“I’ll text it to you,” Mr. Fisher tells me. “She’ll love that, but if you’re trying to sneak up and scare her, know she has a fancy alarm system.”
“Noted.” It makes more sense why Chloe thought sneaking up to her dad’s house was a good idea. They seem to enjoy pranking each other, and I’m here for it. “Have you spoken to her recently?”
“I haven’t, but don’t worry, I won’t spoil the surprise if I do.”
“Thanks. I’ll, um, suggest she give you a call.”
“I’d like that. Have a safe flight, Sam. Take care.”
I log onto the airport’s website as soon as I’m back home, and search for flights. I don’t care what airline I take or if I have to land halfway and switch planes. Anything to get to Chloe and tell her in person. My heart is hammering in my chest as I scroll through the flights, annoyed that most of them have long layovers. There’s one nonstop flight leaving today and it only has two seats left.
I don’t even bother to look at the price of the ticket. I’ll pay whatever it takes to get to Chloe.
The website loads at turtle speed, and I tap my fingers on the counter, worried someone else came in and snatched up the tickets. Finally, the page loads and I purchase a ticket. A bit of tension leaves my chest, and I cannot wait to see Chloe.
I have several hours until my flight, which is more than enough time to get some shit thrown in a bag and figure out what to do about work tonight. I haven’t taken a sick day in over two years. Normally, I’d never lie like this, but fuck it.
Anything to get to Chloe.
Time moves so fucking slow, and it feels like a full day passes before it’s time to go to the airport. I get through security and still have an hour and a half until my flight. I get something to eat and pull out my phone and call my brother.
“Hello?” Jacob answers.
“Hey. Stacey lied,” I rush out. “It’s not mine.”
“Fuck yes! You have to be so relieved.”
“You have no idea.”
“Did you ever tell Chloe?” he asks.
“Yeah, last night. She had to go to LA for work, so I’m flying out now to tell the good news in person.”
“That’ll be a happy reunion.” Dogs bark in the background. “I gotta chop off some balls. Enjoy tonight.”
I remember I never texted Archer back after I end the call, as he and Jacob were the only ones who knew.
Me: It’s not my kid. She’s only 9 weeks and fucking lied.
It takes a few minutes for Archer to reply back, and I’m walking back to my gate when he does. I find a seat and drop my bag next to it.
Archer: Holy shit.
Me: Yeah. I don’t know how she thought she’d explain it when the kid is born a full month after what the due date should have been.
Archer: …and Chloe?
Me: She’s in LA. I’m at the airport now to fly out to tell her in person.
Archer: So you can celebrate with sex, of course.
Me: Of course.
Archer: Use protection this time.
Me: Hah.
Archer: One of our anesthesiologists is retiring. We’ll be looking to hire soon, and it’s been a while since I got to ask you if the patient is paralyzed.
I reply with an eye rolling emoji.
Archer: We really will be looking to hire. You’d like it here.
It wasn’t that long ago that Archer wanted to continue his schooling and be a trauma surgeon, but didn’t because it took too much time away from his family.
Me: And work with my sister?
Archer: She’s my best nurse and she hasn’t heard about the position opening, so be prepared for her to plan your life here.
I’m in a good enough mood now that I know Stacey isn’t carrying my child and things will go back to how they were with Chloe that the thought of Rory setting up a hypothetical life for me—and Chloe—in Eastwood makes me smile.
Me: I’ll consider it.
I’m called to board not long after that, and I stare out the window, watching the landscape pass by the entire flight. I brought a book but am too distracted to read. I’ve never landed at LAX before, and I feel like I’m wandering blindly about trying to find where I need to go to get an Uber to take me to Chloe’s house.
The sun is just now starting to set, and the two-hour time difference is throwing me a bit. It felt like a week passed since Chloe left last night, and each second that ticks by without hearing from her makes time go by slower and slower, and I fear she’s slipping away.
Finally, I get an Uber and have quite a way to go from the airport to Chloe’s house. I anxiously look out the window, heart hammering in my chest the whole way. Chloe still hasn't responded to my text, and I’m trying not to think too far into it.