Page 9 of Three Stuffed Stockings

“Uh, no.” I pull my phone out of the front pocket of my backpack. My phone disconnected from the airport’s free Wi-Fi and I don’t have cell service.

“Your flight has been canceled due to weather conditions in Chicago.” She says nonchalantly as if this isn’t the most inconvenient possible news. “Let’s see when the next available flight is.”

She stares at the computer screen while I shift back and forth anxiously.

“The flight leaving tomorrow is full with other rebooked passengers.”

My mouth hangs open. I was thinking I’d have to wait a few hours, but she’s saying I can’t even leave tomorrow.

She ‘tsks’ as she shakes her head. That can’t be a good sign.

“You’re the very last person to reschedule from the canceled flight. If you had gotten here earlier, but as it is…” She trails off, shaking her head.

I shrug. What do you want me to do, lady? I’m here now.

She sighs. “The next available flight to Chicago is December 26th.”

“That’s in two days.” I stare at her in disbelief.

She just stares back at me.

“There’s no other option?” I continue.

“You are traveling during a very busy time. You could try booking with another airline or you could try for another airport.”

“What about Minneapolis-Saint Paul?” Already my dad scoffed when I asked him to pick me up at Chicago airport. He’ll hate the idea of driving even further away to get me.

“Mm.” She nods her head. “There is a seat available on a flight that arrives on the 25th of December at 10 AM.”

“Okay, just wait a minute.”

I sign back into the airport’s Wi-Fi and open WhatsApp to call my dad.

“Come on,” I whisper as the phone keeps ringing and ringing.

“Yeah?” My dad’s annoyed voice comes over the phone.

“Uh, hey Dad.” I pinch my forehead. I explain the situation while he remains completely silent.

“You expect me to spend all Christmas day driving back and forth to the airport?”

“I…” I don’t know how to finish that sentence. What did I expect? I’m their only child so I thought maybe they would want me around. Obviously, I was mistaken.

“We have church service at 9 AM tomorrow. So, I’ll pick you up in Chicago on the 26th. See you then.”

The line goes dead. I fight the tears heating my eyes. I will not let this man make me cry again. What did I expect? I’m only going back to them because I have to. I shouldn’t have expected things to have miraculously changed.

I take a deep breath. It’s whiplash going from feeling worshipped by three strangers to disliked by my own family. I already miss my mysterious Christmas men. They were so generous. And I don’t mean physically, although that’s certainly true. I mean in spirit. Their entire demeanor was giving. They used their words to make laughter and joy. They were genuine in their compliments. Their attention wasn’t a thing that they reserved like a bank vault, but instead outward and intentional.

It’s the right way to go about life if you ask me. I realize it’s problematic to compare them to my dad right now. But my father is supposed to be a pious man. Yet, he uses his words to belittle, to limit, and to shame. He makes others around him feel so bad, especially me. How can that be the right way to live for anyone? I want to live life like my FILIS men. Open and loving while realizing that life is short.

Maybe I had to leave them, but they gave me something to hold on to.

Who am I kidding? They wanted to whisk me away to the French Alps for Christmas, and I said no. I’m the world’s biggest idiot. No life lesson can make up for that. I didn’t even let myself ask for their numbers.

I trudge back to the terminal, readying myself to book the December 26th flight. Maybe they’ll put me up at some cheap airport hotel and I’ll just have to make the most of it.

I open my mouth to speak, but before I can, a familiar voice wraps around me like a warm embrace.

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