South Beach

Kate slept at his place the evening before their flight to Miami. She sat on the small couch and laughed as he rearranged his suitcase for the third time. They fell asleep facing one another and the light from a nearby streetlamp leaked through the plastic blinds, falling onto their eyelids in yellowish stripes. She awoke suddenly to a familiar feeling; as if she were waiting for the last party to arrive, as if she hadn’t yet satisfied the journey.

The alarm clock chimed at 4:15 am, and John immediately stepped out of bed and began to dress.

“Let’s go, sleepyhead,”

“Five more minutes,”

“Suit yourself.”

The bathroom was filled with steam when Kate opened the door to brush her teeth.

“Who is it?” he joked. She pulled her hair behind her ears and splashed her face with cold water.

“I’m going to order an Uber in ten minutes, will you be ready?” she asked.

“Will you?” he laughed.

Why is this Uber 35 dollars, she thought to herself. She closed the app and reopened it. Now it’s $37, what the hell.

“The Uber is 40 bucks,” she said, tying her shoes.

“We could have driven.”

“And paid for parking?”

John reached over and grabbed her hand in the back of the car.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, I’m just freezing,” she said, leaning her head on his shoulder.

They booked their tickets three weeks prior on the couch with Kate’s laptop.

“We can save $30 if we don’t select seating,” he said. “The flights on this airline are never packed. We might be able to sit next to each other after all.”

“The flight is less than three hours,” Kate said, “I wouldn’t mind sitting alone.”

“Now, these tickets are so cheap because they charge for every extra thing; suitcases, water, everything. Since we’re only going for a weekend, we can pack light and carry one bag.”

“Okay,” she said, “I can wear a lot of my clothing on the plane. It’ll be warm there.”

She rubbed her eyes as they stood in the TSA line, thinking about that conversation.  

“You want to find something to eat when we get to our gate?” John asked.

“I can’t eat before flights, have I ever told you about that time I…”

He laughed, “yes, yes, you don’t need to elaborate.” He put his arm around her.

The flight was packed. John sat four rows behind Kate, and when she turned to look at him, he mouthed “I’m sorry” and shrugged his shoulders with a smile. She shook her head, smiling back at him, unraveling her headphones.

She couldn’t fall asleep. The woman in the next seat was chewing on a hot ham and cheese sandwich, as the child in front of her sang Frère Jacques to her stuffed alligator. She peeked back at John, his arms and head were folded over the tray table. Cool as a cucumber, she thought.

The plane started to shake, and Kate’s breath became short and scarce. The woman to her left did not look up from her book, and the man to her right did not wake up. It shook again, and Kate’s fingernails dug deep into the armrest. The seatbelt light flickered on.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, please remain seated during this time, thank you.”

Kate looked back at John, still fast asleep on his tray table. She took a long breath through her nose and breathed out of her mouth. Come on Kate, get it together, she whispered to herself.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, we are preparing for our descent,” a woman’s voice said, “It’s 8:45 am and sunny in Fort Lauderdale. Thank you for flying Spirit.”

“I guess I should have told you about my fear of flying,” Kate said to John. The morning sun shone through the train windows, covered in splattered bugs and dirt.

“No, it’s okay, I’ll find a way for us to sit together on the way back, don’t worry,” he said. He pulled her close, and they stared at the passing skyline. “It’s really not that much to look at,” he said.

“When was the last time you were in Florida?” she asked.

“Probably two or three years ago, you?”

“I went to Disney World in the fifth grade, does that count?”

John laughed, “sure,” he said.

It was 10am when they arrived downtown, but they couldn’t check into their hotel until 2pm. They sat down on the beach and Kate fell back into the sand, allowing the sun to crawl over her eyelids and lips. Her anxiety lifted for a moment, and she felt a sudden urge to make love on the beach. She opened her eyes and smiled at John.

“Let’s get a drink,” she said, jumping to her feet.

“South Beach is a lot like Europe,” John said as they walked down the main strip.

“In what sense?” Kate asked.

“The men and women luring us into their restaurants, it reminds me of Paris.”

“I would hate that job.”

They sat underneath a large red awning, and a waiter brought them two plastic menus.

“Just two beers,” Kate said.

“You okay?” John asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine, I’m just tired. I didn’t sleep at all on the plane.”

“We could hang out on the beach for a little longer. You could fall asleep on my chest,” he said, rubbing his shirt collar in a faux-seductive manner.

Kate laughed, “we only have two nights here, I want to get the most of it I guess.”  

She sipped the cold beer and stared at a couple of girls walking down the street in small string bikinis, their denim shorts sticking to their thighs wet with perspiration.

“I packed all wrong,” she smiled, nodding to the young girls.

The waiter brought the check and placed it in the middle of the table, face down. Kate reached over.

“45 bucks for two Modelos?” she said aloud.

“It’s South Beach, babe,” John said, “You want to split it?”

“I didn’t know South Beach was the new Manhattan,” she said, pulling out her wallet. “I’ve got it.”

“What would you like to do next?” John asked.

“Well, I suggested beers,” she said. “It’s your turn to pick the adventure.”

“Let’s walk a bit,” he said.

The beer had given Kate a slight boost of energy, but now she felt more tired than before. The pair held hands as they walked through the boardwalk, already crowded with beachgoers and tourists. A woman bumped into her shoulder as she rollerbladed past. An elderly man in a speedo licked an ice cream cone. Two men rubbed tanning lotion on their fresh tattoos. A small lizard sunned herself on the side of a wall. She noticed an attractive couple sitting on a bench, laughing together over an unfolded street map. Their happiness made her self-conscious about her relationship.

Kate was ready to go back to Philadelphia. She opened her bank account app and grimaced. For the past three months, she was working freelance for an inconsistent employer. They paid more than her asking rate, but the company would go several days, sometimes an entire week without responding to her invoice. At first, she justified their casual business approach with their fiscal generosity. She realized now that she was being taken advantage of, and she was angry at herself and other people but no one in particular. She was ready to fall asleep by the time they checked into their hotel.

“Okay, so where do you want to go?” John asked, ironing his shirt.

“Wherever is fine with me, I’ve heard good things about Wynwood,” she said. She combed her hair in the bathroom mirror, speaking to him with the door open.

He laughed, “of course you want to visit the hipster part of town.”

“It just seems more interesting than the clubs, I guess,” Kate said.

“I thought you liked dancing,” he said.

“I do, but just in different settings.”

“So you want to go to dinner in Wynwood?”

There was no answer. Kate started to sob quietly, and her tears fell into the sink and her long blonde hair.

“Babe?” he said.

She shut the door and turned on the shower. A tenseness built up inside of her throat, and she swallowed it further down. Steam emptied into the hotel room through the cracks in the door, and Kate breathed the hot air deeply into her lungs. Breathe out, she said to herself. Breathe out. But she couldn’t. Her breath was caught between the lump in her throat and the steam in her chest. Breathe out. Breathe out. Breathe out. Water poured over the purple vein in the center of her forehead. Breathe out. Her peripheral vision went black, the gap inching smaller and smaller and smaller. Breathe. Out.

The door swung open, “Jesus Katie at least turn the vent on,”

She coughed, exhaled, choking on the water falling from the showerhead.

“Are you okay?” John said, pulling the curtain back politely.

She was leaning against the wall, facing him, breathing slowly and covering her exposed chest with her arms.

“I’m fine,” she said, “I’m just tired.”