Leave it to Fate

      Victoria Hunter was no stranger to flying. Her job demanded red-eye flights in much smaller, less-reliable planes several times a month. She had just gotten off a plane that had brought her from Africa where she had been working for the last three weeks. Now, it was two-thirty in the morning and she was in Seattle, waiting for the call to board. She looked around her. A mom with two kids, both fast asleep in the chairs on either side of her, looked like she was struggling to stay awake. A few men wearing suits were checking their phones, heads down and oblivious to everything around them. A group of five friends were talking loudly about their trip and their laughter and youthfulness made her smile.

           “Excuse me, is anyone sitting here?” a voice asked, startling her.

           “No, let me just move my bag,” she replied. She moved her bag and the stranger sat down beside her.

           “Gotta love delays, huh?” he commented.

           “I guess it’s because of the storm,” she replied.

           “I can tell you’re a long way from home. Alabama?” he asked.

           “That’s right. I guess no matter how far I travel I just can’t lose the accent,” she joked with a laugh. “I hear it in your voice too.”

He nodded. “Alabama is where I was born and raised but I live in Texas now. I’m headed back to Alabama.”

           “I’m actually headed home as well. Well, not home, because home is wherever my job takes me. I do a lot of traveling.”

           “I would have never guessed that, based on how light you pack,” he said.

           “I don’t like to be weighed down with unnecessary baggage,” she replied.

Just then the announcement came to board the plane and people began to stir. He collected his two pieces of luggage and stood. “It was nice talking to you. I’m Max. Max Dulaney. I hope you have a good trip home.”

She picked up her bag. “I’m Victoria Hunter, and I hope your trip goes well.”

           Less than two hours into the flight, an announcement was made that the pilot had to make an emergency landing. They landed at a small airport in southern Oregon and everyone was ushered off the plane. People were asking how long they had to wait for the plane to be fixed and nobody knew the answer. Victoria went to the ticket counter to see if any other flights were available.

           “I’m sorry, ma’am, there’s nothing going to Alabama,” the employee told her apologetically.

           “What about nearby states? Texas, Louisiana, anything?” Victoria asked.

After a brief search, the woman shook her head. “I’m sorry. The closest would be Phoenix.”

           “Thank you anyway,” she told her. She turned to leave and nearly ran into Max.

           “You might as well save yourself the wait in line. They don’t have anything heading south.”

           Max looked disappointed. “I really need to get to Cotter by Sunday.”

Surprised, she said, “I’m going to Cotter. What a small world. I was going to rent a car. Why don’t we ride together? We can take turns driving and we’ll make it there by Saturday night.”

           “Are you sure? You don’t even know me.”

           “It’s the only way I see us making it there by Sunday and I’m not much of a driver, honestly. If you’d rather wait for the plane to be fixed or shell out money for a bus ticket, go ahead. We’re going the same way and I don’t think I have anything to worry about, do I?” she asked.

Max fixed her with a serious, level look. “No ma’am.”

           “Okay then, let’s find a rental car and get on the road.”

           By the time the sun rose they were crossing the state line into Idaho.

Not one to enjoy silence for long, she started asking him questions and quickly found out that he had two brothers, Sean and Thomas. He had been married, and divorced, once. He took all her questions in stride.

           “Okay, my turn,” he finally said. “You said home is where your job takes you. What is your job?”

           “I’m a journalist. I go all over the world and cover topics from hunger to war.”

           “Sometimes that must be tough. You don’t have a home, a place to go, when you aren’t traveling?” he asked.

She shrugged. “Sometimes I stay with my parents or my friends. I don’t own a home. I’m not home enough to enjoy it.”

           “So no husband or family either, I’m guessing?” he asked.

           “No. I knew when I started this career that it wasn’t feasible to try to sustain any sort of relationship. It wouldn’t have even been fair. I’ve always been driven to have a career instead of a family.”

           “You might change your mind when you’re older,” he pointed out.

           “There’s a lot that people regret when they’re older. I don’t think I’ll regret all the work I’ve done. Why did you get a divorce?” she asked.

He hesitated. “I did some really stupid things when I was younger. The divorce was just a casualty of my stupidity. I don’t blame my ex for leaving. I think just about everyone left me.”

           They drove until they were both too exhausted to continue safely. Max pulled off I-70 and found a hotel just west of the Kansas state line. There was only one room available but it had two beds.

           “Are you hungry?” Max asked, looking for a restaurant that was open at this late hour.

           “I’m starving. Whatever you find that’ll deliver is good enough for me,” she said, disappearing into the bathroom to take a shower.

           “You aren’t a vegetarian or anything, are you?” he asked.

           “No. I’m going to take a quick shower,” she called out.

           When she came out, the food had just been delivered. Two bags and two large cups were on the desk.

           “What did you decide on?” she asked.

           “Burgers and fries. I ordered you a Diet Coke. I noticed that’s what you got when we stopped earlier.”

           “Thanks. We still have sixteen hours left to go. We should leave a little after six in the morning,” she told him, sitting on the bed cross-legged with her food.  

