was special. Everything was riding on what happened next. A little heavenly intervention would be appreciated.
Without thinking about it, he drank his bodyweight in vodka during the first half of the cross-country flight. The attendant, an eager dude named Mike, earned an over-the-top gratuity for his above and beyond service. The young guy kept the drinks coming and wisely cycled food into the mix.
One distinct advantage to flying private was the food and beverage options. He requested the surf and turf meal and wasn’t disappointed. The charter company’s chef knew his shit, and the jet had a high-tech galley—two things crucial for airplane dining. Dessert was ice cream. Mint chocolate chip drizzled with chocolate sauce.
Fed and satisfyingly inebriated, he availed himself of the executive jet’s bathroom to freshen up. The onboard amenities were fantastic, and he smiled, imagining Summer digging through the courtesy basket, giggling with delight over the haul of name brand freebies.
He wanted to take her anyplace her heart desired. The whole world was waiting to show her a good time. Maybe they’d enjoy real English fish and chips in a London pub, take a stroll along the banks of the River Avon, and make up stories about the hordes of tourists visiting Shakespeare’s birthplace.
They had a place to stay in Hawaii if exploring the island paradise was on her fantasy travel list. His dad loved every opportunity to show off his green thumb kingdom. Summer would be enchanted, and then he’d have to fight his dad for the golden girl’s attention.
The thought filled him with hope.
Returning to the cabin, he motioned to Mike.
“What can I do for you, sir?”
“Time remaining?”
Mike looked at his watch. “Roughly three hours, give or take.”
Arnie nodded. “I’m going to need some shut-eye.”
“The mid-plane seats convert to beds. Would you like me to …”
He cut him off midsentence. “That won’t be necessary. A recliner will do.”
The knowledgeable flight attendant pointed out the most comfortable seating and showed him how to control the lighting. He also produced a sealed pouch containing a beach towel-sized weighted blanket along with a firsthand testimonial about the newest sleep accessory.
Whatever. Exhaustion from four months of high alert clung to him like skunk stink. To recharge, he needed as much quality sleep as he could get. If a heavy blankie came with a sleepy time guarantee, he was there for it.
Two hours later, Arnie yawned, stretched, and sat up. He felt almost human for the first time in months.
When he was fully functioning and had moved around the cabin a bit, Mike was at the ready with fresh coffee and a basket of baked goodies.
“The captain reports we’re fifty minutes out, sir. May I get you anything else?”
“Keep the coffee hot and available.” He gestured to the basket. “Help yourself although that blueberry muffin is mine.”
Mike laughed and snagged a two pack of biscotti in a cellophane bag. “The chef makes the best dunking biscuit around!”
Coffee number one woke him up. Coffee number two provided the mixer for a jolt of sugar. Coffee number three, with cream and a lot less sugar, went down slow and easy. Ingesting vast quantities of caffeine meant eventually he’d pee like a stallion.
Oh, well.
He was two muffins plus a donut in and working on a slice of iced pound cake when the captain let Mike know it was time to lock down in preparation for landing.
Belted into a window seat, Arnie made the time zone adjustment on his watch. Butterflies created havoc in his gut. He popped a breath mint into his mouth and focused on remaining calm.
After two minutes of an honest effort, he gave up. Calm wasn’t an option. Not when Summer was so close.
The bungalow he and Summer used as a lover’s hideaway wasn’t available when he tried to make a reservation and neither were any of the other private accommodations. Forced to settle for a large suite in the hotel, he stashed his bag, called a florist he contacted before leaving New York, and nervously brushed his teeth three times.
The concierge called to let him know the car he rented was on-site and would be available whenever he needed it.
Now that the time was upon him, he wasn’t completely sure what to do first. She could be anywhere—at work or at home. He was prepared to grovel publicly, but Arnie was hoping for something else. He hoped she was home, and if the fates were on his side, he’d catch her relaxed and willing to listen.
At the florist shop,