Airport Read Online Free

at the airport. This was as it should be. The reason he had stayed, through most of the three-day storm, was to be available for emergencies. Otherwise, he mused, as he pulled on the boots and laced them, by now he would have been home with Cindy and the children.
    Or would he?
    No matter how objective you tried to be, Mel reasoned, it was hard to be sure of your own real motives. Probably, if it had not been the storm, something else would have arisen to justify not going. Not going home, in fact, seemed lately to have become the pattern of his life. His job was a cause, of course. It provided plenty of reasons to remain extra hours at the airport, where lately there had been big problems facing him, quite apart from tonight’s imbroglio. But–if he was honest with himself–the airport also offered an escape from the incessant wrangling between himself and Cindy which seemed to occur nowadays whenever they spent time together.
    “Oh, hell!” Mel’s exclamation cut across the silence of the office.
    He plodded in the fur-lined boots toward his desk. A glance at a typed reminder from his secretary confirmed what he had just recalled. Tonight there was another of his wife’s tedious charity affairs. A week ago, reluctantly, Mel had promised to attend. It was a cocktail party and dinner (so the typed note said), downtown at the swank Lake Michigan Inn. What the charity was, the note didn’t specify, and, if it had ever been mentioned, he had since forgotten. It made no difference, though. The causes with which Cindy Bakersfeld involved herself were depressingly similar. The test of worthiness–as Cindy saw it–was the social eminence of her fellow committee members.
    Fortunately, for the sake of peace with Cindy, the starting time was late–almost two hours from now and in view of tonight’s weather, it might be even later. So he could still make it, even after inspecting the airfield. Mel could come back, shave and change in his office, and be downtown only a little late. He had better warn Cindy, though. Using a direct outside line, Mel dialed his home number.
    Roberta, his elder daughter, answered.
    “Hi,” Mel said. “This is your old man.”
    Roberta’s voice came coolly down the line. “Yes, I know.”
    “How was school today?”
    “Could you be specific, Father? There were several classes. Which do you want to know about?”
    Mel sighed. There were days on which it seemed to him that his home life was disintegrating all at once. Roberta, he could tell, was in what Cindy called one of her snotty moods. Did all fathers, he wondered, abruptly lose communication with their daughters at age thirteen? Less than a year ago, the two of them had seemed as close as father and daughter could be. Mel loved both his daughters deeply–Roberta, and her younger sister, Libby. There were times when he realized they were the only reasons his marriage had survived. As to Roberta, he had known that as a teen-ager she would develop interests which he could neither share nor wholly understand. He had been prepared for this. What he had not expected was to be shut out entirely or treated with a mixture of indifference and condescension. Though, to be objective, he supposed the increasing strife between Cindy and himself had not helped. Children were sensitive.
    “Never mind,” Mel said. “Is your mother home?”
    “She went out. She said if you phoned to tell you you have to be downtown to meet her, and for once try not to be late.”
    Mel curbed his irritation. Roberta was undoubtedly repeating Cindy’s words exactly. He could almost hear his wife saying them.
    “If your mother calls, tell her I might have to be a little late, and that I can’t help it.” There was a silence, and he asked, “Did you hear me?”
    “Yes,” Roberta said. “Is there anything else, Father? I have homework to do.”
    He snapped back, “Yes, there is something else. You’ll change your tone of voice, young lady, and show a little more