prognosis her mom has been given and every possible reaction to Jo seeing me there. Let’s just say, the majority of both scenarios didn’t leave warm and fuzzy feelings in my stomach.
I have just enough time in Atlanta to grab some food, scarf it down, and then board my connecting flight. The entire time, I mentally bitch for not telling Tegan to avoid this airport. Typically, I do unless this is my starting or ending destination, but usually when I travel home, I fly into Jacksonville, Florida instead. Atlanta International Airport can only be described as chaotic on a good day; it’s a headache getting from one gate to another. One that I don’t want or need today.
On the second leg of my flight, from Atlanta to LAX, I think over the advice my mom gave me when I called and informed her of my change of plans. While I didn’t come right out and say that the girl I’m in love with is going through hell and I need to not only be there for her but also confess my love, I did tell her that my best friend Jo is dealing with her mom’s illness alone and I needed to go help.
I’m sure my mom would have been supportive, right up until the point that I told her I had not only gotten Jo pregnant out of wedlock but then that I chose to cause a fight and run away from the situation.
That’s when my mom would have gone from the sweet, southern debutante to an angry, wooden-spoon flingin’, ass whoopin’, pissed off woman.
I feel as though I’m carrying around enough guilt about the way things were handled, and I’m disappointed in myself; I can only imagine just how upset my mom would be by it. And to be quite honest, I don’t know if she’d be more upset by my behavior or the fact that this is the second time I’ve encountered an unplanned pregnancy.
No, it’s better to not tell her the entire story.
Mom ain’t dumb, she’s knows I don’t keep women around long, but she also knows that Tess and Jo are the two exceptions to that rule.
She and Dad were both understanding though in my decision to go to California instead of coming home. I promised I’d make it up to them both soon. I just hope this trip has some positivity to it.
My main reasoning for flying out here is to be with Jo during this difficult time, but I know if the situation arises, I will take the opportunity to discuss us.
The flight lands in Los Angeles International Airport shortly after midnight. Knowing there is absolutely no way I’m going to her mother’s house at this time of night, I decide to hail a cab from the plethora of them parked outside the airport.
I can come back and rent a car in the morning if I want, I’m too exhausted to try to navigate my way through an unknown city.
I’m dead on my feet. Trying to adjust from being at sea and the time changes we go through out on the water is rough, then to add in jetlag and jumping into another time zone is enough to put me on my ass.
As soon as I’m checked into a quaint little resort near the famous Venice Beach, I take a hot shower and then pass out.
Tomorrow will be a long day.
I’m up, showered, dressed, and waiting for a cab to drive me to a rental car place by 9:00 A.M. My dreams were filled with ideas of how today will go.
This day feels like it’s taken forever to get here; I’ve waited over six months to not only see Jo again, but to be able to talk to her, too. I thought I missed her while I was deployed, but being back stateside and having not seen her yet has been pure agony. We don’t even need to discuss all of the shit going on between us, not right now; I just want some sense of normalcy back.
An hour later, I’m situated in my rental, a God-awful little Prius, with my phone’s GPS locked in on Jo’s home address.
Time to do this.
Pulling up outside the quaint, single story home, I take in everything possible. The front yard consists of a small, overrun rose garden with a weather worn wood wishing well. To the side, in the two car driveway,
I have just enough time in Atlanta to grab some food, scarf it down, and then board my connecting flight. The entire time, I mentally bitch for not telling Tegan to avoid this airport. Typically, I do unless this is my starting or ending destination, but usually when I travel home, I fly into Jacksonville, Florida instead. Atlanta International Airport can only be described as chaotic on a good day; it’s a headache getting from one gate to another. One that I don’t want or need today.
On the second leg of my flight, from Atlanta to LAX, I think over the advice my mom gave me when I called and informed her of my change of plans. While I didn’t come right out and say that the girl I’m in love with is going through hell and I need to not only be there for her but also confess my love, I did tell her that my best friend Jo is dealing with her mom’s illness alone and I needed to go help.
I’m sure my mom would have been supportive, right up until the point that I told her I had not only gotten Jo pregnant out of wedlock but then that I chose to cause a fight and run away from the situation.
That’s when my mom would have gone from the sweet, southern debutante to an angry, wooden-spoon flingin’, ass whoopin’, pissed off woman.
I feel as though I’m carrying around enough guilt about the way things were handled, and I’m disappointed in myself; I can only imagine just how upset my mom would be by it. And to be quite honest, I don’t know if she’d be more upset by my behavior or the fact that this is the second time I’ve encountered an unplanned pregnancy.
No, it’s better to not tell her the entire story.
Mom ain’t dumb, she’s knows I don’t keep women around long, but she also knows that Tess and Jo are the two exceptions to that rule.
She and Dad were both understanding though in my decision to go to California instead of coming home. I promised I’d make it up to them both soon. I just hope this trip has some positivity to it.
My main reasoning for flying out here is to be with Jo during this difficult time, but I know if the situation arises, I will take the opportunity to discuss us.
The flight lands in Los Angeles International Airport shortly after midnight. Knowing there is absolutely no way I’m going to her mother’s house at this time of night, I decide to hail a cab from the plethora of them parked outside the airport.
I can come back and rent a car in the morning if I want, I’m too exhausted to try to navigate my way through an unknown city.
I’m dead on my feet. Trying to adjust from being at sea and the time changes we go through out on the water is rough, then to add in jetlag and jumping into another time zone is enough to put me on my ass.
As soon as I’m checked into a quaint little resort near the famous Venice Beach, I take a hot shower and then pass out.
Tomorrow will be a long day.
I’m up, showered, dressed, and waiting for a cab to drive me to a rental car place by 9:00 A.M. My dreams were filled with ideas of how today will go.
This day feels like it’s taken forever to get here; I’ve waited over six months to not only see Jo again, but to be able to talk to her, too. I thought I missed her while I was deployed, but being back stateside and having not seen her yet has been pure agony. We don’t even need to discuss all of the shit going on between us, not right now; I just want some sense of normalcy back.
An hour later, I’m situated in my rental, a God-awful little Prius, with my phone’s GPS locked in on Jo’s home address.
Time to do this.
Pulling up outside the quaint, single story home, I take in everything possible. The front yard consists of a small, overrun rose garden with a weather worn wood wishing well. To the side, in the two car driveway,
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