Chapter 30: Planes, Trains, and No Automobiles

Aidan held the borrowed cell phone to his ear, holding his breath.

One ring… Two rings….

She wasn’t going to answer. He knew it. This was what she always did. Straight to voicemail. He wondered if he should leave a message. Maybe he should fill up her mailbox again. Couldn’t hurt. That’s what got her to come back the last time she ran away.

He began to rehearse inside his head the first message he should leave. “Kate,” he would say. “I know you’re upset. Can we please be rational adults and have a conversation about this…”

No, no. That might make it worse. Never call a woman irrational. Even if she was being completely batshit crazy. She was, wasn’t she? Or was he the crazy one?

Three rings… Four rings….

Always best just to apologize. No matter who was right and who was wrong, always apologize. Just say, “Kate, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m so, so, so, so sorry—“

“Hello?”

Aidan stood in silence, temporarily stunned by the sound of Kate’s voice on the other end of the line.

“Hello?”

She answered. She actually answered. His mouth wasn’t working.

“Hello?” she said for a third time.

He could hear her voice trailing off at the end of the word. She must have pulled the phone away from her face - probably about three seconds away from hanging up.

Speak, Aidan screamed at himself inside his head. “Don’t hang up!” he managed to shout at last.

“Hello? Is somebody there?”

“Kate! Don’t hang up!”

He heard nothing but dead air on the other end of the call. Was he too slow? He looked down at the screen to see if the call had dropped. No, it was still connected…

There. That was her voice again. He put the phone back up to his ear.

“—this conversation ,” she was saying. “Don’t you think?”

“What? Don’t I think what?”

“Aidan, where are you?”

“I’m here!”

“You are?”

“Just—“ He broke off, trying to collect himself. His mind was racing. He still couldn’t believe she picked up the phone.  Now he just needed to convince her to let him talk to her before she got on a plane.

He needed to be calm. Calm and soothing.

“Listen,” he began again. “I know you’re upset. Just tell me where you are, OK? Please?”

“I’m here,” she said.

He closed his eyes and forced himself to breathe slowly. In and out. In and out. Calm and soothing. “Could you possibly be more specific?”

“Where are you?”

“I’m in the big main hall thingie.”

“You mean the lobby?”

“Yeah,” he said. “You know, where the people line up at the counters.”

“The check-in desk?”

“Right.”

“Aidan, why are you down there—”

He missed the end of her sentence, as an announcement came booming over the PA: “THIS IS THE FINAL BOARDING CALL FOR US AIRWAYS FLIGHT 361 WITH SERVICE TO…”

Aidan put his hand over his ear to hear better. “What?” he shouted into the phone.

“What was that?” she said. “Are you at the airport?”

“Yes!”

“Why? Where are you going?”

He placed one elbow on the counter in front of him and rested his forehead against it, willing himself not to lose his patience.

“Kate,” he said, pronouncing each word as slowly and carefully as he could manage. “I swear to God if you don’t tell me where you are in the next 30 seconds I am going to have a heart attack.”

She was silent.

“Where are you?” he shouted.

“I’m in the hotel room!” she shouted back.

Hotel room? Did she go to another hotel? “What hotel?”

“What do you mean, what hotel? How many hotel rooms do you have?”

“Wait—“

“Whatever, Aidan.  You just go do your thing. Have a nice trip. I’ll see you when I see you.”

“No!” He shook his head violently. “No no no no no. Katie, just tell me what hotel you’re in.”

He heard her let out her breath in a huff. “The Beverly Hilton?”

The Beverly Hilton. Good, he thought. Wait. Wait a minute. The Beverly Hilton?

“You didn’t leave?” He stood bolt upright, holding onto the counter with one hand for support. “But I saw you! I saw you leaving this morning.”

“I just went for a walk around the block.”

“A walk around the—“

“Aidan, did you think I went to the airport?”

Shit. He probably shouldn't say yes to that. Shit shit shit. “Um, maybe?”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, Kate. People don’t really go for walks around the block in LA. That’s more of an East Coast thing.”

“Well, there you have it.” She sounded annoyed. Shit, she sounded annoyed. “We figured it out. In case you were in any doubt, Aidan, I am not from LA.”

OK. It was OK. She was annoyed, but the main thing was she didn’t leave. She was still at the hotel. He felt a burst of elation that he hadn’t missed her.

“Just sit tight. I’m on my way. I’ll be right there. OK?”

“Fine," she said. "I’m not going anywhere.”

He clicked the phone back off. She wasn’t going anywhere. She hadn’t run away. She just went for a walk around the block. Maybe she wasn’t even mad at him. Maybe everything was fine. OK, he thought, breaking into a broad grin. OK. OK. OK. Everything was fine.

He began striding toward the main exit. He slipped the cell phone into his pocket as he went.

“Wait!” he heard a voice say behind him. He turned around to see the girl behind the airline counter waving at him frantically. “Wait! Wait!” she called.

Fuck, he thought. He’d promised her a picture.

“Sorry!” he called back, pointing at the spot on his wrist where his watch would normally sit. “No time for pictures!”

He had spun back toward the exit when he heard her voice stammering behind him. “But—But—BUT THAT’S MY PHONE!”

He stopped in his tracks, mentally slapping himself in the forehead. He could just see the headline now. “Hollywood Celebrity Steals Cell Phone from Adoring Fan!” Annette would have a field day with that one.

He turned and jogged back over to her. “Sorry.”

He shot her a sheepish grin as he slid the phone back to her. Then, on a whim, he leaned across the counter a planted a kiss on her cheek.

“You’re a lifesaver!” he said. She clapped her hand over her mouth in astonishment as he turned and once again headed for the exit.

He made it to the doors at last and swiveled his head left and right, trying to remember where he had left his car. Oh right, he didn’t have a car. He had a motorcycle.

That motorcycle over there, probably. The shiny black one that he could just make out in the distance. The one he must have left in a No Parking zone. The one now attached to the back of a tow truck – currently being hauled away.