9. Remi

"An average cumulous (fluffy white) cloud weighs one million pounds." ~ Tim Rhodes

I woketo the familiar sound of my phone buzzing on the nightstand. It took every ounce of strength to pry my heavy lids open. My first cognitive thought was that I must have had too much to drink the night before. Once my eyes were open, it took me a second to orient myself to my surroundings. Through my bleary-sighted lens, I slowly came to the realization that I was in a hotel room. After getting my bearings, the memory of why I was in the hotel room and what had happened in the hotel room came crashing down on top of me. I wasn't intoxicated from alcohol; I'd gotten drunk off Ana. This was an Ana hangover.

That surge of information had me sitting straight up as my heart rate shot up as if I'd just been injected with a full vile of adrenaline. My eyes scanned the room as I stood and walked to the bathroom. Both were empty. As I processed that information, I noticed that the pink and purple mermaid-scale suitcase was also gone.

She was gone.

I stood staring at the spot where her luggage had been.

She was really gone.

And I didn't even know her name.

"Fuck." I ran my hands through my hair in frustration.

My plan had been to find out things like her name, her phone number, where she lived, if she wanted children, if she would marry me—you know, the basics, this morning. I hadn't wanted to do anything to ruin the night before. I'd just wanted to float in the bubble of magic and mystery, and if I'd asked any of those things, it would have popped it.

When my phone buzzed again, I walked over and picked it up. It was a message from the airline with my flight information. I checked the time and saw that it was going to start boarding in twenty minutes.

"Shit." The drive to the airport took ten minutes, and then I had to get through security.

I ordered an Uber, grabbed my bag, and took a quick, one-minute shower. I got out, dried off, brushed my teeth, threw on some clothes, and checked out via the television. I made it downstairs right as my car was pulling up.

As I stepped outside, I noticed the sun was shining; the sky was clear blue and dotted with fluffy white clouds. The pavement was dry, and the air was fresh and clean. There was not a single trace of the storm that had blown through hours before. It made the entire night seem even more surreal.

On the ride to the airport, all I could think about was how to find Ana. The only story I knew from her life that might have a digital footprint was the car accident she'd been in with her dad that she'd survived. But I didn't know the year. I didn't know the state it was in. I had no other information.

Trying a different route, I began to scroll through Instagram. I rarely ever went on social media, but I'd never had someone I wanted to find before. I wasn't sure why I thought that app would help me. It's not like I had anything to go on that would help me identify the mysterious Ana.

As I scrolled, I saw that Misty had posted a photo of her ultrasound on her Finsta account. Because she was a model, she had a public account and then a ‘fake Instagram' that only her family and closest friends were on.

I stared at the image, and my first instinct was to ‘like' the photo, but I wasn't sure what the protocol was for what we were going through. Questions and doubts began to infiltrate my mind.

Should I unfollow Misty?

Should I be more upset that she was having another man's baby?

Should I be thinking about her instead of Ana?

I considered that maybe the reason I was so focused on ‘Ana' was because I was trying to distract myself from Misty. But I quickly dismissed that theory. I'd had a strong reaction to her before Misty had dropped her nuclear bomb on me—so strong that I'd decided to remove myself from the situation to avoid temptation. I was glad now that my plan had been foiled by Ana nearly knocking her drink over.

This was more than a rebound. Something that I couldn't articulate, couldn't understand, and could barely believe had transpired between us the night before. From the moment I saw her, it was like I knew her. There was an instant connection—an instant recognition that was undeniable, at least on my end.

I may not know her name, but I knew the way her lips felt against mine. I knew the way her body shook when she came apart. I knew the tiny gasp she made when I entered her.

My jeans began to feel tight as memories filled my head. I adjusted myself as we pulled up to departures. I got out and grabbed my duffle bag. The airport was busy, but not quite as crowded as it had been the day before. I got checked into my flight and headed to my gate.

As I walked down the corridors, I scanned the crowds using mental face-recognition software. I knew the chances of seeing Ana again were slim, but I just had this feeling that I would. That somehow our paths would cross.

When I reached my gate, I still hadn't seen her, and I couldn't help but feel defeated. Panic began to rise. I was afraid that I would leave this place and never see her again. Then I saw on the screen that my flight was delayed. I had another thirty minutes before boarding. I was still in the game.

I'd never really given much credence to fate or destiny. I'd always believed that there was no such thing as luck or karma. You get out of life what you put into it. Sure, things happened that were out of your control. Some were good, some were bad. But none of it was specific to you. It was just random.

