Sisterchicks on the Loose (5 page)

Jeff was going to drive me to the Portland airport at five o’clock the next morning. I would kiss my sweet husband good-bye, board a plane to San Francisco, navigate my way through the airport, and somehow end up face-to-face with Penny in the international terminal. It would be the first time the two of us had seen each other in almost two years. Penny and I would board a plane together, and twelve hours and twenty-three minutes later, we would land in England. Another meandering through a huge airport and getting ourselves on another flight, and we would end up in Helsinki at two-fifteen in the afternoon, their time, on February 26.

My brain couldn’t imagine it all. I worked through the details a dozen times while curled up on my side of our warm bed. I tried to think what could go wrong and what I would do in each possible disaster scenario.

Jeff slept deeply.

The night-light in the hallway kept me company through the long darkness, and then the alarm went off.

I showered, dressed, and double-checked to make sure I
had my passport and the airline ticket in my shoulder bag. With quiet steps, I went to each of our three children, who were still in their beds.

I had called Tyler, our oldest, at his dorm room the night before to say good-bye. He said he was proud of me for being such a cool mom and getting out there to see the world.

Our youngest, Joshua, cried when I kissed him. But he said it was only the sleepers in his eyes and that he would be fine while I was gone.

Benjamin bumped my head with his cast when he tried to hug me. I assured him it didn’t hurt even though it did. It hurt something awful in the deepest part of my mothering heart.

Kaylee brushed my cheek with a kiss and reminded me about the list of items she wanted me to bring back for her. Her room smelled like fingernail polish and wild jasmine. I kissed her twice.

Then I tilted up my chin and walked down the stairs with my mouth open, as if I were about to sing the highest note I’d ever sung. I didn’t look back. I was going to do this.

Jeff hummed on the way to the airport. He said twice that he was going to miss me and followed that line with, “But I’m glad you’re going.” We kissed four times at the gate before my row was called and I boarded an airplane for the second time in my life.

I didn’t cry a single tear over the emotional upset of leaving my family until my seat belt was fastened and my tray table was in its upright and locked position. The seat beside me was empty, so I took the blanket and a pillow placed there. With my face to the window, I watched sheets of Oregon winter wetness smash against the tarmac. The plane backed away from the terminal. And then I cried.

By the time the airplane’s wheels touched down in San Francisco, I had no tears left. I’d successfully completed the second airplane ride of my life all by myself. I was ready and steady. In a few moments I would see Penny. My Penny. My generous, outgoing, crazy friend who had selected
me
as her travel companion. Tears were not on the agenda from here on out.

I stepped into the bustling terminal firmly gripping my shoulder bag while I scanned all the signs. I arrived in plenty of time and stood there, searching each face that passed, waiting for Penny. My anticipation rose and fell during those eternal fifteen minutes. I think it was the closest I’d ever come to a panic attack.

What if Penny doesn’t come? What if she’s waiting for me somewhere else? What if the plane leaves without me? What if this was all a bad joke? What if …?

I realized that for years I had reveled in the sparking wonder of Penny’s “what if” questions. The unknown elevated her. My “what if” questions were suffocating me with fear and pressing me deeper into myself.

At just the right moment, I looked up, and rushing toward me came the one face in all the world I longed to see. Penny’s!

With a bulging bag slung over each arm and tugging a wheeled suitcase behind, Penny came charging toward me in a straight line. Her smile was huge. Her cocoa brown hair bounced with carefully coiffured fullness while her reading glasses slid from their perch on top of her head. She wore wide-legged black pants, a fire engine red turtleneck sweater, and a sleek, black raincoat that flapped open with every long-legged stride she took. She looked as if she did this sort of thing every day.

Dark-eyed Penny, with her gold hoop earrings and her wonderfully wild, sparkling eyes, grabbed me and planted her signature greeting kiss on my right cheekbone.

“Look at you! You’re here! We’re here! Sharon, can you believe we’re doing this? You look great!”

“So do you!” I hugged her again.

“Your hair! I love your hair! You didn’t tell me it was down to your shoulders now. And the color is great! Not a hint of green anywhere,” she said with a wink. “It couldn’t have been as bad as you said. I love your coat. Is it new?”

