postsecret #1

The plane shook with each bump that it hit on the runway. With each bump, it increasingly gained speed. With each bump, I grew more nauseated. By the time the plane finally hoisted itself up into the air, I was clutching the stiff, brown airsickness bag so tight my muscles ached.
"Relax," Brad said as he rubbed my tense arm. I groaned again, tearing open the bag as the plane lurched higher still. I didn't throw up like I thought I would, but I felt my face go a little greener.
"Is she gonna be okay?" An elderly lady said in an irritated voice. I saw that she wore thick black glasses that turned up at the corners as she leaned forward, her pointed nose appearing between Brad's seat and mine. Her hair was a pale purple cloud styled the way a librarian would.
Brad looked at me, waiting for my answer. I swallowed.
"Uh yeah, I'll be fine," I said waving my hand. My left hand. The gold ring sparkled where the light hit it, and the bitchy fifties librarian seemed to notice. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but snapped it closed again as I glared at her. She leaned back in her seat and disappeared from view.
"I don't see why we have to tell your mother face-to-face," I grumbled, examining for the millionth time the simple diamond ring that seemed glued to my left ring finger.
"What else would we do? Elope?" Brad muttered, his gaze falling to my outstretched fingers.
"A quick phone call would have sufficed. Then we'd be a good 500 miles from Toledo, and she wouldn't be able to snap my neck." Brad said nothing. Good. He knew I had a point. I could feel fifties librarian lady soak up every word exchanged from behind us.
"Maybe a phone call would have been safer," he bagen, twiddling with his own gold band. "But you're going to have to see her at the wedding. It's better now than then, right?" He chuckled weakly; he knew his joke wasn't in the least funny. I rolled my eyes and said nothing. "Just because my mother can't stand you, it doesn't mean I can't either. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Norah, and you know that." The moment was ruined by a sharp intake of breath behind me. I ignored it.
"You know you're the only reason I agreed to this whole engagement thing, right?"
"I know," Brad whispered, a soft grin touching his lips.
"Psst, wanna know a secret?" I leaned into Brad, whispering in his ear too low for fifties librarian lady to hear. I didn't wait for him to answer. "I'm pretty sure the bathroom is vacant. I'll go first, you follow in a few minutes, okay?"
"Ew, but you almost barfed..." he wrinkled his nose.
"Oh shut up," I laughed and playfully smacked him on the side of his head. "I'll brush my teeth if it makes you happy," I said as I playfully unbuckled my seat belt and began to stand.
"God, I love you," Brad said as he began to dig inside his carry-on.

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Quick explanation: this is the first of a series of short scenes I've written based off of PostSecret cards. I'll just choose a particular card from postsecret.com that stands out to me and write a quick story from their point of view and how I imagine their life is like. It's a great way to cure writer's block and it's kind of fun. I'm definitely posting more of the ones I have written so far very soon.

I can't find the postcard that inspired this one, but it was something along the lines of "I'm going to marry your son whether you like it or not."