Delayed. But hark ... is that Jodi Picoult?
Leave work early to travel north to pick up Chris at the airport. As soon as I leave Westport, the sky opens up and throws down fistfuls of snow at the highway, making it not unlike driving through an enormous down comforter. Traffic crawls to a halt.
In addition to the literal snowfall, a flurry of phone calls, emails, and text messages comes streaming into my phone. Flight delayed. Flying into JFK. Delays due to the weather. Not sure when arriving in RI. Gives me the flight number. I plug it into the Delta alert system so I'll get automatic emails on my phone with his itinerary.
Snow falls and sticks to my windshield. The wind is whipping my little VW around like a kite. Despite the raging, random blizzard, I decide now is the time to test my blood sugar. 185 mg/dl. Reach like a gymnast into my sock for the pump. Lace in a few tenths. Continue the arduous drive.
Arrive in RI. What do I do now? I have no idea where he is, or when his plane is arriving, or where it's even coming in to. I feel like Donnie Darko, in a completely tangled time/space pocket.
Call my friend Batman.
"Hey. Chris's flight is completely screwed up. I have no clue where he is. Can I come crash at your place for a few hours?"
"Um, I'm not home."
"Okay, where are you?"
"Dude, come to the Providence Place Mall and meet me. Jodi Picoult is doing a book signing. I already bought you a book. It was supposed to be a surprise! Now you can just do it yourself." Her grin comes through the phone and melts some of the snow on my windows.
Jodi Picoult? Only one of my favorite authors. (I've read everything she's put out and I'm currently knee-deep in her latest, Nineteen Minutes.) And now she's 30 minutes from where I'm sitting on the highway? Can't think of a better way to kill time waiting for Chris to touch down.
I have to admit - I like talking to pretty much anyone. I don't become very nervous. But when I was standing next to Jodi and introducing myself, I definitely felt my knees buckle a small bit.
Went back to Batman's house and stole her computer to do some work for a few hours. The phone continued to holler out updates as to Chris's status: Departing at 9:39 pm. Arriving at 11 pm. Arriving at 12:47 am. Arriving at 1:49 am. Holy delay. Chris will be flying the plane himself. Arriving at 2:59 am.
At three in the morning, the phone finally rang. I unraveled myself from Batman's couch, where I had been trying to catnap, and grumbled out a muffled "Eh?"
"I am finally, finally here, baby."
At three-thirty in the morning, after almost 24 hours of traveling, Chris was finally home. And, like the lunatics we are, we drove home from RI to CT, arriving back here at 5:45 in the morning. I drove back, existing solely off of the adrenaline of meeting Jodi Picoult and the excitement of having my boyfriend back home. We crashed into bed, upsetting two small kitties who were sleeping and earning dirty looks from their furry selves.