Chapter 10

CHAPTER TEN

MADELINE

Taking her seat on the plane, Madeline couldn't help but watch the men and women getting on the plane with a slight paranoia. What if they followed her here? What if they saw her getting on the plane and followed her? She barely breathed until the cabin door to the airplane was finally closed, and they were backing away from the gates.

That is when it hit her.

Panicked fear, worry, and an overabundant appreciation for what Noah had done for her slammed into her being all at once. "Oh gosh…" she whimpered, looking around and fanning her hand at a woman who was plucking a few tissues from a Kleenex package she'd carried in her purse. The woman handed her the entire package, looking at her warily at the same time she reached above her head to push the panic button.

No, nothing was wrong with Madeline – except relief and gratitude. Waving off the flight attendant who came to check on her, she turned to look out the window of the plane as they started to climb. She was leaving Egypt behind and her life there, and then she saw the massive ships docked at the port just before the entire world turned blue beneath them.

Was Noah already there, aboard the carrier?

Closing her eyes, she allowed her mind to drift. Flashes of moments bombarded her, things she never imagined would mean a lot – suddenly did. The way he seemed to puff up his chest when she asked for help, pushing her behind him, and the way he curled his lip upward on one side to smile when he was amused.

And her breath caught at the other moments that slammed forward, ones no matter how she fought them, that they made her chest flutter. The way he'd kissed her fiercely in the pyramid when they were scared, the tenderness he'd displayed rubbing his cheek against her skin before kissing her stomach, and the way he looked at her before she got out of the taxi, kissing her once more.

That was not their celebratory kiss.

It had been a tender kiss goodbye, and she knew it. Noah was saying goodbye because it would be a long time before she ever saw him again. He said they were friends, putting a distance between them for a reason, and now she knew why.

She was headed back to the States.

He was headed elsewhere.

This could never work, which is why he'd kept commenting about friendship, offering to find a way to ‘make it work' eventually because they could only be friends. He didn't have it in him to make a relationship work because he was always going to be leaving. Closing her eyes, she didn't bother to hide her thoughts, her fears, indulging in those memories until she nodded off to sleep, exhausted.

Hours later, someone was shaking Madeline's shoulder. She started in a panic before calming as she looked around. She was on an airplane, safe, and not trapped within the pyramid once again with Noah. Just thinking his name caused her stomach to tighten with a pang of loss.

"We're landing, miss. If you'll put your seat up, please…"

It was hard to believe she was already landing in Memphis, Tennessee, but as she looked out the window, spotting a few fast-food restaurants with signs in English – she knew she was back home. The plane touched down and taxied forward, and before long, she was standing up in the middle aisle of the plane along with thirty other people all slowly getting their bags and trudging forward amidst a bunch of strangers.

How was Noah's mother even going to find her or identify who she was supposed to pick up? He'd told her to look for the woman wearing the Navy Mom shirt and…

"Oh my stars," Madeline breathed – and couldn't help the small, nervous laugh that escaped her as she spotted a woman who couldn't be anyone else but Noah's mother.

A woman was standing there with bright white hair, curled and set, and big sparkly earrings that looked like American flags. She was wearing a sequined shirt that said ‘Navy Mom' all right – and the sequins were also patriotic - in vibrant reds, whites, and blues. His mother was carrying a posterboard that said boldly, ‘ Meeting Mrs. Bennington ' with a bright smiley face in the corner like a child's drawing of the sun. This woman was bright, cheery, and obviously happy to see her – which immediately made her think of Noah's smile again.

"Mrs. Bennington?" Madeline began tentatively – only to have the woman lock eyes on her, exclaim something, and fling her arms around her in a hug.

"Well, hello to you too, Mrs. Bennington!" his mother exclaimed happily. "Why, child, you are much too skinny! Have you eaten something yet? You look plumb tuckered out and in need of a bed. Let's get you fed, and then we can chat in the morning over a nice cuppa joe. Doesn't that sound good?"

"I'm sorry you had to pick me up so late," Madeline began kindly and glanced at clock nearby on the wall. It was nearly eleven at night, and she'd lost a full day.

"C'mon, Madison…"

"Madeline," she corrected nervously. "I'm sorry. I didn't catch your name because we were in such a rush…"

"Judy – and don't you worry, Madeline. I do want all the details, but that's only to fill in the blanks that my boy left. When you have children, you learn to read between the lines sometimes and interpret what isn't said."

"You heard from Noah… about me?"

"That's the ‘isn't said' portion that I want to know more about. He sent an email I got about three hours ago," Judy smiled before dragging her toward baggage claim. "Noah specifically said to inform you, ‘ good job, nurse - there's no infection ' and that he has five stitches. Why does my son have five stitches?"

Spotting her single suitcase, Madeline plucked it from the conveyor and sighed heavily. Looking at the other woman, she saw Judy's arched brow that reminded her so much of Noah it was uncanny.

"It's a very long story."

"The best ones are – and we've got a forty-minute ride home. Do you like Jack-in-the-Box tacos? Let me tell you, fried tacos are always a win in my book, and I could use a little something despite the hour. How does that sound? And we can talk."

Madeline followed the woman, almost unsure where to begin.

An hour later, despite sleeping on the plane, Madeline was lying in a twin-sized bed in a room that was obviously Noah's when he was a boy. There were ribbons and photos pinned onto bulletin boards, a baseball bat propped in the corner with a brown mitt atop it, as well as a photograph of him aboard ship, standing beside a plane.

He mentioned he was in the Navy but never said what he did there. Looking around the room, it wasn't hard to discern he loved airplanes. There were several plastic models assembled and painted around the room, as well as posters. A pair of silver wings lay on top of the dresser beside a tiny wooden box that held a class ring, a tiny clay pot that looked like a child had made it, a baby tooth, and several Susan B. Anthony coins. The man was obviously modest when it came to talking about himself, which made her curious to know more about him.

Judy seemed to be a fount of information and promised to talk more tomorrow, encouraging her to get some sleep. Yet, Madeline just lay there – thinking .

She barely knew the man she'd married and wondered if Noah was thinking the same thing now that everything wasn't a life-or-death situation. It felt weird to write him – and stranger still to think that they were kind-of married.

Noah,

I've landed, and your mother picked me up from the airport. We just got to her home and I'm glad to hear there was no infection. Five stitches, huh? I'll admit I'm not a good judge of injuries, but I was afraid there would be more. I'm glad it was only five. I bet you are glad things are back to normal now, and I hope that I can say the same thing soon.

Madeline