“Have you ever said yes to something crazy? Something you would normally have said no to?”
“I’m not really the crazy type,” I explained. “I’m more of a planner.”
“Have you ever had sex with a stranger?” Her eyes were twinkling, and I noticed her two friends leering at me.
“Certainly not.”
Since when did I sound like such a square?
“Maybe it’s time for you to live a little,” she said gently.
I thought about how settled my life had been this past year. How, with a steady girlfriend, I’d felt… good. Not perfect, of course, but steady. Like my life was following the path it was meant to. The high-level job, the modern high-rise apartment, the lovely and kind woman on my arm. It had been…
Nice.
“But Darci—”
“Fuck Darci. Do you hear what I’m saying? Fuck the ex-girlfriend. Tell her to take a long walk off a short pier. You deserve someone a hell of a lot better than a chick whose idea of fun is setting her boyfriend up with Big Daddy for macho male man shit.”
I stared wide-eyed at the woman, both for her language and her forthright assessment of my situation. She didn’t know me at all, so why the hell did she think she could make such bold proclamations about what I needed?
“She’s a nice gir—woman. Encouraging me to get along with her family was just practical.”
Her face softened as she reached across the space between us to squeeze my arm. “Life’s too short to settle for ‘practical’ and ‘safe.’ Have a fling. Do something crazy. Get lost somewhere and fly by the seat of your pants for once. Let someone else be in charge, and stop being responsible for a little while.”
I stared at her some more. “What makes you think I’m so boring and predictable?” Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted the tiny and now very empty bottle of hand sanitizer sticking out of the side pocket of my bag. I ignored it.
“You said you were the oldest of ten. That usually means you’re reliable, structured, cautious… am I right so far?”
“Maybe,” I admitted.
“And you’ve probably stayed fairly close to home in case someone needed you?”
I nodded, thinking of what it was like for the oldest of ten siblings when one of the parents was rarely around to help. I remembered nights of cooking boxed macaroni for everyone when I was seven, of helping clean up spills the babies made and doing the dishes when my mom was singing lullabies and bedtime stories to my younger siblings. I remembered changing disgusting diapers when I was as young as five and my brother Cal throwing up on me ten minutes before my high school graduation.
Even as recently as the previous year, I’d been called home to help my baby sister Sassy deal with a pregnancy scare. Had my mother not been half a world away, I was sure she would have been the one Sassy ran crying to. But the minute my parents had moved overseas, I’d become the default stand-in parent. I’d never known any different. And I loved my siblings with the ferocity of a thousand warriors. I couldn’t imagine it any other way.
“Maybe it’s time for you to figure out who you are without all that other stuff.”
“What other stuff?” I asked, though deep down I knew what she meant. How many times had I wondered myself what things would be like if I’d been allowed to be more like my younger siblings… if I’d been allowed to just be a kid?
“Rules. Responsibilities. Expectations… Labels.”
I closed my eyes and considered her words. Was I unhappy with my life the way it was? No. I had almost everything I’d ever imagined. A solid career as a financial analyst just like my father, a loyal and loving family in Texas, and a pretty, sweet girlfriend… well, until recently anyway.
“No. I think you’re wrong,” I told her. “My life is fine the way it is.” I hated that my voice sounded just a little too insistent. Like maybe she wasn’t the one I was trying to convince.
She studied me for a moment before shrugging. “Meh. Maybe it’s not your time yet. But I’ll bet fifty bucks you could use some spice in your life, and a powerful missile in your silo wouldn’t go amiss if you know what I mean.”
The tiny frail woman across from us snorted and reached a bony hand across the aisle to fist-bump my new friend.
“What are the three of you doing in Ireland?” I asked in an effort to get the focus off me.
“A tiny bit of family genealogy with a whole lotta whiskey drinking,” my seatmate said before all three of them howled with laughter and then began talking about the bedroom talents of someone named Harold.
I kept pretty much to myself for the remainder of the flight and tried to think of whether or not I should try to rekindle things with Darci. Maybe if I just explained to her about the plan…