[title subtitle=”WORDS Liesel Schmidt
IMAGE hxdyl/Shutterstock”][/title]
There are ghosts that haunt you, walking the late hours of the night to remind you of lost things. And there are ghosts who walk out of the mist to lead you away from your own darkness, becoming flesh and bone to hold you and make your broken heart whole.
“Please secure your tray table and return your seat to its upright position, sir.” Grace said the words and could only wonder if she sounded as tired as she felt. She’d been on three short back-to-back flights already, and she still had one more to go until she could finally put her feet up and relax for a couple of days. As much as she loved her job, loved the travel, and the opportunity to meet interesting people, it got to her sometimes. Mostly it was the long hours, but sometimes it was feeling as though she was rootless. She lived out of a suitcase, and her apartment was like a landing pad that she only visited.
Grace watched as the man she had just addressed folded his tray table up and latched it and then moved to reposition his seat. She hadn’t gotten a good look at his face; but he was well-built, trim and muscled, and well-dressed in chinos and a polo shirt. His hair was trimmed short and the color of gunmetal. Just as she began to move on, he looked up at her and caught her eye.
“Grace?” He said her name in almost a whisper, as though he had found something unexpected. “Grace Harrison?”
Grace studied his face: the brown eyes, the aquiline nose, the strong jaw, and a dimple that was just barely noticeable when he smiled. He was fifteen years older than the last time she had seen him, but it was still him.
“Jack Walker,” Grace said, feeling a smile creep over her face and into her voice. “It’s been a long time.”
His smile matched hers. There was that dimple. “It has,” he agreed, tilting his head in contemplation. “What, about fifteen years or so now?”
Grace nodded, still feeling mesmerized by his face. It was a face she had known well, so many years ago. She’d known all its lines, all of its expressions. And then it had been gone.
“Grace, it’s time to do the safety instructions, hon.”
She turned toward the voice that was speaking behind her, catching the arched eyebrow and inquisitive look that was so plain on Em’s face. At five feet, eleven inches, Emily Capshaw towered over Grace, her blonde hair and slim build making her a striking sight to behold—especially in her flight attendant’s uniform. And she had an uncanny ability to say a thousand words with that eyebrow.
“Yes. Sorry,” Grace stammered. She turned her gaze back to Jack, giving him an apologetic smile. “You’re all set here, so I’d better go. But we can talk more on the flight. I’m glad to see you, Jack.”
I’m glad to see you, Jack. The words played over in her head as she made her way to the front of the cabin, walking past passengers who all seemed a blur. Em handed her the demonstration seat belt and then removed the intercom from the cradle on the wall. As Em spoke, Grace moved through the motions of the demo, holding up the seat belt on cue, indicating the emergency exits, giving instruction on how to use the oxygen masks. All the while, she barely heard any of it. I’m glad to see you, Jack.
It had been the better part of two decades—years that had been a lifetime. The girl Jack had known back then had gone on to fall in love and been through the pain of loss, experiencing heartache that seemed to plunge her into a darkness that she couldn’t escape. And the friend Jack had been all those years ago had been gone in almost an instant, slipping away without a word and disappearing from her life like an apparition gone with the light.
******************
“Spill, Grace,” Em said, once they were strapped into their jump seats.
Grace looked at her innocently. “What?”
Again, the eyebrow made an appearance. Clearly, Em wasn’t having it. “Mister 12C? I know there’s a story there, and don’t try to tell me otherwise.”
Grace dropped her gaze to her hands, folded tightly and resting in her lap, wondering where to start. “His name is Jack,” she said at last, letting out the breath she had been holding.
“I gathered that much, sweetie,” Em replied. “And?”
“And we knew each other. A long time ago,” Grace said. “We were friends, actually. Good friends. We talked about everything—it was crazy how much we could always talk. Didn’t matter what it was, we just talked.”
“So, what happened?” Em shifted in her seat and slid her feet out of her heels, sighing as she did. Then she reached into her blazer pocket to retrieve the small compact mirror she kept there. She popped it open and inspected her lipstick to make sure it hadn’t migrated to her teeth.
“I don’t really know. One day I just stopped seeing him around, and then years went by.” Even as she said the words, it sounded so simple. How had they lost touch so completely?
She couldn’t remember details now, all these years later. Maybe Jack would know. She shook her head and looked back at Em to catch the other woman studying her.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Grace asked, feeling her face flush. At thirty-seven, she still had an uncanny ability to blush at the worst times.
“Why do you think? There’s a man sitting on this airplane who obviously means something to you,” Em paused thoughtfully before continuing. “Maybe you didn’t know it until now, but he does. So, what are you going to do about it?”
“What am I supposed to do about it, Em? He could be married, for all I know,” Grace said, closing her eyes and slumping in her seat. She could almost hear Em’s eyebrow arch.
“I saw no wedding ring. Did you? And I also didn’t see a tan line,” Em’s voice said, breaking through Grace’s self-imposed darkness.
Grace opened her eyes to look at her friend. “That still doesn’t mean much. He could be involved. And it’s been fifteen years, Em. A lot has happened for me, and I’m sure alot’s happened for him. We might not even have anything in common anymore.”
Em shook her head sadly. “Grace, a lot has happened to you, not just for you. I know that, and I understand it. And I know why you haven’t been in a relationship for almost a whole decade. It’s understandable that you don’t feel like you can trust people, sweetie. But you’ve got to learn how,” she said softly. “And there’s a handsome man out there who seems like a really good place to start.”
*******************
The phone chimed a text coming through.
Grace had been home for an hour, happy that her shift was over and that she had a little time to herself. But there was something else, too. There was Jack.
After the flight had been in the air and she’d made her rounds with the beverage cart, they began talking. And just like she’d remembered, the conversation had been easy. He’d moved to Atlanta years before, starting over in a new city to build his business, and had found success in his new home. He’d also lost his wife in a car accident.
As the flight landed and all the passengers deplaned, Grace realized that Em had been right. Jack had meant more to her than she’d realized. Gathering his carryon from the overhead bin, he’d caught her eye and smiled, walking toward the front of the cabin and the door. As he’d approached her, he’d kept his gaze steady on her and then had reached out to take her hand. “I’ve missed you, Grace,” he’d said.
She’d smiled back, feeling somehow like the twenty-two-year-old she’d been when he’d known her. “I’ve missed you, too, Jack.”
The phone alerted her to a second text. She crossed the living room of her apartment to retrieve her phone from her purse.
She smiled when she saw who it was from, feeling a warm rush of excitement flood over her.
I’m glad you missed me, read the text.
I’m glad you missed me, too, Jack.
