Ульяна Солнечная – Its Never Too Late - As Long As Youre Alive (страница 14)
She turned.
A young woman in an airline uniform was smiling at her.
“First time flying?”
“First time this far,” Kate admitted honestly. “I’m going to Paris.”
“Oh, wonderful! Let me walk you to the counter. Don’t worry, you’ll be just fine.”
The woman helped her check her bag, explained where to go through security, and showed her how to read the departure board.
Kate felt like a child being taken by the hand to her first day of school.
But along with the embarrassment came gratitude.
People were kind.
Apparently, people had always been kind.
At security, she had to take off her shoes, pull all her liquids out of her bag, remove her belt.
Kate blushed while fumbling through her things, but the security officer — a young man with a mustache — said kindly,
“Don’t worry, ma’am. Everybody goes through it. Have a good flight.”
She made it to the departure area and suddenly realized she was hungry.
Coffee.
A sandwich.
Something.
She had dollars in her wallet, but no idea how much anything cost or how one was even supposed to order in an airport café.
So she sat down by her gate and pulled out the sandwich she had packed the night before — homemade, with cheese and ham.
She ate slowly, watching people hurry by.
Someone reading a book.
Someone asleep with their head tipped back.
Someone staring into a phone.
An older couple sat down nearby.
The man was saying something softly to his wife, and she nodded, holding his hand.
A sharp ache rose in Kate’s chest.
She wanted Tom beside her.
Wanted him to hold her hand.
Wanted him to say, Don’t be scared, Katie. I’m here.
But Tom was not there.
And this was a journey she would have to make alone.
“Flight 127 to Dallas is now boarding,” the speaker announced.
Kate stood, adjusted her bag, and took hold of her boarding pass.
Her heart was pounding.
But her feet moved.
The plane was smaller than she had expected.
She found her seat — by the window, just as Barbara had insisted (“You have to see the clouds. That’s non-negotiable.”)
A young man in headphones sat beside her, nodded politely, and immediately disappeared into his phone.
The takeoff was softer than she expected.
Kate gripped the armrests when the wheels left the ground and squeezed her eyes shut.
And when she opened them, there was sky.
Clear.
Blue.
Endless.
And below it — clouds.
White and billowing like spun sugar.
She stared and could not look away.
“First time?” the man beside her asked, pulling off one earbud.
Kate nodded.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” he said, smiling. “I fly every month and I still can’t get over it. The clouds are always different.”
They started talking.
His name was Mark.
He worked for a Texas oil company and was flying out on business.
He told her about his job, about his wife who was expecting a baby, about fishing trips with his friends.
Kate listened, and then found herself talking too.
About Tom.
About her daughter.
About the grandchildren.
About Barbara and her cats.
And about Paris.
About a dream that had waited her whole life.
“You’re something else,” Mark said when the flight attendant came by with drinks. “My mom’s scared of everything. She’s always saying, too late, too late. But you? You’re proof it’s not too late. I’m going to tell her about you.”
Kate blushed, but it pleased her.
In Dallas, she had a three-hour layover.
She found her gate, sat down, and suddenly realized how tired she was.