You'll let me hold your hand

Let me teach you the story of Oz

Clara jerked awake as her alarm went off in her ears. She rustled through her things for a second to find her phone and turn it off. Taking a deep breath, she pulled off her headphones and reached a hand forward to see the flight information. 4 hours to go, she thought to herself as she watched the little digital plane hover over Eastern Russia. Not too much longer.

She had set an alarm for 8:00 AM KST so that she could avoid jetlag as best she could. Mrs. Chan had told her that she would be meeting with her potential employers that Sunday morning. She'd been pouring over blogs on how to avoid and help jet lag when flying internationally for days ; and the most frequent advice was to try and adjust to the current time on the plane. She'd done well in her opinion as it was only 12:00 AM back home.

Glancing quickly around the plane, she saw that all the other passengers in Business were asleep. KJH had been so kind as to book her a Delta One flight so she had completely reclined her seat and was lying flat back comfortably. What's a little lie-in, Clara? Get another hour's rest, she heard in her mind.

"No," she whispered on a breath as she forced herself to into an upright position. "Remember this is a great opportunity." She had promised herself, waiting in the Sky Lounge for her flight at DTW, to become the best version of herself possible. No more sleeping in. No more putting things off. She'd named it '#Adulting: A Work in Process' in her mind and she was determined to have completed it by the end of the year.

She raised her seat and pushed the TV back into its original position before standing up and collecting her blanket and pillow. She quickly folded it up and placed them on the other size of her seat. She grabbed her in-flight amenity case and walked quickly down the aisle to the restroom. She looked at herself in the mirror as she brushed her teeth.

Her hair was still smooth in its braids and looked well-oiled and clean. Her nutmeg skin was clear and as bright as could be managed in bright fluorescent lighting. Her Nike sweat suit was still presentable and not wrinkled from sleep. Quickly, in a moment of vanity, she turned her body to the side and cocked her head forward and looked at herself.

Not bad.

She pulled the excess fabric of her hoodie back and looked carefully at her waist and hips. You look good, she admitted to herself. Mimi had always said she looked like her mother when they poured over her family photos and right now, she had to agree. All she needed as a pair of gold bamboo hoops, a pink bandana, and high waisted denim pants and she would look just like her at her age. "My hourglass," her father would say as he stood behind her in the kitchen, arms wrapped around her waist, chin on her head.

Maybe that was why she felt so uncomfortable with herself after her mother passed. After her dad's death, her mother had gotten so thin in grief that she was merely a shadow of the hearty woman she was. Cancer had made it worse: any leftover fat she had vanished quickly as she went through chemo. It had taken everything that was beautiful about her away: the glow of her caramel skin, the sway of her hips, the heaviness of her hair lying on her back in simple plaits. The women she'd buried as a skin and bone shell of her mother, but she'd loved her all the same because that was all she had.

Abruptly, she let go of the fabric and smoothed it down as she swallowed against her tears. I'm not going to cry about this right now. Mimi's Grandma had forewarned her about this.

"Time doesn't heal all wounds, Cece. I don't know what fool ever said that and why people believed him. Your folk passing away like that was a misfortune not many will ever know. You didn't deserve that. Your momma didn't deserve that. Your daddy didn't deserve that. I'll never know why they were taken away so soon and so horribly, but that's not for me to know. Who knows why God kept you here on this Earth," she asked, resting her needle and staring out at the dogs playing down the road.