I grabbed a stack of plastic garbage bags and began straightening up the first class cabin, checking overhead bins, under seat stowaways, seatback pockets, and whatever else I could find to stall time. After having completed only two rows, I felt a hand touching me on the shoulder. It was Pilot Watts.

“Montana, tomorrow’s Thanksgiving. Go.”

“But—”

“Go. They’ll get to it tomorrow. It’s the last flight for this plane tonight anyway. Go enjoy your Thanksgiving.” I made a few more insistent responses but he stared me down and ushered me off of the plane.

Grabbing my overstuffed rolling bag, I exited the gate and made a beeline to the ladies room for a moment of prayer. Even though I was anticipating an evening of hot buttered sex on a platter, I still wanted to pray. Finally finding an empty stall, I paused for a moment of reverence. “Lord…right now I’m just asking for two things: one, that you bless the end. Two, that you forgive me for the means I intend on using to get there. Amen, Amen. Amen, Amen.”

Leaving the stall, I stopped for a quick mirror check and took a deep breath. I popped in a mint and took another deep breath. Squirt, one, two, three of the perfume and one more deep breath. Out of breath and excuses, I was off.

Like a princess headed for her coronation, I was off. My head held high and eyes opened wide, my heart beating, pulsating, beating, until like the green-furred, love-emblazoned heart of the Grinch, it too had grown ten times its original size. But no. This is all too good to be true. Surely I would faint at the first sight of Graham, bounce my head on the ground, and spend the weekend unconscious in the emergency room. Or he would be at the wrong baggage terminal, wrong gate, wrong airport, or wrong state. Something has to go wrong. Nothing could go right. Nothing right. Something wrong.

I played these words through my mind over and over, until I succeeded in numbing my expectations. Like the Jedi mind game, I had reversed my thoughts from love and commitment to pain and remorse. Nothing right. Something wrong. Once again I was at peace. The peace of not expecting things to be right, thereby avoiding being crushed when they ultimately went wrong. Nothing right. Something wrong. Like a Buddhist chant, those words rang over and over in my mind.