Flight Delay: Intro

Stranded

“Not yet, Mom?”

She shook her head as she smiled down at her young son. “Not yet, Sammy.”

“I’m bored.”

“I know you are, sweetie. So am I.” Though being an adult, she had to remain civil. A few short months of being seven years old, Sammy had the excuse of being a child. He was well behaved in most circumstances. Even his polite upbringing was bound to fray at these delays – as was his mother’s.

They had lost their seats to other stranded passengers the first time Sammy had to use the bathroom. One saving grace was they had managed to keep possession of their luggage cart. It was much easier than hefting around their bags from place to place.

“Where would you like to park now?” Spring asked as she shoved the small cart forward.

Sammy shrugged.

“C’mon, kid,” she chided him gently. “We still have each other, right?” All they’d ever had was each other.

Miraculously a few moments later, she managed to find a fairly quiet corner. She parked the cart and motioned for the boy to climb aboard. Their meager luggage made a lumpy mattress, but at least he could rest.

“Mom,” Sammy stated very seriously, “next Christmas, let’s stay home, so when there’s a blizzard we’re at home and not in some airport.”

“You got it, big guy.” Spring mused at how she had sought to escape the cold, lonely Midwest winter for a week in sunny Orlando. It had seemed like a wonderful idea at the time. Now instead of being home in their little house awaiting the new year, they were stuck at O’Hare waiting for their 45-minute flight home.

Squirming and punching their bags into a more comfortable configuration, the boy rolled to his side and closed his eyes.

There was no physical resemblance between mother and child. Sammy was his father’s miniature in nearly every way. The beautiful deep blue eyes that seemed to see too much. The nose a little too large for his face, keeping him from being too pretty. The mop of unruly, dark curls – which she hadn’t realized at the time the man possessed since he kept his hair short and spiky. Sammy’s slender build was his father’s as well. But most of all, Sammy sang like an angel with a true pitch and he loved all music.

Okay, so it had been a stupid, starry-eyed thing to do – having a fling with a man she had know less than two days. But they’d had an immediate connection, vulnerability and a shared feeling of isolation. And they had used condoms. It was six weeks later when Spring realized she was pregnant with a stranger’s child. She regretted her uncharacteristic impulsiveness, but she never regretted having Sammy.

“Mom?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you think he ever wonders about me?”

She knew what he was asking. Not knowing his father and having no other family was especially poignant during the holidays. “Sammy, we parted ways before I knew I was having you. He doesn’t know about you.”

“You couldn’t tell him?”

In truth, it had never occurred to her. He was so far out of her reality; she didn’t believe she could ever have gotten near him again. They lived in two different worlds. “I didn’t know how.” And his people would have made sure of it. For all she knew, he wouldn’t even remember the nights they shared.

“He was nice, right?”

“Very nice,” she assured him, remembering the man/boy she would never forget. “He was sweet and gentle and was lonely with all those people around him.”

“He would want to know me,” Sammy said with great certainty.

“Maybe…”

With a soft sigh, Sammy gave up the fight to sleep out of sheer boredom.

Spring lowered herself to the floor beside the cart to watch him sleep. That was supposedly another one of his father’s traits. It was rumored the man could sleep anywhere, anytime.

Would he care that he had fathered this loving, bright child?

Fuck!

JC looked to discover his flight was delayed. He had been afraid of that real possibility when he had heard that the weather all over the Midwest was causing problems. Spending Christmas in Chicago with his parents was one thing – Spending New Year’s Eve there was unthinkable. He wanted to be somewhere warm, somewhere happenin’ for him. Vegas or LA – Not O’Hare Airport. He had to get out!

Glancing at the ticket counters, he saw other stranded travelers, desperate to get a flight. The Chasez name wasn’t bound to impress a single one of them. They were all in the same sorry state no matter who they were.

All he could do was wait. But wait where? All available seating was taken and jealously guarded. People had taken to creating their own little campground on whatever floor space was available. It looked as if some of them had made themselves quite comfortable, stretching out for a snooze. He scanned the area for a likely place to stake his claim. Maybe he could spot a familiar space or, barring that, a friendly one. One group appeared to be having a good time, a bunch of rowdy frat boys maybe… Uhh…no. A cluster of old ladies… Naugh, they would pinch his cheeks and try to fix him up with their granddaughters. Of course, there were plenty of family units… He’d feel like a fifth wheel.

It was then he spotted a dark-haired woman sitting on the floor, guarding some precious cargo – a child asleep atop their luggage. Even from this distance he could tell she was weary. Maybe a cup of coffee, a sandwich and someone to talk to would make the wait more tolerable for both of them.