump when my cell phone rings in my lap, and I glance down at the name on the screen, smiling when I see it’s Jason calling.
 

“I’m almost there!” I say as my greeting.

“I might be just a few minutes late. The traffic was backed up at I-45 and 59, but I’m hauling ass now,” he tells me.

“You don’t need to haul ass. Be careful.” After a beat, I admit, “I’m so fucking nervous. Why am I so nervous? It’s you! I should just be super excited, right?”

“I literally just got off the phone with my buddy, telling him the same thing. I was like, ‘Dude, my fucking heart is about to beat out of my chest.’ He called me a pussy and set me straight. Still nervous, but past the terrified part.”

His confession makes me laugh, releasing a bit of the tension in my shoulders, and I relax back into my seat, realizing I’d been holding myself close to the steering wheel.

“Okay, beautiful. I’ll see you in a few minutes. Park at the JC Penney’s. It’s the entrance closest to the theater,” he mentions helpfully.

“All right,” is all I say before ending the call. I want to tell him how excited I am to see him, how I can’t wait to hug him for the first time in so long, but it’s like my brain is misfiring. The only thing broadcasting across my grey-matter is
Get to the mall… Get to the mall… Get to the mall…
scrolling on repeat
behind my eyeballs.
 

By the time I pull into the entryway nearest JC Penney’s and find a parking spot, my relief is completely demolished and replaced with a nervousness I’ve never felt in my entire life. I’m actually trembling, my breathing erratic, making me dizzy as my lungs dance to a completely different beat than my heart, my stomach clenching to add to all the crazy feelings going on involuntarily inside me. I don’t know which will happen to me first; will I pass out, puke, or have a heart attack?