LITMIR.BIZ

       chapter seven

      Callie planned to work on not feeling terrified just as soon as she stopped shaking. She supposed she should give herself a break—so much had happened so fast. Monday she’d been approached by a lawyer about her late father and some mystery family that wanted to meet her. Wednesday she’d heard from Shari on the results of the DNA test. They’d met and Callie had gotten a plane ticket to Seattle. Here it was Friday morning and she was on her way to a city she’d never been to so she could meet a family she knew nothing about.

      Shari had been great—taking plenty of time to talk through the details. The family wanted Callie to relocate to Seattle. Callie hadn’t known what to do, but in the end she’d decided to quit both her jobs and pack up her meager belongings and fly west.

      Disrupting her life had been uncomfortably simple. Janice had been sad but understanding. At her cleaning job, her supervisor had barely said anything beyond “Good luck.” Callie rented her room furnished, so she didn’t have to worry about getting rid of anything big and she paid month to month, so there wasn’t even a lease. A quick trip to the local thrift store had produced a second battered suitcase. In a matter of an hour, she’d uprooted her life.

      Now at the airport gate, she tried to look as if she knew what she was doing. She’d never flown before. Until a couple of years ago, she’d never been outside Oklahoma. She’d ridden the bus to Houston and hadn’t ever taken a vacation anywhere. It wasn’t as if being in prison came with field trips. She was so unprepared, she thought, wondering if it was too late to bolt.

      The morning had started with a town car arriving to take her to the airport. Shari had said everything was paid for but had suggested Callie might want to tip the drivers on each end. She had no idea how much, so had handed the older guy ten dollars. She wasn’t supposed to tip anyone on the plane, was she? She’d read a couple of articles online and none of them had mentioned that.

      The gate agent started the boarding process. Callie checked the seat number on her boarding pass again. It hadn’t changed. She was in seat 3A. According to what she’d found out from her research, that could mean she was in first class. But how was that possible? Who would be ridiculous enough to pay extra to get her to Seattle? She would arrive at exactly the same time flying in the back of the plane. Still, when the agent said first class was boarding, Callie slowly walked up and handed over her boarding pass.

      “Welcome aboard, Ms. Smith,” the young woman said with a smile. “Have a great flight.”

      Callie nodded without speaking and started down the long, sloping hallway. As she got closer to the plane, her shaking increased. She couldn’t do this, she thought frantically. She could not get on that flying coffin. They were all going to die.

      At least then you won’t have to deal with meeting your family.

      The voice and the words came so unexpectedly, she laughed out loud. Her tension eased and she stepped onto the plane.

      She figured out the numbering system and found her seat, then watched everyone else get on board. Her seatmate was a well-dressed, middle-aged woman who gave her an absent smile before pulling out a stack of fashion and gossip magazines and starting to read. Callie tried not to notice how threadbare her long-sleeved T-shirt looked next to the other woman’s expensive knit jacket. The woman’s wedding band was a row of diamonds and the center stone on her engagement ring was huge.

      Once the plane was loaded, the flight attendants started the safety announcements. Callie checked her seat belt about sixteen times, then listened to every word of the safety demonstration. Before she was ready, the plane was racing toward certain death only to unexpectedly take off into the air.

      She gripped both armrests, digging in her fingers until her knuckles went white, but the plane didn’t plummet. Instead it went higher and higher, causing her ears to pop a little and the earth to seem to fall away.

      “What can I get you two ladies to drink?”

      Callie turned and saw the flight attendant standing by their row. The woman next to her ordered a glass of white wine. Callie asked for water.

      “We’ll be serving lunch today. A chicken pasta salad. Would either of you like to join us?”

      The other woman nodded. Callie said she would like lunch, then wondered if she had to pay for it. All the articles she’d read had sworn first class tickets got a free meal, but she wasn’t sure. Still, she’d taken a hundred dollars out of the bank, so she had cash with her, and her ATM card. She didn’t own a credit card. They’d always seemed too risky.

      The flight attendant returned with their drinks. A few minutes later, the captain came on the loudspeaker and gave them the details of the flight. Callie couldn’t believe they would get from Houston to Seattle in only four and a half hours. It took almost that long just to drive to Dallas!

      The woman next to her finished her InStyle magazine and offered it to Callie. “If you haven’t read this one...”

      Callie looked from the magazine to her, then smiled. “Thank you. That’s very nice of you.”

      She smoothed the front of the cover, trying to remember the last time she’d read a new magazine. In prison she’d spent her free time reading books and studying for her GED. Her conviction had interrupted her senior year. Once she was out, she hadn’t had the extra money for something so frivolous. Now she leaned back in her seat and opened the magazine to the first page. It was an ad for hair color. She studied the glossy photograph, read all the text, and wondered if she would ever get to feel normal again and take things like magazines for granted.

      * * *

      Four hours and forty-two minutes after they had pushed back from the gate in Houston, their plane arrived in Seattle. Callie pulled her backpack from under the seat in front of her and waited to walk out into a scary and unknown future. In that brief moment as she stepped onto the Jetway, she felt the cool damp air and shivered slightly. Her light jacket was nowhere warm enough for whatever the temperature was outside.

      She followed the signs to baggage claim and took a steep escalator down two floors. As she stepped off, she saw several men in suits holding paper signs or iPads with names on them. Shari had told her car service would be provided in Seattle, so Callie looked at several of them before spotting one that said C. Smith.

      She walked over to the driver. “I’m Callie Smith.”

      The

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