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Noel could still see the bright flicker of light outside of her closed eyelids.   She rolled over, pushing her body into the hidden crevice of the couch.  Just as she’d pulled the plush comforter above her head and nestled in the perfect position, the phone rattled.  Noel jerked out of comfort, yanking the covers to her waist.  Her cell lit up with Keith’s name, beating to his designated ringtone, Whitney Houston—I Will Always Love You.  She twirled her feet around to the floor and sat upright, running her fingers through her hair.  Any conversation with him, whether verbal or in-person, required her to look her best.

            Hoarsely, she answered. “H-hello?”

            “Hey you...”

            “Hey.”

            “You sleep?”

            “No, I was just nodding off.  What’s up?”

            “Can I see you?”

            “When?”

            “Now.”

            “I don’t know, Keith.  I have to be at the salon at 8am tomorrow.  I have an early appointment coming in.”

            “Suit yourself.”  He began to press end on his phone.

            “Hey WAIT!”

            “Yeah.”

            “I’ll be ready in 15 minutes.”

            Noel recalled the final warning that the salon owner had given her.  One more tardy meant forfeiture her job. But Keith was an exception.  She’d waited on him to call for 3 weeks and, now that he had, she wouldn’t pass on the opportunity.

            He arrived with alcohol in hand and they, promptly, toasted to their reconnection.  To life.  To prosperity. To whatever warranted another drink.

            She heard the vibration of a plane, so close, as though it prepared to land on her roof.  Airport only 2 miles away from her home.  She lifted her head from the couch, head beating, studying the two shot glasses—one cloudy with leftover lip gloss and the other cloudy with large fingerprints.  She pressed her cell phone and read.  10am.