But last night, with Ana, had me rethinking my stance. If meeting her wasn't fate or destiny, if it wasn't luck and kismet, then I didn't know what the hell it was.

I was scanning the people seated, waiting for their planes, when I saw a familiar face. It wasn't Ana, but this was the next best thing.

"Hi." I smiled as I walked over and sat down next to Ruth.

"Hello there, Remington. I see you survived the storm."

"Yes ma'am. How is your granddaughter?"

"Good, and so is my great-granddaughter." Her face beaming with pride.

"And now you're headed back home?"

"Yes, I'm going back to my husband. My Chester." Her beaming only got brighter at the mention of her husband's name.

"And you, are you headed home?"

I started to say no. Wishing Well hadn't been my home since I was eighteen. But it has still always felt like home.

"Yep," I responded.

"And where is home?" she asked as she turned her attention back to her knitting.

"Wishing Well, it's a little town in Texas."

"Oh, I've heard of it."

"You have?"

"My most favorite actress from my shows moved there."

"She did?"

Ruth nodded. "I saw it on her Instagram."

Wishing Well was a small town. I wondered if I knew her or had heard of her. I talked to my mom once a week or so, and I kept in touch with a few other people in town. "What's her name?"

"Sasha Nelson."

"Sasha…" It took me a second, but then I remembered getting the wedding invitation. I hadn't been able to make it because it was during fire season. "She married Beau Briggs."

Ruth brightened. "That's right. Beau Briggs, do you know him?"

"I do. His older brother is one of my best friends."

Wyatt Briggs, Kane, and I had been inseparable growing up. We'd been part Three Musketeers, part Three Amigos. Wyatt's wedding was another nuptial I missed just this last summer.

"Well, I hope he treats her right. She's a sweetheart who got done very dirty. Her ex was cheating on her with her best friend."

I wondered if that was just on the soap opera, or if it had happened in real life.

"Beau Briggs—actually, all the Briggs are stand-up men. I promise you; he is definitely treating her right." If not, he would have seven brothers, a younger sister, and his mom and dad to deal with. I didn't know about him, but I would be more scared of his mom, Dolly Briggs, than of his dad Walker, even though he was a mountain of a man. She could intimidate Genghis Khan.

"Good, glad to hear it." Her phone buzzed, and she took it out. "Oh, it's my Chester; just makin' sure I don't forget to take my pills before my flight. I get a little woozy on planes."

"How long have you and Chester been married?"

"Sixty-eight years."

"Wow." I hadn't even managed to make it down the aisle. "Can I ask you something?"

A knowing look filled her clear blue eyes. "How did I know he was the one?"

"Yes, and how did you know I was going to ask?—"

"It was either that or what's the secret, but the answer is the same, and when you've been around as long as I have, you can spot it from miles away."

"Spot what?"

"The floating."

"The floating?" I repeated, wondering if I'd misheard her.

"Yep. The floating," she said as she reached up and touched her necklace.

I'd noticed her necklace the day before, but now I took a closer look. "Is that a cloud?"

"It is. It's a puffy mother-of-pearl cloud. My Chester gave it to me on our first wedding anniversary and told me it was because whenever he's with me, he's floating on cloud nine. He still tells me all the time, it doesn't matter what we're doing—grocery shopping, doctor visit, DMV—if he's with me, he's happy. That's how you know you found the one, and that's the secret, when you'd happily go stand at the DMV, if it meant that you could be together. That's cloud nine love."

An announcement came over the speaker, and Ruth patted my hand. "That's me. Well, it was nice seeing you again, Remington."

"You, too."

She stood, and I did too. "Do you need some help?"

"Oh, no, I'm just going right there." She pointed across the walkway. Before she headed that way, she touched my arm. "If you're lucky enough to find your cloud nine, don't be afraid of a little rain. There will be lots of storms, but ya just weather them together."

As she walked away, I felt like she was one of those characters in a rom-com movie that come into the lives of the main characters to impart wisdom and give them signs that they belong together. She'd said that I should weather the storms. Last night had been a storm. Was that a sign that Ana was my cloud nine?

No, I shook my head. I was being fucking ridiculous. This was my real life. Ruth was just a kind woman who I'd met and then run into again. That was all. A real sign would be if I ran into Ana again. Then I wouldn't have a choice but to believe in fate, in destiny, in luck, in karma. Hell, if I ran into her again, I'd drop down on one knee and propose. But I was pretty sure there was a better chance of pigs sprouting wings and an ice-skating rink in hell than that happening.