You know how in Twilight, Alice has visions of people’s future in her head, and when she can’t see it, it’s because they are dead or something?
That is how I like to pretend my brain works.
In my mind, I am psychic, so I feel like if I don’t envision something happening, it’s because it doesn’t.
Which means that when I couldn’t mentally visualize meeting Andy at the airport, it’s because he died in a fiery plane crash on the way home from Korea.
Which was horrifying, because I’d make for a horrible single mom, and an even worse widow.
I’m not good alone, I was never a serial dater, and preferred long term relationships. Not to mention, I can’t be trusted with three small children on my own.
Things happen that we can’t talk about. Like when you are driving home from college to do laundry and it’s pouring and dark, and you go over a bridge with a sign that says “Prison Area Do Not Pick Up Hitchhikers,” and then you look down to put in a Verve Pipe CD and all of a sudden you drive over something that feels like a human body.
Because Andy was gone for two weeks, I decided it was the perfect time to plan a surprise for him. Not that he ever surprises me, but I recently lost the box of ashes from his cremated childhood cat, so I felt like maybe this would make up for it a little bit.
As I mentioned before, he started his own business building flying robots, and as a result, his shit is everywhere. Screws, metal parts, wires, remote controls, propellers. It’s driving me insane. He briefly tried to shift his junk to the small changing table I had moved to the garage to eventually burn, but it’s practicability is laughable.
After watching a few hours of HGTV, I decided that yes, I could totally build him a fancy schmancy work space in an unused corner of our garage.
It took 8 days. I found dead mice and fly poop and spiders. It was exactly like what an episode of Hoarders: Buried Alive would be like. I cried hourly, I don’t know what all the lines on measuring tape mean, and eventually my dad had to come help me cut stuff because I couldn’t figure out how to shut the stupid saw off and accidentally cut the cord in half.
But I did it.
Last Friday, the kids and I drove an hour to the airport. It was a mixture of excitement to finally see him again, and fear that my lack of psychic vision would prove correct and he was dead.
We waited in baggage claim, no Andy.
Bags started coming around the turnstile and I grabbed his suitcase, no Andy.
I started to get anxious as I saw everyone from his flight claiming their belongings, but he was no where to be found.
The kids were getting antsy and I was getting tired of trying to keep them off the moving luggage spinner thing by threatening them with loss of limbs (when you are 5, you just assume shit grows back, apparently), so I decided to just start making my way to the information desk when Andy just comes strolling over out of nowhere, carrying an Arby’s bag.
Where were you, we were scared out of our minds!?
I was hungry for curly fires.
Ok fine, he just got back from overseas. I was not going to fight with him in the airport, and I really wanted to not hate him when I opened the garage door at home to reveal his surprise.
The kids clung to him as we made our way to the parking garage, and he slept most of the way home.
As we pulled into the driveway, I shook him awake, and when I hit the garage door clicker, it took him a second to digest what was going on.
Oh my God, did you do this?
Oh my God.
What? This took me over a week, I cut myself twice, you don’t like it?
No, I love it, it’s just that, when I asked you what you wanted me to bring you from Korea, you said nothing big, and to just surprise you.
Right, what did you get me, like a necklace or something? *rubs hands together eagerly*
Is it a keychain of a guy, and when I turn it upside down, his clothes come off?
No it has a fish on it.
I think we’re even with the whole missing cat remains thing.