Page 51 of Mistaken Identity
And nothing was ever open.
It sucked, because I had eighteen hours to kill in Hawaii before I had to get on another flight and do it all over again.
It sucked even more when we got to our hotel for the day and realized that the fire alarm had gone off and there would be no checking in to the hotel today.
It sucked even more that every single hotel I called within walking distance was booked full.
“So now what?” one of the flight attendants asked.
“I have room for three,” Jessica, the most senior flight attendant other than me, said, looking at the other three flight attendants that she was closest to, leaving me all by my lonesome.
I knew without asking which three she’d be taking with her.
I smiled and said, “Y’all go on ahead. Get a good night’s sleep.”
They didn’t waste time waiting around.
Meanwhile, I sat on the concrete curb across from the hotel that we’d have been staying at and wondered what in the hell I should do.
My phone pinged, and I looked down at it, a frown marring my face.
Audric:
Are you in Hawaii?
I frowned before texting back.
Me:
Yes.
Audric texted back quickly.
Audric:
Can I call you?
Instead of texting back, I called him.
“What’s up?” I asked the instant he answered.
“My dad called, and he said that the neighbors texted him telling him that we had a shit ton of packages on our porch. I don’t know what they are, or where they came from, but my dad doesn’t trust the neighbors enough to let them take them inside. If you’re there, and you have nothing to do, would you run over there and see what the packages are?”
I looked at my watch. “Well, you’re in luck, because my hotel’s on fire and I have nothing better to do.”
“What?” he bellowed.
“I wasn’t in it when it caught fire,” I admitted. “We were just trying to check into it after our flight landed and found it like that.”
“We have a truck we use when we’re on the island,” he said. “It’s parked at a long-term parking near the airport if you can find a way to it,” he offered.
“Nice,” I breathed. “I wasn’t sure that I would be able to get to the house without spending three hundred bucks on an Uber.”
“Let me know when you get there and I’ll give you the code to get into the truck.”
I called him back fifteen minutes later when I got to the long-term parking.
“Code to get into the truck is 34433,” he said. “Keyless entry is on the side of the door.”
