Roars of anger erupted throughout the airport for the sixth time in the past hour. Flights were being delayed one after another because of a huge blizzard that hit the east coast this morning. I’d be spending my Christmas here.
I left Mom a voicemail letting her know what was going on and then went to find coffee. I figured I would need some fuel to keep me going so I could send out some work emails while I was stranded. I found a Starbucks and rolled my bag behind me into the line. I rubbed my tired eyes as the line inched forward.
I stared at the menu trying to figure out what I wanted, when I felt someone tap me on my shoulder. I turned to see a man with dark eyes and a sleepy smile. “Can I help you?” I asked.
He pointed toward the counter. “It’s your turn.”
“Huh?”
He chuckled lightly. “To order coffee. You’re in line to order.”
“Oh my god.” I slapped my forehead. “I swear, I’m sleepwalking. I was just distracted I guess.” I turned and moved to the counter. “Peppermint Mocha Grande with an extra shot of espresso. No, make it two shots.”
The girl behind the counter rang me up, and I handed her my card. She grabbed a cup and a Sharpie. “Name?”
“Nora Baker.”
She nodded, slid the cup to the person to her left, and mumbled, “Next.”
I went down to the end of the counter and waited. I checked my phone, but there were no calls or texts from Mom. She probably thought I was lying and trying to bail on coming home. I slid my phone into my back jean pocket when my name was called. I took the coffee and sat down at the only vacant table.
I opened my bag and pulled my laptop out. I set it on the table and looked to my right where I saw the guy that was behind me in line. He was sipping his coffee, just standing there. He looked so tired, and I felt bad that I took the last table. When he saw me looking at him, I smiled and waved him over.
He walked over and sat down across from me. “Are you sure you don’t mind? I don’t want to be a bother.”
“I could have missed my chance at coffee if it weren’t for you. It’s the least I could do.”
“Well, thank you.”
I smiled and opened my laptop. Shit. It was dead, and all the nearby outlets were taken. I closed it and huffed.
“The news says this blizzard is worse than the one that hit in 1993.”
“Just my luck.”
He tilted his head to the side a little. “What do you mean?”
I took a sip of my coffee and set it back down on the table, clasping both hands around its warmth. I tapped my index finger on the cup and shrugged. “Christmas has its way of rearing its ugly head every year. Christmas doesn’t agree with me. Ever.”
He sat up straight and laughed. “Oh, come on, Nora. Christmas is the best time of year.”
“That’s what they want you to believe. How do you know my name?”
He pointed to my cup. “It’s right there.”
I looked at his cup and saw “Sean” written on it. I blushed. “Oh. Right.”
His smile widened. “So, where are you headed?”
“Maine.”
He took off his jacket and laid it on the back of his chair. “What’s in Maine?”
I hesitated, unsure if I should unveil such deep things to a complete stranger. But Sean seemed nice, and it wasn’t like I’d ever see him again after this snowed-in fiasco, so if he labeled me a crazy lady it wouldn’t matter. It’d be good to have someone to vent to.
“My father is dying of liver cancer. I haven’t seen or spoken to him in four years.”
His forehead creased, and his smile fell. “Oh. I’m so sorry.”
“He’s a selfish man, more concerned with his possessions than his own daughter, but I guess when you’re on your deathbed you feel the need to make amends. Everyone deserves the chance to make things right.” I took a deep breath and let it out. I sat up in my chair and took a drink. “What about you, Sean? Where are you headed?”
His eyes fell to his cup of coffee before meeting mine again. “To meet my son.”
I smiled. “A new father? Congratulations! Did this storm cause you to miss his birth?”
He shook his head, and his frown deepened. “No, my pride and selfishness caused me to miss his birth eight years ago.”
“Damn. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…” I stopped for lack of anything better to say.
He laughed sadly and waved his hand. “Don’t be. You didn’t know.” He took a drink and smiled a little. “Looks like we’re both trying to make amends this Christmas.”
“It appears we are.”
“Can I ask you something, and if you’re not comfortable answering, just tell me.”
“Sure.”
“If your father wasn’t dying and he asked to see you, would you have gone?”
I chewed on the inside of my cheek as I thought. “Honestly, I don’t know. Maybe. I’ve wanted my whole life to be the daughter my parents tried to raise, but I never could live up to their expectations. I’m the daughter with the gypsy-soul. I’d like to think that I would, because regardless of their lack of compassion and love for money, I still love them and know they love me too.”
“I hope my son feels that way.” He lifted his cup like he might take a drink but never did. He set it back down and looked at me. “I was only seventeen when I found out his mother was pregnant. I had a football scholarship on the line and big plans. I couldn’t see how a kid could mix into my future, so I gave up all rights. I told his mother that I wanted nothing to do with him.”
“Why do you want to make things right now?”
“His mother died in a car crash four days ago, and I’m all he has left. He reached out to me, and I saw it as my chance to make things right.”
I tucked my curls behind my ears. “Death is kind of a beautiful thing. It makes us view life in a new perspective, shows us what is really important, and opens our hearts to forgiveness. Even if it’s forgiving ourselves.”
“Yeah, I guess so.” He finished off his coffee and tore his napkin in half. “Do you have a pen?”
“I do.” I dug in the side of my bag until I found one. I handed it to him. “Here.”
He wrote something down and slid it toward me. “Keep me updated on how your visit goes.”
I stared at his number and smiled. I grabbed the other half of the napkin and wrote my number down. I slid it across to him with a smile. “And you let me know how meeting your son goes.”
He folded it and placed it in his pocket. “It was really nice to meet you, Nora.”
“You too, Sean.”
“Maybe our paths will cross again.”
I stood and smiled. “That would be nice.”
He kissed my cheek. “Merry Christmas.”
“Yeah. Merry Christmas to you, too.”