Chapter Thirty-Four
Jackson
The flight was as easy one to make, at a time of day that shouldn’t have been difficult to get to with plenty of time to spare. Which meant, of course, that we were scrambling around at the last second trying to get Stiles’ cat food and toys assembled as C.J. ran around the apartment looking for her “lucky” t-shirt - the one thing she hadn’t packed, and just could not leave without. A quick shouting match and a search of the washer and dryer located it, freshly cleaned, at the back of the dryer drum.
I counted to one hundred a couple of times as she found three or four more last second items she couldn’t live without, then we raced to the Jeep. Par for the course, our route contained the only patch of traffic (an accident), and when we reached the car rental return, we were behind a dozen other customers. Finally, I suggested to C.J. that she valet our luggage and head toward security, and I would join her in line as soon as I was done.
The cars slowly, but surely moved through the line, and I turned in my keys and made a run for security with my pre-printed boarding pass in hand. Up at the front, I could see a worried C.J. looking around as she approached the x-ray machines, and I texted her to let her know I’d made it into the line and could see her. I watched as she glanced down, then scanned the crowd one more time before stepping through security. A minute later, I got her reply, and told her I’d be at the gate as soon as I could.
As though we’d passed some test set before us by the TSA gods, it was then that they decided to open a few more lanes. The clock above the light boards that announced the arrivals and departures said I still had fifteen minutes until we boarded, so I stepped into the newsstand and bought C.J. a fantasy novel by an author I’d seen at her place, and some candy and chocolate.
I arrived at the gate with minutes to spare, and a concerned girlfriend who’s face quickly went from worried to irritated when she saw the small plastic bag in my hand. She looked at her phone and then glared back at me, and I handed her the bag as a token of peace before she could say anything that might ruin the flight for us both.
“Oh, she’s my favorite author right now. Did you have to run because you stopped for it?”
“Well, I didn’t run, but yes, it was a little time squeeze getting here. I figured you could use something nice for the flight, and you wouldn’t have stopped if you were trying to make sure we got on the dang plane.”
She hugged me and kissed me on the cheek, and I gave a wry smile to the gate agent standing behind us. She’d booked us first class tickets, and I reminded myself to get a total from her and make sure I paid her back before our return flight.
Drinks were served and I got a double scotch, while C.J. settled for soda. She glanced at me, but said nothing as I finished off the small tumbler and asked for another. About my third or fourth drink, she broke in when the flight attendant asked if I was ready for another, and told her that I was good for a bit.
“My God, C.J. I’m a grown-ass man. I can order a drink if I want.” I muttered angrily.
“You sure can, Lover,” she replied drily, “but since we both know I can’t carry your two-hundred-fifty-pound ass off this plane, maybe you can slow it down and save some drinks for when we’re in the air.” I opened my mouth to reply, but the look on her face shut me down quick.
She leaned over and kissed me on the neck, and rubbed my thigh. “If you are so nervous you’re trying to arrive passed out drunk, how am I supposed to feel?” she whispered in my ear, and kept rubbing my thigh.
I felt like shit. She was right, but I wasn’t drinking because of my family. I could handle them no problem. “I’ve flown twice in my life, and one of those times was to see you. The alcohol worked well that time. I thought I’d try it again.”
The gentle rubbing on my thigh became a firm squeeze. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think about that. What can I do to help?”
With her hand on my leg, I could think of a few things that would be pleasantly distracting, but I tried to keep it clean at least until we were in the air and they couldn’t throw us off the plane. “What you’re doing helps. I like the distraction.”
“You like that I’m inches away from your zipper,” she countered.
“No kidding. I always like when you’re close to my man-bits.”
She snorted and shook her head, then glanced around. “I should’ve stopped you one drink earlier, it seems,” she snickered as a man across the aisle looked at us.
I leaned forward in my seat and turned my head to stare him down until he looked away. “Nah, I’m good. The drinks they serve are ridiculous. Considering how many it takes to make you drunk, they must make bank on food service.” I glanced up at the friendly attendant who kept stopping at our seat, who smiled and shrugged. She set a tiny plastic bottle of water on the tray in front of me, and a Diet Coke in front of C.J. She kept looking at us, and I started to worry that C.J. was about to have an issue with the flirtatious blonde. She walked away and came back once more with cookies and packages with Harry and David meats, cheeses, and crackers. Carina watched her with a thoughtful look on her face, and my palms got sweaty.
“I’m sorry I keep bugging you guys,” she finally said, “But are you C.J. Rivers, the model?” I exhaled a huge sigh of relief, and got a sharp knuckle in the side from my girlfriend in response.
“Yes, I’m Carina Rivers.”
I smiled up at the attendant, who was grinning ear-to-ear and glowing.
“Oh, my God,” she gushed, “My husband is a huge H1Z1 player, and he streams, just like you do.” Her eyes got huge and she dropped her voice to a whisper. “He is going to flip his shit when he hears that I got to serve you and your friend!” Her voice got even lower, so even I could barely hear her, and she added, “Is he, like, with you, with you?”
C.J. laughed and told her that yes, I was her boyfriend.
The attendant squeaked and shook my hand. “Oh, you two look so good together! Are you a model too?” I blushed a hot, furious red and shook my head, frowning. She winked at C.J. and walked away to help a complaining passenger, and I leaned into C.J.
“Does that happen to you a lot?”
She giggled and shook her head. “It happens, but not all the time. The longer I go without a magazine cover, the less people remember who I am.”
I wanted to ask her if it made her unhappy, but she smiled at me and threaded her fingers through mine.
“This is what I want. I want to be known by people like us, and left alone by the ones who don’t get it. I’d rather be your girlfriend than be stopped for pictures and autographs by teenaged boys who are going to go home and tell their friends I slept with them.”
I agreed to that wholeheartedly, and saluted her with my baby bottle of water before pouring it down the hatch.
The rest of the flight passed in a lovely amber haze, as C.J. lifted the ban on scotch and regulated my use to keep me calm and relaxed, but still self-ambulatory. The latter was the most important part, since I drank so much I spent close to half an hour in the lavatory over the course of the flight.
As we bumped and shimmied to a stop on the runway in Austin, I texted Danny to tell him we were back and that I’d be staying in town so I could ambush Tuck the next day. He agreed, and replied that he’d slip into town with Rachel and take us to brunch first, so he could fill me in on the family, and C.J. could ease into meeting the family, instead of being accosted by everyone at once. I knew it was an apology for the things he’d said about her on the phone, and I appreciate the effort. When I relayed the information to C.J., she seemed grateful too. Her sigh of relief made me laugh out loud, the sound ringing out in the confines of the first-class cabin.
I couldn’t believe how happy I was to be back. It was different than I thought I would feel. Not relief at being home, just happy to be bringing C.J. here to see my family. I could imagine a Christmas trip would feel the same way. It would be nice to box up my computers myself, too. I didn’t trust anyone but C.J or myself to understand their value and do it correctly. It felt right to be here, and to have her by my side. Fast or not, everything I did with C.J. was right. We were young, but we were old enough to know the difference between living and succeeding. Together, I believed we really could take on the world, or at least face the judgment of the Hargrave clan.