“What do you mean we have to cut our trip short?!?!” I yelled at Connor. “This is the only time we get to spend quality time together! I understand your dedication, I’m just as committed to my responsibilities, but you know that they keep us apart way too often. You cannot tell me we have to leave our slice of heaven just because of your job. I won’t do it!” Connor looked at me with a certain amount of guilt but still maintained this vacation would need to come to an end sooner than intended.
“But why is your job more important than the time we carve out for ourselves?” I threw back at him in the heat of our argument.
“It’s not more important, ” he agreed, “but it certainly allows for our lifestyle. Who else do you know that can take three months off to go on vacation?” he asked quietly. “We’ve been here for a month and a half already, so it’s not like we haven’t had somewhat of a decent get-away.”
“Yes, but it’s only half the time we normally spend together! Remember, with my current schedule, I probably will not see you again until next year. It’s just not fair!” I yelled again.
“Look, the job’s scheduled to start next Wednesday, it’s Friday now, and we still have a few more days. Plus, we have that trip scheduled for Sunday to see the ruins at Tulum. Let’s enjoy these last few moments and squeeze as much joy into them as possible. Okay?” saying it with that cute pleading look in his eyes that I can never resist.
“And I promise, I will tell my boss that nothing, absolutely nothing, will ever interrupt my vacation again. I already give enough blood and sweat on the job the rest of the year,” Connor said, acknowledging my internal fear this might become a regular occurrence.
“Okay,” I said, taking a deep breath right after. “No interruptions, ever again.”
We reveled in Mexico’s beauty those last few days together, enjoying the heat, frolicking in the ocean, and eating as much great food as we could. Knowing work would require his attention; he didn’t imbibe as much as usual. I didn’t care, so the liquor flowed freely for me. Holding hands and each other tight, we said our downhearted goodbyes to our beautiful beach Monday evening before turning in. Our flight was leaving early Tuesday morning. We were not looking forward to it in the least. Especially not me because I’d enjoyed the whiskey a wee bit too much the night before!
The alarm clock rattled us awake, almost shockingly so, as we’d not required it for so long. It felt like I was jarred from a deep sleep very uncomfortably. Add to that a hangover, and I knew this would be an awful day. First things first, coffee.
We both got ready to leave, the concierge came and picked up our bags, getting us settled into the cab. The obligatory tip and off we went. Then my butt began to vibrate; it was a text from my job. Oh, great, I guess I was important too.
Your mission, Angie, should you choose to accept it, will be waiting for you at the the usual locker at the International Louis Armstrong Airport.
How did they know I would be coming home?
TO BE CONTINUED ON THURSDAY…