As I waited in yet more lines to go through the metal detectors and send my carry-on through the conveyor belt, I wondered what my apartment might be like.
Max had told me when I called him back that he had arranged for a place for me to stay until I got settled. He told me it wasn’t the best place he’d seen but it was the best he could get his hands on with one week’s notice. Knowing him, it was probably twenty times nicer than my apartment in New York.
It hadn’t been easy to walk out of the tiny apartment for the last time yesterday afternoon. It was empty since the movers had taken all my stuff out the morning before to drive it across country. If all went according to plan, it would arrive tomorrow morning or afternoon, meaning I only had to spend one night on a mattress on the floor. I was more than okay with that.
But saying goodbye to the place that had been mine and Piper’s home for so long hit me hard. I shed a couple of tears before closing and locking the front door for the last time and leaving behind a huge part of our lives.
I had to remind myself on the way to the airport that this was what I wanted and needed.
Change.
A new life, new city, new job.
Just like Piper, it was time for me to step into the next stage of my life. Who knew what could happen now?
I passed through security without any problems and found my gate on the other side, where I waited with a book. Strangers milling around all over the place distracted me and I ended up doing more people-watching than reading.
A mother with a young son, probably no more than six, stood in line in one of the convenience stores buying snacks for the flight while the boy touched everything and anything in sight. She grabbed his wrist and asked him to stop, but he kept trying to touch the candy bars under the register until his mother gave up and bought him a whole bunch more.
He’d either be high on sugar for the flight or in a food coma. Time would tell.
A man in a baseball cap sat two rows down from me frantically typing away on his laptop. Every now and then, he’d glance up, look around, take a deep breath, and keep writing. I wondered if he had deadlines he was sticking to or if he wanted to get as much done as possible before boarding and he had to pay for internet connection.
Beside me, a frail old couple sat shoulder to shoulder working on their own crossword puzzles. Occasionally, they’d talk back and forth and help each other solve their puzzles by offering suggestions, but for the most part, they were content to sit quietly beside each other and wait for their flight.
I wondered what awaited all these strangers in Silicon Valley.
Family? New opportunities? Vacation? Business?
A flight attendant announced that boarding for my flight had begun. Passengers with accessibility needs began boarding first, and while I waited for my section to be called—first class, of course, because Max refused to buy me a seat in coach—I sent him a quick text letting him know I was about to board.
First class was called and I swept up out of my chair and slung my carry-on over my shoulder. I fell into line behind a few other passengers, inched toward the front of the line, and flashed my boarding pass one last time before I made my way down the boarding ramp to the plane.
I was shown to my seat and was grateful to find it beside a window. I had my own little pod and wouldn’t have to step over someone’s legs to get to the bathroom should I need to use it in the air. With any luck, I wouldn’t have to. I hated using the bathrooms on airplanes. They freaked me out. The loud rush of the toilet flushing, the itty-bitty space, the smell of the soap, it was all unpleasant. I’d wait to use the washroom during my two-hour layover in Denver.
Also not ideal but necessary.
I’d get out, stretch my legs, grab some snacks for the second of my flights, and re-board.
The flight took off and I gazed out the window and watched New York grow smaller and smaller beneath me. I whispered a quiet farewell with a hand pressed to the window, thanked the city for everything it had given me, and promised to return one day as a visitor.
New York vanished as we passed through fluffy white clouds and popped up above them. Bright blue skies stretched on for eternity over a sea of clouds and I leaned back in my seat with a content sigh, feeling like I was right where I was supposed to be for the first time in months.
Possibly longer.
I committed myself to starting this journey out on the right foot. I enjoyed the in-flight omelette and two cups of coffee. I knew I was testing my luck with my strategy to avoid the bathrooms but I figured I might as well enjoy flying first class while I could. The food was better than expected and the coffee was better than what I drank at home.
I could get used to this life of luxury.
Denver International Airport was a surprisingly pleasant place to spend my layover. I found my next gate quickly, freshened up in the bathroom, and sat down in a lounge to have a glass of chilled white wine and read my book.
Yet again, I watched strangers milling about, going to wherever it was they were going to instead of reading.
My second flight was less comfortable than the first, but I still made the most of it. By the time I landed in San Jose, I was ready to get to my new apartment and have a shower. There was something about being on an airplane that clung to your skin. I didn’t like it. I felt like I’d had a sweaty sleep or was standing out by the ocean and covered in saltwater spray.
After collecting my luggage at baggage claim, I found my way through the airport to find Max, who I assumed would be picking me up. When I found a stranger in a black suit with a whiteboard and my name written on it, I frowned.
“Miss Clarke?” the driver asked. He was a thin man with nicely combed white hair. He wore a dark blue suit and had a friendly smile that stretched his salt and pepper beard.
“That’s me,” I said.
“Mr. Fisher sent me to drive you to your new apartment,” the driver said. “My name is Jonathan. I’ll also be driving you into the office for the next couple of weeks or for as long as you need me.”
Jonathan led me outside to where a shiny black Range Rover was parked at the curb. We loaded my bags into the trunk and I got in the passenger seat. A bottle of water was tucked in the door as well as a variety of snacks like granola bars, bags of candied peanuts, caramel corn, and chips.
“Help yourself,” Jonathan said as we pulled away from the curb. “It’s about a twenty-minute drive from here to your apartment. Mr. Fisher wanted to make sure your new residence was close to the office. In fact, you can see the headquarters building from your living-room window.”
My stomach fluttered with a burst of sudden nerves. “Is that so?”
Jonathan nodded matter-of-factly. “Indeed, it is. I’ve stocked your fridge so you don’t have to worry about going to the grocer and you can enjoy your first evening in the city. I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning at eight o’clock on the dot to bring you into the office. Would you like anything in particular? I can stop and pick up coffees on the way, or anything you prefer. I am entirely at your disposal.”
“I don’t…” I trailed off. Was this for real? “I’m sorry, I’m a little overwhelmed at the moment.”
“Not to worry, not to worry. I left my cell phone number on a notepad on the kitchen counter. Call me or text me if you decide you need anything. If I don’t hear from you, I’ll arrive at eight o’clock as scheduled.”