While Max showered, she pulled her laptop out and worked on editing a short piece. This piece wasn’t for work. Rather, it was more personal. It was her reason for needing to return to Cotter. She made her living by writing but now the words she needed to find were eluding her. She heard the water shut off, then a few minutes later, Max stepped out wearing athletic shorts and a tank top.

After he stood there a moment, watching her, he finally asked, “Work?”

She shook her head. and closed the laptop. “No, just something I have to get done. I’m not having much luck. I have a deadline and the words just aren’t coming.”

           “Well, I’m turning in. I’m beat,” he said, pulling the comforter back and getting in bed. He shut his bedside lamp off.

           “I won’t be up much longer,” she told him.

She put the laptop away and went into the bathroom to brush her teeth. His toothbrush and toothpaste were still on the counter. The travel-sized bottles of shampoo and body wash had been left on the tub.

The towel he had used to dry off had been left draped over the shower rod. While she brushed her teeth, she thought about how little she truly packed. Her whole life was usually packed into two pieces of luggage. Her wardrobe consisted of practical clothes and she never carried anything extra, like make-up or books. She never had anyone at home waiting for her return, not even a houseplant. She was more at ease traveling on a plane than she was driving a car, and being in one place too long made her feel stagnant. But maybe Max was right. Maybe one day she would long to have a home and a body to return to, after witnessing the horrors of a war in a foreign land. Maybe one day she would feel the need to have someone in her life who was as constant as the seasons, someone to simply share her life with.

           The next morning she woke up to Max gently shaking her arm.

           “It’s five-thirty. I went out and got us some coffee. Hotels always have lousy coffee,” he said.

           “That’s true. Except maybe in Paris. Everything is better in Paris,” she said, sitting up.

           “I don’t know about Paris. Maybe someday I’ll get to see it but for now I’ll be happy just to get to Alabama.”

           “Me too. Thanks for the coffee.”

They crossed Kansas’ flat plains and then drove through the rolling hills of Missouri, then stopped in Arkansas for a late dinner. Max insisted on paying for their dinner and she finally relented. They filled the time with music and asked each other questions about their lives as they drove through Mississippi and then into Alabama. When they came into Cotter, she asked for directions to where he was going to be staying.

           “Just the motel by the river. It used to be called Hickory Inn.”

           “I remember. It’s been a long trip but I’m glad to have met you. I still can’t believe we met like we did,” she said, turning down a street.

           “Where are you headed next?” he asked.

           “I’m not sure. I might take a little vacation and hang around here. I haven’t visited my parents in a while. When are you headed home to Texas?”

           “Probably Monday.”

She pulled up to the old motel and parked. “Here we are. Do you have a room reserved?”

           “Yeah. I appreciate you letting me ride along. I hope the project you have to finish turns out good. If you’re ever around Rockwall, maybe we’ll run into each other again.”

           “You never know. Take care, Max,” she said, as he got out.

           The next morning she drove across town to the Middlefield Baptist Church. She recognized only a few faces in the packed church. Most were former teachers, aged twenty years since the last time she had seen them. She did recognize some students, some older, some younger than her. The casket at the front of the church was open and a handful of people were standing around it, looking at the many flower arrangements.

Victoria approached, feeling a little bit like she was an unwelcome guest. They knew she didn’t belong here, not anymore.

She peered into the casket, only for a fleeting second. Her seventh-grade English teacher, Mrs. Lillian Howard, had been the one person who had believed in her, all those years ago. Mrs. Howard had been the one who ignited in her a passion for the truth, and it was Mrs. Howard who had told her she was smart enough to do anything she set her mind to and the world would be a better place for it. Victoria had believed every word and when she had graduated from Yale years later with a journalism degree, Mrs. Howard had sent her a letter. Mrs. Howard had never been able to have children and her husband died many years earlier. Looking around, Victoria realized most of the attendees were former students.

           “I do believe the universe is trying to tell us something,” a familiar voice said from off to her right. She turned with a grin.

           “Nice to see you again, Max. I was thinking about it last night and I believe I remember your brother Sean. He was a grade ahead of me, but I remember seeing him around. You must have been a few grades ahead of me.”

           “I was. She was my English teacher too.”

           “You came back just for her funeral?”

           “Yeah, I did. Her students were all she had. We were her family. At my lowest point, when I was in prison, she wrote me a letter every week. It was her faith in me that made me turn my life around. She had this way of making every single kid feel like they were special, or important. The least I can do is pay my respects to her now.”

           “I think they should have asked you to write the eulogy. You just said what I’ve been searching for. I didn’t know what to say about the teacher who touched so many lives, but I do now.”

           After the funeral, Max made his way to her.

           “That was a great speech. I was thinking last night too. When I said maybe we’d run into each other again if you came to Rockwall, I was maybe out of line. I don’t really know you and you don’t know me. I’m sorry if it was inappropriate.”

           Victoria studied his face. “It wasn’t inappropriate. But you are right, I don’t know you but for the first time in a really long time, I feel like I want to know you. Maybe you were right. Maybe one day I’ll want more than always traveling to cover a story. I’ll want to come home to something solid, you know? But last night, I didn’t want to see you get out of the car. I hated the thought that something wonderful was over.”

Max grinned. “How about we just take things slow and see where they go? I can miss a couple days of work, but I’d hate to walk away and miss a lifetime with you.”