When Lightning Strikes

Home – a word I’ve missed so much during my one year stay in France. Although the beauty of the country had definitely enchanted me, I was immensely relieved to be coming home. Late-night phone calls, Skype and Instant Messaging weren’t enough for me, a girl who preferred simpler things. The old-fashioned, face-to-face conversations and physical contact such as friendly hugs had much more meaning than modern day technology.

Every morning back in Paris, I would have to head out and find a cute little restaurant along with other students of the exchange program I had been in, instead of waking up to the smell of mom’s usual food: crispy bacon, eggs and toast. Also, although I still grabbed my usual latte on college days, it would always be from Starbucks and usually about ten minutes before class started. In Paris, I had tried so many different types of coffee and tea in the mornings and afternoons that it wasn’t funny.

I was also used to saying goodnight to my parents and kissing their cheek before heading to bed every night. I couldn’t wait to arrive home, just to do that. The first few nights in Paris had been awkward – I had accidentally called my roommate ‘mom’ when bidding her a good night. From then on, I had to remind myself everyday that I was far away from home.

After I had recognised and grabbed my trunks on the conveyor belt, I made my way outside, into the main area where loved ones of the passengers waited anxiously to greet them. The airport was full of commuters, so I resorted to pushing my way slightly through the crowd and politely apologising at the same time. I didn’t want to seem rude, but if I didn’t shove my way through everyone, how would I ever be able to make it out alive?

I reached a waiting lounge adjacent to a small McDonald’s café, and a grin made its way onto my face as I spotted someone familiar. Compared to the everyday faded jeans and t-shirts, Aubrey stood out in her classic navy shift dress and patent pumps. Her fashion sense definitely hadn’t changed, which made me feel at ease, knowing she was still the same sister a year ago.

“Aubrey!” I called, as I strode over to her.

Her dark curls bounced as her head lifted up, and she jumped up in her seat from delight. “Gracie!” she exclaimed as we embraced happily. “You’re finally here!”

“Sure am,” I replied in a matter-of-factly tone.

Aubrey then reached around to help me with my bags, which held clothes, souvenirs, and other beloved possessions, such as my electric toothbrush. We then made our way out of the waiting lounge and out of the airport. As we reached the parking lot, I spoke up.

“So is there anything new?”

Aubrey’s bold red lips twitched slightly. “You haven’t noticed?”

My eyebrows furrowed immediately. So there was news? “Umm … no?”

She clucked her tongue and kept walking, leaving me to stumble behind her because my mind was elsewhere. What did she mean by ‘you haven’t noticed?’ Was it in plain sight? I stared at my sister’s slightly amused face and concentrated hard.

Nothing.

Not a single thing came to mind. She looked exactly the same. I checked for a new piercing, a new shade of eye shadow, her hairstyle, new shoes, a new trench coat, a necklace on her throat or a ring on her finger –

My eyes quickly zoomed onto the glittering gold ring I had never seen before, and I blinked. “You’re … you’re getting married?!” I managed to splutter, quite ungraciously.

Aubrey’s twinkling laughter rung in my ears. “Yes! Jason proposed to me while we were on a cruise around the Caribbeans! Can you believe, Gracie? He’s finally going to be my husband.”