Free Fly Away by Kristin Hannah

when I found out about Kate’s cancer, I changed my life in an instant; I
     walked away from everything—my mega-successful TV talk show and my condominium—and
     dedicated my life to caring for my best friend.
    My phone rings and I stumble toward it, grateful for any distraction. The caller ID
     says Ryan and my first thought is, Kate’s calling, and I feel a spike of joy. Then I remember.
    I pick up, hearing the strain in my voice as I say, “Hello?”
    “What happened to you last night?” Johnny says without even bothering to say hi.
    “I couldn’t take it,” I say, slumping onto the floor by my bed. “I tried.”
    “Yeah. Big surprise.”
    “What does that mean?” I sit up. “The music? It’s what Kate wanted.”
    “Did you even talk to your goddaughter?”
    “I tried,” I say, stung. “She only wanted to be with her friends. And I read the boys
     a story before bed. But…” My voice cracks. “I couldn’t stand it, Johnny. Being without
     her…”
    “You were okay for the two years of your fight.”
    I draw in a sharp breath. He has never said anything like this before. In June, when
     Kate called and I came running to the hospital, Johnny welcomed me back into the family
     without a word. “She forgave me. And believe me, I was not okay.”
    “Yeah.”
    “Are you saying you didn’t forgive me?”
    He sighs. “None of this matters anymore,” he says after a pause. “She loved you. That’s
     that. And we’re all hurting. Christ. How are we going to make it? Every time I look
     at the bed, or at her clothes in the closet…” He clears his throat. “We’re going to
     Kauai today.”
    “What?”
    “We need time together now. You said so yourself. Our flight is at two, on Hawaiian.”
    “That’s not much time to get ready,” I say. An image blossoms in my mind—the five
     of us on the beach, healing together. “It’s perfect. Sunshine and—”
    “Yeah. I gotta go.”
    He’s right. We can talk later. Now, I need to hurry.
    *   *   *
    I hang up and get moving. Packing for paradise takes no time at all, and in less than
     twenty minutes, I am packed and showered. I pull my damp hair into a stubby ponytail
     and dash on makeup as quickly as I can. Johnny hates it when I’m late. Tully-time,
     he calls it, and he’s not smiling when he says it.
    In my walk-in closet, I find a teal and white Lilly Pulitzer dress and pair it with
     silver high-heeled sandals and a white straw hat.
    As I slip into the jersey dress, I imagine this vacation. It is something I need—this
     time away with the only family I have. We will grieve together, share memories, and
     keep Kate’s spirit alive among us.
    We need each other. God knows I need them.
    I am ready at 11:20—only a few minutes later than optimal—and I call for a Town Car.
     I’m not that late. No one really needs two hours at the airport.
    I grab my small rolling bag and leave the condo. Downstairs, a black Town Car is waiting
     in front of the building.
    “SeaTac,” I say, depositing my luggage at the curb by the trunk.
    Surprisingly, the traffic is sluggish on this warm autumn morning. I look at my watch
     repeatedly.
    “Go faster,” I say to the driver, tapping my foot on the floor. At SeaTac, we pull
     up to the terminal and I am out of the car before the driver can even open his door.
     “Hurry up,” I say, waiting for him to get my luggage, checking my watch. It is 11:47.
     I am late.
    Finally, I get my bag and I run, holding my hat on my head and dragging the suitcase
     behind me. My big straw bag keeps slipping off my shoulder, scratching my bare arm.
     The terminal is crowded. It takes me a minute to find them in the crowd, but there
     they are, over by the Hawaiian Airlines ticket counter.
    “I’m here!” I yell, waving like a game show contestant trying to get noticed. I run
     toward them. Johnny stares at me in confusion. Have I done something wrong?
    I come to a breathless stop. “What? What’s wrong?