I drove straight to the airport, where the young woman behind the check-in counter stared at me, confused. I just smiled and told her to give me a ticket for the earliest departing flight, no preference on destination.
The boarding pass she slid across the counter had Miami printed on it.
Works for me. I needed sun, bad. The kind of sweltering heat that could evaporate every last ugly memory right out of my head.
On the plane, I sat next to a young mom holding a fussy baby. The little one wailed nonstop, and she kept shooting me with apologetic, sheepish smiles. I waved her off, told her it was no big deal, and even reached over to help prop up the baby's bottle for her.
The second my fingers brushed the warm glass of the bottle, a thought hit me out of nowhere.
I don't have the ener
