Clouds

She could see the swimming pools most clearly. Little topaz circles, rectangles and kidneys beaming up from the checkered landscape below. Clouds passing beneath the airplane cast shadows over whole neighborhoods whose residents, she thought, might look out their kitchen windows and call the day overcast.

That morning, sitting in her own kitchen, she had looked up warily at the gray sky and considered packing an umbrella. She sat too long, anticipating always that the next sip of coffee would be the one granting clarity, but the comforting haze of recent sleep still gave sanctuary to thoughts she wasn’t sure she should let out.

“Better get movin’,” Bruce startled her from the kitchen doorway. “Planes don’t wait.”

“I know, I know,” she said, moving passed him with a quick kiss on the way to the bedroom.

“Time flies like and arrow,” Bruce called after her. She rolled her eyes.

“And fruit flies like a banana,” they said in unison – one of the phrases that had crept in to their familiar vernacular. She hastily threw clothes into a small shoulder bag, and forgot about the umbrella after all.

“When did you last see Rebecca?” Bruce asked, dodging traffic on the way to the airport.

“Two years ago. I think,” her face flushed, and she was glad Bruce was distracted with the driving, “at her wedding.” She pressed her cheek to the cool window.

“Right, right,” said Bruce. “And this Tom fellow she married is a good guy, I hope. I’ve always liked Rebecca.”

“Yeah. He’s a good guy.” Rebecca kept her eyes on the passing scenery of corporate parks and airport hotels. “I’m sure you’d like him. Tom, Rebecca and I were all pretty good friends in college.”

“Maybe they could bring the baby and come and visit us sometime.”

Rebecca closed her eyes, “yeah, maybe. I’ll ask.”

- - -

A wail from across the airplane aisle yanked her gaze away from the window. Tears tumbled over the reddening cheeks of an infant in her row. Her glance caught the father’s apologetic eyes, and she smiled. For six months she had planned to fly out and visit once Rebecca’s baby was born, but as the date of the trip approached, she had grown less and less sure why she was really going. Watching as the father thumbed tears away from the baby’s face, she imagined Tom holding his own newborn with such tenderness. She turned back toward the window. Clouds moved in, blocking her view of the houses below as the plane tipped forward to land.

Stepping outside the terminal to the airport pick up lane, she looked around for Rebecca’s familiar face, fixed in her mind by the photos around her house – college graduation, their trip to Mexico, a dress fitting for Rebecca’s wedding. Her throat began to feel tight. She swallowed hard and looked up to the clouds for help. A rain drop hit her cheek, and her eyes fluttered in surprise.

“I’ve got something for that.” Tom appeared, unfurling an umbrella and holding it out over her head. Tom smiled his broad, confident smile and took her shoulder bag. “Rebecca’s at home with the baby so I volunteered to pick you up.” He stood with an innocent tilt to his head, and reached up to wipe the fallen raindrop from her cheek.

“You’d better keep this” he said, taking her hand to place the umbrella handle in it. “This rain has been coming and going all day.”

“Thanks, Tom,” she managed, silently pleading with the clouds to stay.