Wilson Mooney Eighteen at Last (5 page)

“
Wilson, wait. You can’t
do that.”

“
Oh really? Watch me,” I
teased back.

“
No, really—you can’t.” He
sped to catch up.

“
I can’t, huh?” I started
jogging.

“
No, I mean you
can
, but you won’t want
to,” he projected. My suitcase trailing behind me created the
perfect obstacle.

“
Really, why?” I stopped.
Max, however, didn’t and his foot caught the edge of my suitcase.
He stumbled; his arms went flailing through the air before he was
able to catch his stride. My heart sunk. I went rigid and couldn’t
breathe.

He dropped his duffle bag and stood
silent for a moment. After he caught his breath, he spoke slowly
and deliberately. I felt like such an idiot.

“
Sweetheart, we aren’t
leaving the airport that way.” He reached out to me and I rolled my
suitcase over to him. “We have to go toward the first terminal to
catch our ride.”

I nodded and then watched him scoop up
the strap of his duffle bag, pull on the handle of my suitcase, and
hold out his free hand. When I didn’t arrive fast enough, he looked
back at me with glowering eyes. I hurried to clutch his hand, he
gave me his heart-melting smile, and I kissed him on the
cheek.

“
Sorry I made you trip,” I
whispered.

“
Yeah, well, if it wasn’t
your birthday and I wasn’t so madly in love with you—” his voice
trailed off as he squeezed my hand.

Wait! What did he just
say? Oh my God, he just said it. Hold it together, Wilson; hold it
frickin’ together. Breathe, breathe, slowly breathe. He loves
me!

The bubble that stuck in my windpipe
tickled and struggled to break the energy that spastically fought
to hold it back. I wanted to blurt out how much I loved him too. I
pressed my head against his bicep and twisted my arm around his. He
loved me; nothing else mattered—until I heard her voice.

“
Excuse meeee. I’ve been
waiting here for over ten minutes and not one of you people has
done anything to help me. You have the worst customer service ever.
I can’t believe you are still in business. If my father ran his
business this way, we would be destitute,” Cindy barked at two
girls—one behind the cash register and the other standing next to a
rack loaded with brochures. She had them both in tears within
seconds. Nobody deserved to be attacked by Cindy, but there was a
snowball’s chance in hell that I was going to be the one to break
it up. Not with Max on my arm. I could feel the pit of my stomach
churn and the muscles across my shoulders twist up my neck. I had
to make sure she wasn’t going to see us together.

“
Wilson, that sounds
like—”

“
Cindy,” I answered as I
hid behind him. “We’ve gotta get out of here. If she sees us
together, we’re so screwed. She thinks I am staying with Joanie for
winter break.”

Not to mention the fact that I wasn’t
completely sure she hadn’t seen the text messages from Max on my
phone when I accidentally left it on my bed several weeks ago. I
was keeping an eye on her Twitter and Facebook accounts, watching
for the bomb she’d been waiting to drop. Amazingly enough, she
hadn’t un-friended me yet; but there were some questionable posts
about “friends” who have taken advantage of her
generosity.

Just as I ducked behind a column, I
heard Cindy blurt out.

“
Oh, Mr.—Max, what a small
world we live in. Did you travel solo?”

“
Hello, Cindy. Ahh, yeah,
I came out alone this trip. Yep, just me,” Max stumbled over his
words.

Cindy was a viper; she could look at
any situation and tell you how it was going to turn out. If Max
didn’t play it off well, she was going to see right through
him.

“
Well, had I known you
were traveling alone, I would have booked my flight with yours. We
could have been travel buddies. That is unless your girlfriend
would mind,” she fished for an answer.

“
Oh, well, I don’t
think…well maybe she’d…” he fumbled for words.

Come on, Max. Pull it
together; tell her you have to go. Get rid of her.

“
Well, Cindy, I think she
might have a problem with me talking to such a pretty girl.” He
smiled and she giggled her annoying laugh before she batted her
eyelashes.

