The Bachelor Party Reunion

Chapter 1: Nerves at 30,000 Feet

“Thanks, I’ll have another.” I said to the flight steward as the turbulence threatened to upend my poor breakfast that seemed unwilling to digest itself despite the fact I had eaten it over an hour ago.

“Nervous flyer?” he said, as he accepted the empty cup and sodden napkin I had passed to him.

“Something like that.”

He leaned in and whispered, “I’ll come back with a little something stronger in a few minutes.”

We locked eyes and he gave me a wink that told me everything would be okay, and I really wanted to believe him.

I watched him retreating back in his slim uniform, remembering what it was like to have a body so young and beautiful, with sun-kissed skin, sculpted muscles and hair that was full of shine and volume.

Surreptitiously, I ran my hand over my abdomen, noting the prominent bulge that had grown there over the last few years.

Just then, the plane gave a sudden lurch, and I felt my breakfast make a violent attempt at escape. A fresh sheen of sweat broke out all over my body as I swallowed hard, keeping it just where it was.

‘My god, how much longer is this fucking flight?!’ I thought to myself as I felt my body jiggle and sway as we hit another pocket of turbulent air. I gripped the armrests and looked over to the inner aisle. I scowled as my next-door neighbor snored loudly and stifled a rich belch as he continued to slumber on, completely oblivious to the raucousness going on around him. Fucker, must be nice.

I turned my gaze instead to the window which had been my seat and flicked up the little privacy flap. A brilliant blue sky with fluffy blue clouds mocked me in their beauty. Was I overreacting? Was the turbulence really that bad? Or was I just nervous about my reason for being on the plane?

I closed my eyes and wiped my forehead with the back of my hand and regripped the arm rests. Then, a mantra suddenly popped into my head, and I clung to it like a life raft.

‘It is going to be okay. You are fine.’

I repeated the words in my head over a dozen times and, was it my imagination, or was the plane suddenly cruising through smoother air?

I sighed and opened my eyes one at a time. Yes, the turbulence was leveling off. For the first time, I smiled. It felt good to smile. I turned my head towards the window once again and focused on the clouds as our plane continued its way from Middle America across the continental United States on its way to Logan Airport in Boston, Massachusetts.

As our plane banked slightly, I caught my own reflection in the window and saw the ghost of a handsome, rounded face with bale blue eyes and ash blonde hair that was currently hidden under a faded baseball cap. The reflection tried to smile back as I searched the face that was a little softer, a little more lined than it had been the last time it had been in Beantown.

The weather would be warm, despite it being early Fall in the Northeast, and I was on a pilgrimage to visit my old college stomping grounds. One of my old fraternity brothers, Victor, whom I had shared so many experiences with, was getting married. He had set up a bachelor party of sorts for himself as well as his four closest friends.

I closed my eyes as I remembered the last time I had seen Victor in the flesh. Tall, slim, and olive skinned with an athletic volleyball player’s build and a winning smile. He was the kind of person who would give you a kick in the pants when you needed one as well as a shoulder to lean on and a shot of whiskey to down, when life made you a shit sandwich. And man, could he make you laugh when he wanted to. I was not surprised in the least that he was the first of us to be getting hitched.

I smiled as I remembered the other guys, my fraternity brothers, whom I would be sharing this upcoming long weekend.

There was Leo, the biomed major, our fiery redhead, short and freckled; and token born-and-bread ‘Masshole. It was he who I would be meeting at the airport to be picked up and the one who I had gotten along with the best during our years at U Mass.

Then there was Sarhan, the math major, stereotypically middle eastern; funny, always with a perfect haircut and living in amazing high-end fashion clothing. He was as smart as a whip and I had recently learned (thanks, Facebook) he had just been promoted to head of mathematics at Harvard where he now taught.

Me, of course. The one with an undeclared major who was now working as a glorified manager in a social work facility. Single, save for my pet cat, Roger.

Then. Then there was Darcy, Darce.

I bit my lip and licked my lips when suddenly, a voice from overhead caught my attention.

“Sir?”

It was my youthful flight steward. In his hand was a freshly poured Gin and Tonic, no ice. I accepted the drink as he reached over the inert form of my fellow passenger. I caught a whiff of stale sweat that I knew to be me and hurriedly took the drink and sat it down on my tray. I noticed the flight steward inhaled reflexively, and close his eyes slowly. I reddened but said nothing. I waited for him to open his eyes and when he did, they seemed warmer, kinder.

“I’m sorry to be forward, but might I ask what cologne you’re wearing. I…like it.” he said.
I blushed this time, fully red in the cheeks.

“Uh…Eros by Versace.”

The flight steward smiled and closed his eyes once more, again, sniffing the air. “I’ll have to pick up a bottle next time I’m at the mall. I like it a lot.”

He opened his eyes and smiled.

Was he…flirting with me?

I licked my lips and took a drink to cover my nervousness, ‘God, why was it always like this? Why was I always awkward during moments like these?’

My eyes flicked towards the flight steward who was still holding my gaze. My eyes absorbed his honeyed brown ones, before tracing my gaze down along his aquiline nose to where a perfect cupids bow of a mouth sat, slightly open. His tongue was gently placed between his teeth.

“What? Sorry. I mean yes, you’ll love the scent.” I said aloud as our eyes met.

The flight steward motioned with his eyes to my drink, “well, enjoy your drink, it’s extra strong and on the house. We’ll be landing soon. Nice to meet you. Bye now, and thanks for flying Delta.” He waived a hand and went down the aisle to help the next passenger.

‘Stupid, stupid, stupid!’ I chided myself as I watched his retreating back.

I looked down at the drink in front of me and took a proper pull. ‘Dang, he was right,’ I thought as the potency of the alcohol collided with my tastebuds.

The flight steward did not return while I nursed my drink, thinking of the weekend to come. I felt the reliable hum of the engine change pitch, and felt the plane begin to slow. I turned my head to the window and was pleasantly surprised to see the sky blue begin to be replaced with rural streets and fields, rows of trees with their just-changing leaves, buildings and a city of cars.

“This is your captain speaking. We have begun our descent to Logan Airport. Thank you for flying Delta. Welcome to Boston.”

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