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56 - Windy City

The day hadn't begun well; Fate and baggage handlers, it seemed, had most definitely not been on our side.

We had dragged our sorry butts out of bed at three in the morning to catch a six thirty flight from Perth to Wellington via a brief stopover in Sydney, but QANTAS baggage handlers at Australia's busiest airport were apparently in dispute with the airline over health and safety concerns and all international flights had been held up indefinitely.

"Tony's looking into flights taking a different route," Rick told me, barely looking up from his phone as he punched out a message to someone. I was too sleepy to do more than nod. Some of the guys had not bothered going to bed, I knew, but I had made sure everything was packed and ready before lying down fully clothed. I'd set my alarm but luckily Rick had come hammering on my door because I'd slept right through it.

I yawned and stretched. "What time is it in Wellington?" I asked the group in general.

"They're five hours ahead," Leon grunted and I began to sleepily do the math before Ed put me out of my misery and told me it was nine am over there.

"Thanks," I mumbled.

"We'll try to still get you there in time for a reunion," Ed winked and grinned at me as he put air quotes around the last word. Everyone knew – courtesy of Marcus – that Ben would be waiting for me in New Zealand.

I grinned back. "See that you do. It's been seven weeks, dammit." They all laughed and a couple of the guys slapped me on the back.

"You've given him tickets for the show, haven't you?" Ed asked. As if I wouldn't; two of my songs were written for him and I had something special planned for my last number as well. I nodded and Ed added, "Let me know if he wants more, it's not a problem." I thanked him again then leaned back and shut my eyes. All this wasted time should be good for a catnap, at least.

Ten minutes later Tony – Ed's manager – reported that the only commercial flight that didn't go through Sydney had a five hour stopover in Melbourne and wouldn't get us to New Zealand in time for the show tonight. He was now making enquiries about chartering a private plane. I dozed against Marcus's shoulder until the smell of coffee captured my attention, sitting up just as Jake handed me a hot, steaming cup. Over the past week I'd noticed that he and Meagan seemed to be hitting it off rather well and I watched them now as I sipped my caffeine pick-me-up. Meagan's face looked soft and sweet as she talked, Jake hanging on her every word then laughing shyly – wait; Jake, shy? I sat up a little more, trying not to be too obvious about spying on them but highly intrigued at this new side to my old friend.

I glanced at Marcus and noticed him looking in the same direction I was. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking, B1?" I asked out of the side of my mouth, quoting a children's cartoon show I had watched in my youth and which, I had discovered since being in Australia, had originated here.

He chuckled quietly. "God, Cara, you are such a kook."

"Come on," I nudged him in the side.

He sighed, giving in to my childish whimsy. "I think I am, B2."

"That wasn't so difficult, was it?"

Marcus groaned then offered, "He talks about her quite a bit."

"She hasn't talked about him at all," I responded, "but I'll soon fix that." We grinned at each other as we sipped our coffees and tossed occasional glances in their direction.

Thankfully, in just over an hour we were airborne and headed over the Indian Ocean and Great Australian Bight towards Melbourne, where we would stop briefly to refuel then cross the Tasman Sea to Wellington. It would give us just enough time to get to the venue and do sound checks before the show commenced; my hopes of much time with Ben before the gig were fading fast.