Chapter 4 -- Bad Week
The pace of flights quickened, and my trips began to see a common theme of vacation spots. I was now even flying into Central America and the Caribbean. Unfortunately, the craziness also saw Jane pick up mostly west coast trips, and we spent the next couple weeks not seeing each other, although we talked on the phone. We also texted and chatted online, and I got a bunch of great pictures of her that made my trips a lot better. I hadn't discussed what was said that night at her place, what she had said in her sleep, and I had chalked it up to just murmuring from a dream. Finally, by mid-June, we were on our third week apart, when I realized that we both had an overnight in New Orleans. I immediately called her up, only to get her voicemail. Figures, she's in the air. I texted her, and almost immediately received a text reply; "We need to talk, one hour." That sounded ominous.
I had paired up with Rory again, who, in addition to being a good pilot, was sharp as hell. "Tell Jane I said hello" he said, huge grin on his face.
I gave him the 'don't start with me' look, and quietly whispered over to him "I'm trying to keep this hush-hush." Rory's grin just widened, as he packed up his stuff, I wondered what was going on. We were still in the aircraft, getting everything set up for the next crew, and about to head to the shuttle. There were a thousand thoughts in my head; part of me, a good sized part, was worried that she was tiring of this, and wanted to see someone else. My imagination took hold for a second, until I pushed it away, deciding that it didn't do me any good to over think the situation
I was talking through the airport when my phone rang. I told the others to go ahead without me, that I'd find a shuttle of my own to the hotel. I answered, and Jane was on the other line, sounding somewhat stressed. We made small talk, her trying to avoid the meat of the subject. Finally, she said "Tom, I'm not going to be in New Orleans. I'm catching flights to get to Montreal ASAP."
"What's going on, are you okay?" I was worried at this point.
"I'm fine, and just so you know, we're okay, but Robert was arrested overnight for money laundering." Jane dropped the bomb on me.
What in the fuck is going on? "Jane, if you need me, please call" I said, not knowing how much help I could even be.
"Thank you Tom" she replied "but I'm not even sure you can be of moral support right now."
I was starting to worry "Okay, but seriously, if you need anything, I'm here for you." She thanked me, we talked about my upcoming schedule, and she made what seemed like a halfhearted promise to meet me somewhere.
I got more of the story at the hotel via text messages and the news. Eventually, Jane had started messaging me again from the flight. From what she knew, it looked like Robert's firm had a Canadian politician as a client, who just so happened to be doing some insider trading. Robert, being a partner, had made the rash decision to protect the client when protecting the firm would have been wiser. Jane had joked that it made sense, given that the politician was a younger female. I could now see why she had said it; the entire thing looked like it was part of a tryst that her ex had gotten into. Jane and I were texting until she got to Montreal, at which point she said she'd probably have to be incommunicado for a few days. I was missing her that evening at the hotel, and the final day of that trip went by too slowly, as I had all of the time to think about Jane. When I got to Detroit, I was stopped by one of the local office staff, and said that I was being shifted to cover for a sick pilot. I'd still get 48 hours off for rest, and the trip was only a two-day one. What sealed it for me, however, was that the single stop on the trip would be in Montreal. I could see Jane.
The rest days and first flying day went fast, and I found myself in Miami, heading for Montreal, with one problem; possibly no Jane, she had spent a good part of the week in Montreal talking to lawyers, accountants, government investigators, and on occasion, friends from college. Even though she finally was able to start communicating again, it was mostly through text messages, and the only two times we talked on the phone, the calls were brief. My brain was telling me that the worst was happening, that Jane was back in Montreal for Robert. I knew it couldn't be true...but my brain was asking me to look into places I didn't want to go.
Finally, having given Jane her space, I had to talk to her. While waiting for the plane we were supposed to take over to come in, I called her from a quiet place in the airport. She answered, and I started "Jane, I want to talk to you."
"Tom, I'm kind of busy right now" Jane replied, tensely, seemingly irritated that I'd interrupted something.
"Jane, I'm in Miami, and I'll be in Montreal in a few hours. I just want to know if I can see you" I said.