“
Oh, Max, now be careful
what you say, I’m still your student you know; but only for six
more months. Where is this elusive girlfriend of yours, anyway?”
She grabbed his arm and winked.

My face burned hot, my ears were on
fire; my heart pounded rapidly in my chest. How dare she flirt with
him!

“
I’d better get going.
Happy Holidays, Cindy.” Max turned to leave.

“
Well, it looks like you
didn’t travel too lightly this trip,” Cindy called out as she
flipped her shiny blonde hair back off her shoulder.

“
Huh?” Max
answered.

“
The lavender suitcase;
please don’t tell me that’s yours?” she said
deliberately.

I could see his body
tighten as I peeked from behind the big, round cement
column.
She knows—I can feel it.
She was playing cat and mouse with him.
Please, Max, please don’t crack.

“
Well, yeah, as a matter
of fact, it isn’t mine,” his voice rose. My heart stopped. “It’s my
girlfriend’s. I had a lot to bring on this trip, so she let me
borrow it.”

“
Thank God, because that
bag is just way too feminine for a brute like you.” She faked a
boxer punch to his arm. “Besides, it reminds me of my
back-stabbing, vulgar roommate, Wilson—who, by the way, used me to
get a ticket out here to Aspen so she could make out with my douchy
step-brother.

What? AS IF—I didn’t make
out with Nick. Give me a break, that’s the last thing I would
consider doing. I can’t believe she told him that. She is such a
bitch!

Max cleared his throat and changed the
subject. “Did you just fly in today?”

“
No, I’m waiting for my
father. He got stuck on the East Coast. So much for a traditional
family Christmas. Anyway, did you need a ride? I have a car out
front, we can take you.”

“
Oh, no, I’m good,” Max
stuttered.

“
Well, let me give you my
cell number in case you need to call me.” She pulled out a pen from
her purse, snatched his arm, and tickled her fingers across his
hand before she scribbled her number on his palm. He didn’t pull
away. He just stood there and let her ho-bag hands touch
him.

I grabbed my cell phone and dialed
him. I couldn’t believe it took three rings to finally get his
attention.

Max snagged his phone from
his pocket. “I have to take this call,” he said to Cindy, making
huge deliberate motions. She held up her hand—her thumb to her ear
and her finger to her lips—as she walked away.
Call me
, she mouthed to
him.

Yeah, like he would really
call you.

“
Hey,” he sang into my
ear.

“
Hi, I thought I should
save you from trouble,” I said as I watched him walk the opposite
direction from Cindy.

“
Thanks, I almost got away
before she tagged me.” I watched him hold his hand up in front of
his face.

“
Yeah, she was pretty
quick with giving you her digits,” I teased.

“
You didn’t like that,
huh?”

“
Not particularly,” I
answered.

“
She only wants to make
sure I get home,” he mused.

“
She wants to
take
you home—with
her.”

“
Oh, come on, not Cindy.
I’m not her type,” he played. “Besides, sounds like maybe Nick
would like to take you home too,” he whispered.

“
Well, that’s just Cindy
planting and hoeing in your garden.”

“
What? My garden? I don’t
get it,” he questioned.

“
I’ll explain later,” I
spat.

“
Meet me by the restrooms
on the left; I need to scrub her number off my hand. And, Wilson,
let’s hope you don’t run into Nick.”

“
Ditto,” I
replied.

I slipped the phone into
my pocket and felt my stomach churn with the dread of having to
deal with the seeds Cindy had planted in Max’s head.
Okay, so what if Nick did kiss me last time I saw
him? It wasn’t mutual—he kissed me, I didn’t kiss him. It wasn’t
like I enjoyed it. Far from it. I pushed him away.

