Acceptance: JENNIE MAKES HER MIND UP

Who is that woman in my mirror? Whose long thin legs are going into the handsome tan wool gabardine slacks? ‘It’s , me!’ I say, then mutter to myself, Correction-‘it is I.’ As usual, I am early and will sit and wait to greet my daughter arriving on Delta 107 at 5 p.m. My watch tells me what I knew, I’m early. It is only 4:30. Early is better than late. Just once my flight back from Paris arrived twenty five minutes early. I still have visions of Carla, one of the two stewardesses, almost flying on her own down the narrow aisle to prepare us for the early gift. The girls were cleaning up, waking the few who could sleep thru most anything. Captain Mc Court made an announcement that actually could be heard. ‘We have been cleared for an early landing as Stewardess Carla is getting married today and has to catch a flight to Wilmington. She came twirling down the aisle, extending the trash bag, as we passengers applauded.

 

Thrilled, itching to get off early was for nothing. There was no reason to scratch. At our gate the exit runway didn’t appear until it’s normal time. The exit door was stuck and had to be worked on from the outside. Grumbling, we all got off never knowing, never caring, if Carla got married or not. Did I learn to not rush to the airport, in case, a plane is early? No I did not.

 

My daughter, Jennie definitely knows I will be at the luggage area first. Her flight docks on time. Passengers, in all sorts of frenzies  begin entering Bay L40 to grab their luggage and run. Jennie evidently did not manage to get a seat up close to the exit like I always tell her to do. People surround me, pushing for a spot to grab the turning luggage, golf bags. I pace as best I can, watch and then spot Jennie’s 3 plaid bags...but not Jennie. Her things go around again. They are the only cases not recovered.  I am shaking like Kellogg’s pouring from a new box. Where is Jennie?

 

‘Mom, Mom,’ music to my ears. ‘Here I am,’ she yells as she runs and almost knocks me over. I’m out of control and shout back at her. ‘Where the hell have you been, Jennie? Why do you have to worry me all the time?’ Indignantly she puts me down. ‘Mom, stop that cussing. You taught me better and do it yourself.’ ‘As I was freshening up my lipstick, combing my hair to look extra nice to see you, I noticed my right diamond stud was missing and panicked.’ Slowly and carefully I look at her two diamond less lobes. ‘Kiss them goodbye, Jen. Let’s go home. Gone is gone is gone. Let’s get out of this f’n place. ‘Mom, stop using that language. You are a pain in the neck. And you have no faith, no confidence in your daughter. I found the one under the seat two in front of mine. The landing bump must have made it roll forward. I had already taken the safe one off and put it in my wallet.’ ‘Come on, Mom, let’s go home. I’m starving, Are we having your fantastic lasagna and garlic bread for dinner? 

 

Walking side by side, Jenny pushes the cart I had brought for her luggage and I handle her roll on case. She’s bubbly, effervescent, no
sign of being tired. Me? I’m pooped from being too early, from worrying why my daughter was late getting off the plane.

 

I love her so very much but I let her get to me too often. ‘Jennie, you haven’t even asked where Dad is, why he’s not here.’ We reach my car. She handles the lifting and waits until I start the motor before she says another word., Mom, where’s Dad? How is he? Why didn’t he come with you?’

 

I reply. ‘Ask him yourself or not. You know he won’t give up his evening basketball games on t.v. You have me. Isn’t this enough?’ Jenny takes my right hand  off the wheel, squeezes it and bends over to kiss my cheek. Hubby has set the oven on low and the lasagna is heating.