Jane paused for a second, and I could tell she wanted this conversation to go away. Finally, she said "Tom, I don't know if you've noticed, but now isn't a good time."
I saw red. "Jane, I don't know what's going on, because you won't talk to me. I don't know how to make you feel better, because you won't talk to me. I don't know if you're even okay right now, because you won't talk to me. All I know is that you got on a plane to Montreal, to see your ex-husband, because Ro-."
Jane cut me off "Fuck you Tom. Fuck you and your fucking accusation. I didn't fucking fly to Montreal just to fuck my ex-husband. Fuck you Tom. Fuck you, I really want you to take your fucking thoughts and sh-."
I cut her back off "Fuck you too, Janine, I hope you have a good life" and hung up. I used her full name, which I knew she didn't like being called.
I sat there and stared at the phone, immediately regretting everything. I wish I hadn't called her. I wish I hadn't let my imagination run wild. I wished I hadn't gotten angry. I even regretted taking the flight, but not just because of Jane. After departure, I started to get the chills, and was full on feverish as the plane pulled into the gate. Franklin, my copilot, helped me get my stuff to outside of the crew lounge ("I'm not letting you in there in your condition" was his only rule to helping me), and I caught the shuttle to the hotel. A call to the company later, and I was off the cursed flight, pilot number two to get the flu.
Things could be going better in my life. It was, by now, late June. I had a vacation planned with my kids in a few weeks, and I knew I'd still be feeling the after-effects of being sick. I was stuck in Montreal, probably for the next few days while I got well enough to fly. I had another trip that was supposed to start, now, within a week, and that was probably out as well. The cherry topper on the shit cake was that, through my own stupidity and insecurity, I had blown up the relationship with Jane. I spent the first few hours in the hotel, watching TV, trying to take my mind of off everything. I could still smell her. This wasn't normal for me, not for a relationship this short. Hell, my ex and I had spent months apart with no ill effects. Jane, though. Jane... My thoughts drifted off, and I couldn't think about anything else. After a few hours, I drifted off to sleep, and slept until 10am the next morning, a solid 15 hours later. When I awoke, I still was feverish, and now in bad need of some food. I called down to the hotel restaurant to order breakfast up to the room. After about 20 minutes, there was a knock on the door. I answered it in my bathrobe, without seeing who it was.
It was Jane.
Her face wasn't beautiful. Her eyes were puffy. She wasn't wearing makeup. Her hair was a mess. She looked at me with a mix of sadness and anger. "Can I come in, Tom?" she asked tensely. I motioned her in, and saw the room service waiter come out of the elevator. Jane went inside the room, and I paid the bill for my expensive breakfast. I closed the door, and could now see, with the lightning of the room, that she was crying slightly.
We just stood there, looking at each other, and I could feel us each trying to dare the other to talk. "Jane, I don't know where to even beg-" I began, but Jane just started sobbing. Body wracking, earth shattering sobbing. I stood there and watched her, and couldn't even think of a way to even say something that would stop it.
After a minute of that, Jane looked at me, still sobbing, and stammered out "Hold me you asshole" between sobs. I walked over and did so. She cried like that for about 20 minutes, before I got her to sit on the bed. She continued to cry hard, the whole time sobbing worse than I had ever seen someone do it.
After an hour, she stopped, and began; "Tom, as much as you missed me, I've missed you so much more, and wanted you to be here with me so much, but," she trailed off, but before I could get a word in "but I need to know that you trust me, because my ex never did, and it was one of the many things that made it hard to trust guys after the divorce."
I was shocked, but agreed "Jane, I trust you, I just" I halted, trying to think of what I could say "had a bad way of putting that I missed you."
"You could say that again, you jerk" she said, smiling through her tears. "But I need to know you really trust me, and that I can trust you. Because I'm about to tell you something." I was waiting for it. This was going to be bad. She was probably still married to Robert, and I was just her side toy. I had enough hurt for a lifetime, having Jane angry at me. I didn't think I could take more of it.