I glanced over at Cindy and watched
her cast a nasty look at the girls in the gift shop before she
tromped off toward the baggage claim. I scanned the area and
noticed that there was another huge, cement column next to the
men’s restroom. If I was going to make it without being seen, I had
to make a dash for it now. I clung to the wall, studying the
rhythms and patterns of the people scampering through the airport.
One man dragged two suitcases while the woman next to him pulled a
little girl behind, screaming to go back to the gift shop. A family
of four was jogging in a line, maneuvering through the crowd to
their next gate, panicked that they were going to miss their
connecting flight. Finally, a group of wide-eyed tourists moseyed
past; it was now or never to get lost in the middle of them as they
made their way toward the restrooms.

I glanced back at where Cindy had
stood, but she was gone; lost in the droves of passengers fighting
for positions at their Disneyland-type vomit monsters that
regurgitated their suitcases. I pushed off the wall and darted into
the center of the tourists. They were speaking loud, violent,
consonant-heavy words; it took me a second before I realized they
were speaking in German. I flashed an apologetic smile as I glanced
at them. Sailing with them among the raging waves of hurried
passengers, I bobbed and swayed to avoid capsizing among the
masses. I reached the restrooms without incident, and was even able
to give a slight smile and tiny wave to the crew who’d gotten me
across the turbulent sea of people.

Just as I took a deep breath to clear
away the anxiousness of the last several minutes, Max was coming
out of the men’s room.

“
Hey, sweetheart—look,
good as new.” Max held up his hand, palm toward me. No digits, no
hearts, no reminiscence of Cindy violating my man with a ballpoint
pen.

“
Thank God she didn’t use
a Sharpie,” I smiled through my reply. But my nerves were twisted
in shambles. I didn’t like the fact that Cindy was in the same
airport as Max and me. All I could think about was getting caught
and ending up being the subject of her next tweet on
Twitter.

“
Ready?” Max asked. His
eyes narrowed and his eyebrows curved, his facial expression
speaking the words he didn’t say.

“
Yeah, I just don’t like
that Cindy is here too. The faster we get out of here, the better
I’ll feel,” I said as I peered around, looking for any sign that
Cindy might have decided to come back and pick up on Max
again.

“
Don’t worry about it, we
are almost out of here,” he smiled as he grabbed my hand and we
walked toward the other end of the terminal.

As we approached the double sliding
doors with two enormous forest-green wreaths, I noticed an old man
waving at us. He was a gruff-looking guy with gray hair and
earthen-brown skin. His face was worn with deep, carved lines that
told their own stories of a hardened life. His hazel eyes, filtered
with a hue of yellow, spoke volumes of his life in the service of
others.

“
Hi-ya’, Mist’a
Goldstein.
They told me to come on up here
and tell y’all that they are ready for you and yours.” His head
bobbled toward me. His teeth, jagged and unclean, danced with black
spaces as he spoke.

“
Why thank you, Mr.
Albright,” Max said as he shook the man’s hand. Not letting go, he
pointed and introduced me. “I would like you to meet my girlfriend,
Wilson.”

“
Hi-ya, Miss Wilson. Sure
is my pleasure.” He lowered his head toward me.

“
Wilson, this is Mr.
Albright. He is the most amazing mechanic. He can fix just about
anything. Isn’t that right, Mr. Albright?” Max’s eyes danced. He
looked at Mr. Albright with a child-like awe that swelled deep
within his soul. I grabbed the man’s dry, cracked, grimy
hand.

Mr. Albright turned a shade darker.
With a jack-o-lantern smile, he answered, “Aw, you’re too kind
Mist’a Goldstein. Let’s just hope I keep your bird in the air,
that’s ‘bout all I have to say abou’ that,” he chuckled as our
hands continued to bounce between us.

“
It is nice to meet you,
Mr. Albright,” I said.

“
Now, Miss Wilson, you can
call me Bernie.”

“
Nice to meet you…Bernie,”
I repeated.

“
Now you come on after
me,” he said as he limped and hobbled back to a door with a sign on
it that read
Authorized Personnel
Only
.

“
Here’s the place. Miss
Wilson, you have a nice flight and merry holidays.” Bernie held my
hand and nodded at Max. “Mist’a Goldstein.”