Waiting

The next morning had us gathering our luggage to take to the airport. When I woke up, I checked my messages. There was nothing from Mark. I didn’t know what I had expected to find, but he had not made any effort to contact me again. The conversation from the night before still weighed on me. Before I could think further on it, Gretal knocked on the door to announce the arrival of the taxi. I shot a message off to Mark telling him that I loved him.

I was a nervous wreck. This would be my first trip to Europe. I checked for my passport a dozen times before we got in the cab and a dozen more on the way to the airport. We had an extra piece of luggage with the books in it. Packed, it proved heavier than I had expected.

By eight o’clock we were through customs and sitting on the large plane. I fidgeted as we waited. Gretal’s hand on my arm stilled me. I looked over at her sweet smile.