Got to the airport almost an hour early.
Habit, I guess.
My grandfather used to say:
“If you’re on time, you’re already late.”
Spent most of that hour pretending I wasn’t checking the arrivals board every five minutes.
Flight finally landed a little after eight.
Crowd started spilling out into the terminal.
Then I saw her.
Still walked like she knew exactly where she was going.
Think I got the slightest smirk out of her when she spotted me.
Not sure if it was because she was happy to see me or because I brought her coffee.
Gave me a quick hug.
“How’s my bike?”
Same smirk when she said it too.
Told her:
“How about I buy you breakfast, I’ll tell you about the bike, and you can tell me about your trip.”
She looked at me for a second and said:
“I don’t think you want to hear about my trip over breakfast.”
Then she grabbed her coffee back out of my hand and headed for the parking lot like that answered everything.
As we were getting in the vehicle, she got a phone call.
Sounded like she was already dealing with whatever job was coming next.
Got back to the house.
She dropped her luggage in the bedroom.
Came back out carrying something that she slammed down on the kitchen table.
It was Pennington’s journal.
We both stared at it for a second.
Then she looked up at me and said:
“I went to see Amara N’Kosi.”
Took me a second to process that.
Last I knew, she was still in South Africa.
“She immigrated to Arizona.”
Then she rubbed her eyes and said:
“I’m exhausted, JS. I need to lay down for a while.”
And just like that, she disappeared back into the bedroom and left me standing there alone in the kitchen with Pennington’s journal sitting on the table.
Sat there staring at Pennington’s journal for a long time after she went into the bedroom.
Felt like one of those moments where you either walk away clean or accept the fact you’re about to step into something you probably can’t come back from.
I already knew the answer.