Heading Home
by
Mindy Blanchard
Arriving at Gate 14 weary from the delayed flight, Erin glanced at her watch, anxious to begin her workday. She lived her day by the markings on her calendar. Even during the current times of PDAs and personal assistants, this old-fashioned girl preferred lugging her notebook-sized calendar everywhere she went.
A snowstorm the night before caused a layover in Memphis. The board meetings for the past three days left her so tired her bones ached. Instead of enjoying her night in a new city far from home, she went straight to the hotel, ordered room service, showered, and passed out, in that order, too tired to eat when the food arrived. The layover forced her to reschedule everything for today. With important deals and her job on the line, Erin fought back an anxiety pain and wiped her hands on her coat. She loathed any altering of her schedule.
For a frequent flier, death in the tiny confines of airplane bathrooms remained one her greatest fears. So Erin refused to use the facilities while in flight. She planned her bathroom needs around flying time. During every flight, she remained buckled securely in her seat, fully clothed in case anything, like the plane, went down.
Now that she arrived on solid ground, Erin fought through the mob of travelers heading to the nearest bathrooms. She completed her pressing business and freshened up in front of the bathroom mirror, glancing from the pink button-down shirt to her black dress pants to insure that her appearance remained presentable. Satisfied, she buttoned her gray wool coat and grabbed her bag.
Hurrying out of the woman's bathroom, Erin's steps quickened with the staccato beat of her casual yet tasteful traveling shoes. She followed the signs toward baggage claim. A sense of calm flowed through her at the thought of each step taking her closer to home. She double-checked the overhead signs, ensuring she headed in the right direction, and settled her carry-on more securely on her shoulder.
She smoothed down a few wisps of tousled red hair escaping the intricate knot at the nape of her neck. Reaching the baggage claim area, Erin spied her plaid suitcase and hurried over to collect it.
All of her property accounted for, she maneuvered the black carry-on and the jam-packed suitcase-on-wheels. Erin turned to the throng of people waiting to greet loved ones. Her hazel eyes roved around the crowd; she gasped and stumbled. She managed to stay upright but her steps slowed.
Erin's eyes tracked him from across the room. He appeared relaxed with a warm smile playing upon his luscious lips; his eyes seemed to search the room. Her fingers itched to touch the wet, shoulder-length black hair curled around his ears.
Two anxious twins, about four years old or so, a boy and girl, stood on each side of him holding up a handmade sign that said, “Welcome Home, Mommy!” Delight shined in their cherub faces. They danced around in impatience. Their curly red hair blazed under the reflection of the overhead lights.
The girl removed her chubby hand from inside her mouth to tug on the leg of his pants. “Where's mommy?” She asked with a frown upon her pink lips.
Before he could answer, the boy started screeching, “I want mommy, mommy, mommy.”
He looked down at their upturned faces and hugged them to his legs. “She'll be here soon.”
Erin's heart swelled up and seemed to clog her throat. She looked towards the overhead light, to stem the tears threatening to explode from her eyes. Her walking slowed even further as she neared them.
The smell of his cologne intermingling with plain soap and his own special scent tickled her nose. Taking a deep breath, she pulled his tantalizing scent inside of her. Erin could already feel the warmth of his arms pulling her weary body close to his side. He would tuck her under his strong arms, as the twins fought over who could get into her loving arms first. At last, she would be home.
A tall woman barreled past Erin, almost knocking her over.
“Sorry,” the woman murmured without stopping.
Erin released a held breath and quickened her pace toward the glass doors. Unable to resist once she reached the door, she looked back to find the heartbreaking scene of the family showering hugs and kisses on the lucky mother. Silent tears mixed with falling snow on her reddened cheeks. Erin's mouth thinned; she turned from the image and walked through the bitter cold to the taxi waiting to take her to the office.
BIO: Mindy Blanchard lives in Louisiana while pursing her Bachelor's degree at the University of Louisiana at Lafayette. She enjoys getting swept away in a good book, avoiding reality television, trying foods from around the world, and traveling whenever she can. Mindy can be found working intensely, though it may look a little like daydreaming, on stories of Paranormal Romance, Fantasy, and Mystery.
Motivation: The motivation for this piece was a writing exercise exploring different emotions.
Photo © by Paolo Ferla