Mistletoe Reunion

“Mom!” Isabella protested, casting a sidelong look from the book to Tom.

“Are you any good at those puzzles?” Tom asked, ignoring Isabella.

Norah shrugged. “Not really, but I can usually manage the simple ones.”

“Can I try?” Tom asked, holding out his hand for the book.

Norah passed him the soft-covered book and held out her pencil.

Tom pulled a pen from his pocket and grinned. “No guts, no glory,” he said and settled in to work the puzzle with Isabella’s help.

Norah watched as he clicked the pen on and off—his hand tan against the pale cream starched cuff of his shirt. He wore dark brown casual slacks and a pullover sweater in a sort of copper shade that accented his tan and highlighted the gold flecks in his eyes. She heard his deep voice consulting with Isabella on an entry, his laughter when Isabella stopped him from making a mistake. He bent forward and ran his free hand through his hair. When a lock fell over his forehead, she literally had to tighten her grip on the armrest to resist the urge to smooth it back into place as she would have before.

Before. When they were married. When they were—

“Mom!”

Norah blinked. “Sorry,” she said softly, still caught up in the fantasy of who she and Tom had once been to each other.

“I said, can you see what’s happening? Why aren’t we moving?”

Norah turned her attention to the window. It was coated with sleet. “I can’t see,” she said and just then the plane made a slow turn to the right. “I think we might be—”

“Ladies and gentlemen, weather conditions have changed. We need to de-ice the wings before we can take off. Please feel free to move about the cabin for the time being. We’ll be on our way as soon as possible.”

This time a chorus of groans rolled through the cabin as passengers crowded the aisle, rearranging the contents of overhead bins, stretching as they commiserated about the inconveniences of modern travel. Tom took advantage of the extra space afforded by being in the last row across from the galley. “Come on, Bella, stretch your legs.”

Isabella followed her father’s lead in a series of calf stretches and knee bends. The crew toured the cabin offering packages of pretzels and promising full beverage service once they were airborne.

“Your turn,” Tom said and held out his hand to Norah. Norah slid across the row and stood in the aisle without taking his hand. “Feels good,” she said as she stretched her arms high over her head, her fingertips grazing the ceiling.

Isabella lifted the armrests on their row and stretched out across all three seats, her MP3 player earphones in place. She closed her eyes and bounced her head and shoulders to the music they couldn’t hear.

“I’m going for a little walk,” Norah said, suddenly uncomfortable to find herself standing next to Tom—far too near to Tom for comfort.

He grinned. “Just stay inside the plane,” he called as she edged forward.

The truth was she needed some time to think about the impact of spending Thanksgiving three blocks away from Tom and his family. In fact, there was no doubt that they would be thrown together often once they were back in Normal. His parents and hers belonged to the same church and were still close friends. Isabella would move easily between the two houses. Izzy’s aunts and cousins would surely want to include Isabella in whatever extravaganza they were concocting for the anniversary. They would certainly include Norah’s parents—and Norah—in the invitation as well.

The aisle was crowded with other passengers and the plane was not nearly long enough for Norah to stay away indefinitely. She glanced back and saw Tom talking to another passenger. Ahead stood the businessman glaring at her as the young mother tried in vain to soothe the newborn and the toddler, both of whom were crying now. The scene gave new meaning to “between a rock and a hard place” but by far the lesser of the two evils was to return to her seat.

Isabella had dozed off, so Norah perched on the aisle armrest. Tom finished his exchange with the passenger waiting to use the restroom and turned. He was standing toe to toe with her, his forearm resting against the overhead bin. He’d removed his sweater and rolled back the sleeves of his shirt.

“How was your walk?” he asked.

“Fine,” she replied and then blushed. “Uneventful,” she added with a slight smile.

Tom did not return her smile. Instead he studied her closely. “You look great, Norah,” he said.

Norah ran a self-conscious hand through her hair. “I’ve been up since four and my—”

“Why do you do that?” he asked. “You never used to do that.”

Norah fought a twinge of irritation. I never used to doubt that a marriage I thought was forever could fall apart in a matter of months. What did he know about her these days? “Do what?” she asked.

“Put yourself down. Someone pays you a compliment and you—”

“You know, Tom, it has been a number of years. I might have changed in that time.”

“I expect we both have, but—”

“Izzy tells me you’re seeing someone new,” she interrupted, determined to turn the focus from herself to him.

“Izzy doesn’t approve of my choice in female companionship,” he said with a glance at their sleeping daughter.

Norah shrugged. “She just needs time.”

“Speaking of time,” Tom said clearing his throat. “Five years and not once seeing each other, Norah—it’s a long time. How did that happen?” He leaned in to allow another passenger to pass. His face was closer to hers now. His eyes locked on hers and she saw that he looked tired.

“It’s not like we weren’t in touch,” she countered. “I mean we were always on the phone or leaving messages about Izzy. I think we’ve done well by her, don’t you?”

“Stop changing the subject. You didn’t want to see me. Why?”

Norah shifted uncomfortably. “That was just at first. I mean it was all so fresh and we were both so vulnerable and I thought that maybe—”

“But to let not one, but five years pass?”

“It just happened, Tom. I didn’t plan it and you could have just as easily—” She was whispering, keenly aware of others around them but equally aware that she could have been shouting and few other passengers would have cared. They were all that wrapped up in their own problems.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please return to your seats and fasten your seat belts.”

This time the general chorus of commentary was filled with relief and even laughter as passengers returned to their seats and buckled up.

Norah tapped Isabella’s leg. “Turn that off and fasten your seat belt,” she instructed.

Isabella swung her legs around and did as she was told, only she took the obvious seat—the one by the window.

“I’ll take the middle,” Tom offered.

“No, I’ve got it,” Norah said as she sat down, lowered both armrests and fastened her seat belt. She picked up the puzzlebook Tom had left on his seat, waited for him to sit down and then handed it to him.

“Thanks.” He took out his pen and concentrated on the puzzle as Isabella stared out the window.

After several moments she reported their progress. “I think we’re going back to the terminal.”

“That’s impossible,” Norah said, leaning across her to look out the window. But her daughter was right. “Now what?” Norah muttered.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we are returning to the gate area. We regret that the airport is being closed for the time being. A major winter storm is passing through the area and we had hoped to get away in front of it, but it’s coming too fast. Once we are at the gate you may deplane and there will be airline personnel inside the terminal with more information. Please feel free to make use of your cell phones to notify those who may be meeting you in Chicago of this unexpected situation—and thank you once again for choosing—”