The airport was crowded. The fear of flying and a failing economy has yet to cripple the airlines here. My father in law let us out at the front, and said he was going to get gas and be back within an hour. If I wasn’t there, I’d better have cab fair. Lovely man. We walked in silence to the front desk, where we waited in line for nearly twenty minutes. I was there, but not emotionally. I was getting my way, but it wasn’t the way I wanted it. I showed ID. Dennis paid for my round trip ticket. While the cashier was processing the ticket, he asked me if I was sure James would be there to meet me. I nodded. James has yet to let me down. Was I sure this was what I wanted? Of course. I’d wanted it for sixteen years. I just wish I would have been spending it with him. The cashier smiled and handed me my ticket. She told me to enjoy my flight. Sure. I will. In a week when my flight takes off. Dennis picked up his back pack and we slowly walked to the gate of his flight. I got a good glance at those new x-ray scanners. They looked kind of scary. My EMR badge was still pinned to my pea coat. It was blinking amber as we approached the gate. I wondered if others knew of the showers of x-rays near the gates to the runway?

Dennis stood by the window, watching planes land and taxi off. My back and calves were killing me from physical therapy yesterday. I had to sit down. After several minutes, I got up and approached Dennis at the windows. “You never did give me back my camera battery,” I said, breaking the ice. He didn’t seem surprised. “It’s in the charger on the dresser. It’s been there all along,” he replied. Oh. I knew that. “I didn’t see it. This was on the dresser this morning,” I said, and held out the silver, simple band that read “forever” on it. His wedding band. “We can’t wear these. No one is wearing theirs,” he replied. “You’re not a nobody,” I said, and pressed the ring into the palm of his hand. I walked over to the other window. Watching in the reflection of the windows, I caught a glimpse of Dennis slipping his wedding band on. I smiled. He came over to me and hugged me. “It’s going to be a long two weeks.” “It’s longer than two weeks.” “Don’t remind me.”

“I want you to go to treatments. I want you to try to get well for me while I’m gone,” he said. There was a lump in my throat. “What if I’m not supposed to get well?” I asked. “You are. We’re supposed to have a happy ending,” he said. “Says who?” I asked, playfully. “Says you. You’re the poet with the pen in your hand.”

His flight was called. We kissed. I watched him walk to the plane, board, and I waited for the plane to taxi off the disappear into the clear blue sky, before I realised tears were streaming down my cheeks. Going outside, I noticed my father in law wasn’t there. Had it been an hour? I sat down on a bench outside the airport and lit up a cigarette. I’d wait a few more minutes and then call a cab, I told myself. I looked at the ticket in my hand, December 8th. New York City. Returning December 11th. I took out my phone and sent James a text message that I had my ticket. Did he have his? I’m sure I looked like a hot mess sitting there on that bench, smoking, tears running down my cheeks, sniffing like a cocaine addict.

My father in law showed up, finally, just as I was getting a response from James. I ground out my cigarette on the bench seat and limped to the car, happy to be going home, but sad that I was going home alone. My boys were in the back seat, sleeping. I didn’t wake them up.

Tomorrow I have blood work. Lab tests. I also have to light a fire under my ass and start doing my physical therapy exercises. I took today off because of Dennis going away, and because I’ve been in pain from the day before. If I don’t try, I won’t get well. If I don’t try, I won’t let myself go to the City. And yes, I checked, my camera battery was in its charger, on the dresser. How did I miss that?