“No, this is the one you talked me into buying at an after-Christmas sale about six years ago. I just never wear it.”

“It looks great! You look great! I can’t believe you’re here! Come on! We need to hurry. Our gate is this way.”

And we were off. Penny blazed ahead. I trotted to keep up. The galaxy had fallen back into its proper alignment.

“You would not believe the morning I’ve had!” Penny shouted over her shoulder. “I was running so late that I was afraid to check my baggage. I didn’t think they would get it on the plane in time. I’m so glad you checked your suitcase and only have one bag. Would you mind carrying on one of mine so they don’t tell me I have too many pieces?”

With the overhead bin story in mind, I opted for the smaller shoulder bag and let Penny keep her wheeled suitcase and the gym bag.

“How did you get everything in one suitcase?” Penny asked. “I kept thinking of more things to pack. I can see it already—I’m going to have to buy a bigger suitcase the first day there.”

We were in line to check in at the gate and receive our seat assignments when Penny caught her breath. She looked at me,
and I knew something was going on.

“What?” I asked her.

“What do you mean, ‘what’?”

“You’re about to spring another surprise on me.”

Penny looked crushed. “How did you know?”

“Your left eyebrow. It goes up whenever you’re about to reveal a secret.”

“Oh yeah. I forgot you were onto that.” She touched her left eyebrow. “You and Dave are the only two who tell me that.”

“So what’s the surprise?”

“I got us in business class,” Penny said. “That’s why I was running late. One of the guys at work offered me his flight upgrade coupons, but I had to go to his house this morning to pick them up.”

As if this whole trip weren’t luxurious enough, Penny and I were among the first group to board the wide-bodied aircraft and settle in with our extra legroom. I was by the window again with a pillow and a blanket. Penny adjusted herself in the aisle seat, and we kept on chattering as comfortably as if we were sitting at my kitchen table.

“I was up all night getting everything together.” Penny shook her head and reached for her reading glasses, as they were sliding down her forehead. “I can’t believe how unorganized I was at the last minute.” She fished in her large purse for her glasses case. “I suppose you were all set to go by eight o’clock and got a good night’s sleep.”

“Are you kidding? Not me. I was packed, but my brain wasn’t ready to shut off. I barely slept.”

“Did you leave notes for your kids?”

“No, I woke them up to say good-bye. Did you leave notes?”

Penny nodded. “I ended up writing long love letters to each of them and Dave, too. My plan was just to leave little one-liners on their pillows. Then I started to write Nicole’s first, thinking that would be the easiest. Was I wrong! What is it with our daughters? Did you feel this way when Kaylee was eleven? I feel as if every step from here on out needs to be guarded carefully. Do you know what I mean? It didn’t feel like that when Noah was eleven.”

“I know. Having only one daughter makes a difference, too, somehow.”

“Exactly!” Penny agreed. “It’s as if I have one shot at reinventing myself—and before you say anything, I know I’m not supposed to project all that on Nicole. She is not my second chance at a happy childhood. It’s just bizarre how much more intense my mothering instincts are with her. The boys are easy. But then, they have a great dad.”

I smiled because she was watching me, waiting for the smile. Dave loved his wife and kids intensely. Penny always wanted everyone to love Dave as much as she loved him.

One time, about five years ago, Penny told me she wondered what it would be like to sail through marriage the way I did with Jeff, rather than take every bump along the road as she had with Dave. She said Jeff amazed her because nothing fazed him. Whenever something disturbing, like Ben’s broken wrist and lost scholarship, would come into our lives, Jeff would burrow deep inside himself. He rarely reacted outwardly. His emotions seemed to churn and sift through a dozen filters. Then one morning he would wake up, and nothing would be left to filter. He would be back to his usual steady pace.

Dave, however, was all out in front. If he had an opinion
about something, he would share it. If you needed something, he would go out of his way to get it for you. If he was mad, he would articulate why and quickly forgive. If he loved you, you knew it. And you never doubted it.

The plane had taken off while we were in the midst of our discussion. Penny opened her mouth wide and rubbed behind her left ear. I felt compelled to do the same, even though my ears weren’t popping.

