Take me home


Mr. Angry ended up getting the job in Hawaii. And we agreed to break things off. He talked down to me and I let him. Depressed of confidence and self-esteem, I let this kind of mister in my life. And now I was finally finished with this part of my life too.

I decided to return to Hawaii after much deliberation. I was contemplating spending my savings on a trip to Prague for a Teaching English as a Second Language course but I decided returning home made better sense. What I really wanted was to be surrounded by people who loved me for who I was. For as much as I wanted to run far away, and travel like I had always dreamed, I had no idea what I was going to do with my life. Now I just knew I wanted my mother.

Mr. Angry was going to go to a different island but unfortunately we were on the same flight.

Mrs. Rabbit dropped us off at the airport and stood in the long line keeping me company. After she left, Mr. Angry said, “Some nerve. I can’t believe she didn’t help us with our bags. You were pushing your suitcase and carrying two. My hands were obviously full.” He made a big gesture of showing off his suitcases.

I looked at him in irritation, “She gave us a ride to the airport. She was drinking tea. Who cares? We’re here and we’re fine.”

And so began another argument. Then as we were getting checked in at the ticket counter, he asked the lady if we could be seated together. This man is mad, I thought. What the hell is he thinking?

Until we boarded the plane, Mr. Angry continued to argue about Mrs. Rabbit’s inconsiderate behavior. I allowed myself to get sucked into his drama one last time. I made the mistake of engaging. Sadly. foolishly defending my friend who didn’t need defending, but by the time we got to our seats, we stopped. I opened a book and read during the entire six hour flight.

As I poured over Phillipa Gregory’s strange sexy world of Wideacre, I realized books save lives and I wasn’t thinking metaphorically. They have certainly saved mine. I can’t imagine what my world would look like before I was given A Return to Love in college. And during the last two months of Trembling Trees I listened and read The Power of Now and I know that book helped me locate some piece of real estate.

So as I read this tome of a book on the airplane, it was hard not to smile as Mr. Angry sat there fuming. It wasn’t that I was happy he was miserable, it’s just I no longer wanted to engage and I no longer cared what he thought about me. The world, I learned, was a personal battle ground against him and he sat on his mighty throne of finger pointing.

When the plane stopped over briefly in Maui, Mr. Angry stormed off. I said, “Bye” to his back thinking how silly this all was but then he slowed down and asked if I was going to accompany him to baggage claim. I shook my head in disbelief.


“Why not?”

“Because,” I couldn’t believe I had to explain but I tried to be nice about it, “because I’d have to go through security again.”

He walked off in a huff. I smiled, shook my head, and inhaled the sweet smells of coffee brewing and decided to treat myself.


When I was unpacking I found a gold necklace at the bottom of my purse. It was the necklace I had given to Mr. Angry for Christmas. Immediately I realized he had put it in there during the flight. Most likely he dropped it in there when I went to the bathroom, which was frequently. I smiled when I realized he probably got excited whenever I dug around my purse looking for my chap stick. He wanted me to find the necklace and ask, “Why did you give this back?” Oh, this was too delicious. Thank God I didn’t find this. I missed the bait.

“Mom, look what I found,” I held up the necklace.

“What’s this from?”

“It’s the chain I had to you get for Mr. Angry.” It was a Thai gold necklace.

“He put it back in my purse while we were on the plane.”

Her smile matched mine. I watched her put the necklace on, “What an idiot.”

We laughed.

“Are you going to keep it?”

“I don’t know. I’ll probably sell it.”

She did.

A year later he called and left a message on my answering machine.

“Hello,” I said cautiously, “you called?”

“Hi! How are you?”

“Good.” I did not ask him how he was. It didn’t seem honest to ask because I did not care. Why was he calling me? What did he want?

“Look, I wanted to call you because,” he sighed, “I’ve been thinking – a lot. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about how I treated you and I wanted to say...I’m sorry.”

“Oh.” This was surprising, “apology accepted.”

“I’m really sorry Lani.”

“Forget it.” I have, I wanted to add.

Mr. Angry laughed uncomfortably, “Well, that was easier than I thought it would be. You’re too nice.”

“Forget it.”

“So, hey what have you been up to? Do you know I bought a house? If you’re ever in Maui, you should stop by. I’d love to see you again.”

His suggestion was not only terrifying it was absurd, “I don’t think so. But thanks.”

“Well, think about it. It’s a great house. Have you ever been to Maui before?”

“Uh, yes but I’m going to have to pass.”

Then three years later he mysteriously got a hold of my phone number and called again. “Hey, it’s Mr. Angry. I know you’re wondering why I’m calling you but you’ve been on my mind lately. I’ve been thinking about you and I miss you. Let’s talk, please call.”

I ignored the message then worked on hunting down the informant who gave my number way. Then Mr. Angry called again, following up with another phone message. My imagination went high and to the right. I began to worry that he would suddenly show up at my apartment. I became paranoid of being home alone, ducking near windows. Later I heard that he ended up dating women who looked like me. I don’t think he’ll be calling me again and if you see him, please don’t give him my number.

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