The flight had been a long one and he was exhausted. The trip had gone well, better than he had hoped, but a trip was never like being at home. He yearned for the feel of his own shower, his own bed, and his own surroundings. The plane began its descent and he felt the familiar tightening in his stomach as the pilot banked first left, then right, and finally leveled out for the final approach. As the wheels touched down, he instinctively reached for his cell phone and turned it on.
The flight attendants began their post-landing script as he watched the phone first boot up, then register the signal.
"...and do be careful when opening the overhead bins as items may have shifted during flight."
He pushed the speed dial button for his house and placed the phone to his ear. It rang four times and then he heard his own voice speaking to him, "You have reached...." He sighed and hung up the phone, realizing that Dannie must be out. He unbuckled his seat belt as the plane approached the gate and then felt the phone vibrate. He pulled the phone from its holster and saw the new text message screen.
Hope you had a good trip. I'm going out with Nicky and Liz at 10:30. I'll see you late. Love, D
He raised his eyebrows slightly before placing the phone back on his hip. He stood and arched his back, then opened the overhead bin and pulled out his overcoat and suitcase. He picked up his briefcase and headed for the exit.
"Goodbye, Mr. Grove," said the first-class stewardess as she gestured to the door.
"Thank you, Suzanne. See you again soon, I'm sure."
Grove ducked out of the door and walked up the gangway pulling his suitcase behind him. As he reached the terminal door he put on a faint smile, glad to be home. He walked toward the garage glancing from side to side, noting the shops. His meditation was broken by a loud voice.
"Yo, John-o!, Johnny-boy!"
John Grove paused his walk and closed his eyes tightly for one second, steeling himself for the encounter. He rallied, turned with conviction and put on a smile. "Hi, Fred, how are you?"
Fred Mercer grinned. "Fan-fucking-tastic," he nearly shouted, causing several people to cut disapproving glances. "I just got back from Phoenix. I inked that Johnson deal and I'm ready to celebrate. You wanna get dinner and drinks? I'll call Josie and you can call Dannie and we can make it a foursome. How about it?"
John inwardly thanked Dannie before turning on his best 'I'm sorry' smile. "Afraid we can't, Fred. Dannie already has plans."
The two men resumed walking. Fred said, "Well how about just you and me? We can get dinner and do the titty bars. It'll be fun."
A bare smirk crossed John's face as he said, "That does sound tempting, but I just got back from Seattle and I'd really like to get home and relax."
Fred chuffed. "Alright man, your loss. Some of those girls look like...." John let his mind drift as Fred talked about the relative merits of women in their early twenties he'd seen twirling on poles. Walking along they looked an odd pair. An overweight man of average height, Fred's ruddy complexion and obvious lack of exercise made him look older than his 40 years. John looked like the sort of man who worked out regularly but not obsessively and who knew the value of dressing well. Even his glasses didn't detract, and few would have guessed that John was five years older than his walking companion.
"...and they had the perkiest...," Fred went on as they passed the security checkpoint. Fred's monologue continued unabated as they approached baggage claim. As John turned toward the garage Fred asked, "Hey, don't you have to get your luggage?"
John smiled. "Nope. Got it all right here."
"How do you travel so light?"
"Practice I guess. Hey, Fred, I'm going to head on home. See you in the office next week."
"Alright, man, enjoy your lonely night. I'm gonna see me some ladies," Fred said with a large grin.
"You do that."
Fred walked toward baggage claim as John turned left toward the parking deck. He found his car, put his luggage in the trunk, and opened the driver's door. Moving through the faint smell of stale Armor-All he got in and started the car. The Benz's engine purred to life and he backed out, glancing at the clock in the dash. He did the mental calculus, '7:30 now, 30 minutes to get home, about an hour to unpack, decompress, and shower. Go and get some dinner at about 9PM.'
He pulled up to the exit, handed his ticket to the attendant with the correct amount of cash, then smiled and waved as he pulled under the raised arm. He gently accelerated down Airport Road, then more forcefully as he took the onramp to the interstate. He got to his comfortable speed and settled in for the drive home. Had he come in two hours earlier the trip would have taken over an hour but by timing his return he missed rush hour and the irritation it brought.
John drove without aggression, making calm lane changes, passing and being passed. He reached the exit for his bedroom community and made the six turns between the interstate and his house with the ease of long practice. Despite being so close to the highway, his neighborhood had enough standing old trees that the feeling was one of a remote country lane. In a fluid motion he tapped the garage door remote and turned into his driveway, gliding under the lifting door and placing his car in the middle. He lowered the front windows as he turned off the car and closed the garage door. He exhaled and let his shoulders sag, relaxing into the moment. He retrieved his coat and suitcase, then walked up the five steps to the entry door. John entered the vestibule and passed into the kitchen where he noticed the flashing light on the answering machine. He tapped the button and heard that there was one old and one new message. He selected the old message first, noting the timestamp at 5:30PM.
A man's voice came on, saying, "Hey Dannie, great to hear from you. I tried your cell phone but it didn't go through so I thought I'd try here. It has been a while and I'd love to get together for drinks. The usual place at 10:30? I'll be there unless I hear from you. And Dannie, wear that dress I like. See you later."
John Grove crinkled his eyebrows together, clenched his jaws, pressed the delete button, and listened for the second time stamp. The next message had been left only a half hour before.
A woman's voice said, "Hey John, it's Bonnie. Welcome back. I hope you had a good trip. Listen, Dave called me and told me he'd be late again tonight so I was wondering if you'd be interested in dinner. Maybe you and Dannie can come over and the three of us can get a late bite. Give me a call when you're in and let me know."
Grove frowned and waited for the answering machine's cycle to finish before deleting the second message. He went to the refrigerator, pulled out a bottle of Sam Adams ale, opened it, and took a long pull. He pursed his lips as he felt the cold liquid warming and chilling him simultaneously. He took another pull, then took two steps to the phone and picked it up. He used speed dial to call Bonnie Matthews.
"Hello?"
"Hey, Bonnie? John Grove here."
"Oh, hi John, thanks for calling back."
"No worries. So is Dave being a weasel again?"