Penny continued to talk about the love notes she had worked on all night. She described how surprised she felt over her last-minute reluctance to leave her family. “I didn’t expect to feel this way. And you know what, Sharon? I have to apologize for a couple of things. First, I want to apologize for being so cold when you were going through the trauma with Ben. I didn’t understand. I think I do now. Sorry I wasn’t more sympathetic.”

“It’s okay. I needed to hear what you said. You were right. I’m glad I didn’t back out of the trip.”

“Really?” Penny’s left eyebrow went up.

“Yes, really. Why do you ask? What’s the surprise?”

“Is my eyebrow up?”

“Yes.”

“Rats! I’m going to have to work on that. I do have another little surprise, and I think you’re going to need to read all my facial quirks when I tell you this.”

I looked hard at her. I’d forgotten how intense Penny’s gaze could be. She had a way of seeing into people as if she were shining a light so the person could search for something lost along the way. I don’t know why I let her do that to me. I could turn away and listen sufficiently without looking. But I didn’t. I allowed her dark eyes to shine their amber-flecked light on me
because Penny knew things. She saw things way before I did. Right now she was looking for something. Apparently I had it.

“This is the other thing I was going to apologize to you about. We don’t exactly have everything lined up in Finland. Which I think is fine because all our options are open. But I didn’t want you to feel …,” Penny searched for the right word, “… uncomfortable.”

“That’s okay. What needs to be worked on? I have the tour book. We could do some planning now.”

“Yes,” Penny said slowly.

“What about your aunt? Did she give you any specifics in her letter about things to do?”

Penny’s finger went up to her lips. “No. You see, I never heard back from my aunt. And before you say anything, Sharon, it’s not that big a deal. We have plenty of money. We can stay at any hotel we want the whole time, if we need to. I wasn’t necessarily planning to stay at my aunt’s house. I just wanted to meet her. But I don’t even know if she’s still alive. It’s not that important, though. We can try to track her down once we arrive. But if we don’t find her, we’ll just have fun exploring.”

I didn’t say anything right away. I’m certain both my eyebrows were down. Penny was watching me carefully.

“So, you’re telling me that we got on this plane and we’re flying halfway across the world, but when we arrive, we don’t have any idea what we’ll do.”

“Yes and no. We’ll take a taxi and find a hotel. Or rent a car. And we’ll find a restaurant and have some dinner. Or lunch, or whatever mealtime it will be then. And,” she added on an upbeat note, “we’ll pray and see what God puts in our path.”

I wanted to scold her. I wanted to say, “Penny, people like us don’t just show up in big foreign cities in the middle of winter and start looking up names of reputable hotels in a phone book!”

Before I could speak, Penny said, “I know I should have said something earlier, but I kept thinking I’d hear from my aunt at the last minute. I brought all the information I have about her with me. We’ll take each step, each day as it comes. Like I said, we’ve got plenty of money.” Penny’s eyes were ablaze with dancing sprinkles of hope. “Whatever happens, I know it will be an adventure.”

I reminded myself that “adventure” had been Penny’s objective all along, even in the church nursery so long ago. And I had told Jeff I didn’t want old age to be the only risky trip I ever took. This was it.

Risky. Adventuresome. Ridiculous.

At this moment, the appropriate adjective didn’t matter because when a person is thirty thousand feet in the air, seat belted in business class, she is, for all practical purposes, committed. Two months ago I never would have dreamed up any of this. Two days ago I was still trying to work up the courage to board that plane in Portland by myself. Two minutes ago, however, Penny’s left eyebrow went up, and secretly I wanted it to. I wanted Penny to surprise me and make me uncomfortable.

“What do you say, Sharon?” Penny looked at me hard. “Are you okay with this? I know you like life to be organized, but the thing is, now we’ll be completely at God’s mercy, and nothing is more adventuresome than that!”

With a deep breath, I gave my dearest friend the gift she had always so freely given me, the gift she was looking for
when she looked so deeply into my eyes. I gave her grace. “Sure. I’m fine with this. We’ll figure it out as we go along.”

“Perfect! I was hoping you wouldn’t be mad. This is going to be great; you’ll see. We’re going to have the kind of trip they never write about in the tour books.”