She Said: “Mom, You’re Turning 70. We Want To Celebrate You.” I Booked The Flight. Landed At LAX. THEN I REALIZED…

I hung up before she could respond. For a moment, I just stood there. Then I turned off my phone.

Not airplane mode. Off. I picked up my suitcase, walked back into the terminal.

There was a coffee shop near baggage claim. I bought a cup of tea and a scone I didn’t want, and sat at a small table near the window. The scone tasted like cardboard.

The tea was too hot. Burned my tongue. I ate and drank anyway, because I needed something to do with my hands.

Around me, travelers moved with purpose. They knew where they were going. I didn’t.

After a while, I pulled out my phone and turned it on. Seventeen missed calls. Ten from Jessica.

Four from Brad. Three from a number I didn’t recognize. I deleted the voicemails without listening.

Opened my texts. Jessica: Mom, please pick up. Jessica: Brad is on his way to get you.

Jessica: Where are you? Brad: Dorothy, I’m at LAX. Where are you?

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