Three Coke glasses sloshed Manischewitz and sparkling wine as three women toasted the coming dawn, "to liberation!"
They drank, "it tastes like Welch's. Well…sort of." Each leaned forward in their chairs, elbows on the kitchen table, conspirators locked in the moment.
"I can't believe we're doing it," Samantha muttered.
"I'm giddy," Nicky agreed. She stretched, "that weight is just lifting right off my shoulders. Feels great."
"Nobody believes me when I tell'em," Irene confided.
"Me either," Samantha and Nicky replied.
"They will," Irene laughed. "And, it won't be while we're flying. It'll be after we're gone. First, they won't notice. Then, it'll dawn on them. We did it. We got out."
Samantha twirled the alcoholic grape juice then placed her glass on the wooden table, "five hours to go ladies. Rest or pull an all-nighter and sleep on the plane?"
"All-nighter," Nicky said. "I'm not missing this flight."
"Me either," Irene concurred.
"So, is everyone packed?"
"Oh, come on," Irene rolled her eyes at Samantha, "we've all been through our bags at least fifty times since yesterday. Not to mention the hundred times since we decided to go."
"I know. I've repacked at least seventeen times today. I'm just not sure what we need and what's superfluous."
"My philosophy: 'can I live without it?'" Nicky shrugged, "as many times as I've moved…well, there's a lot I can live without."
"Besides, if we need something we can always buy it later."
"Good point," Samantha conceded. She yawned while saying, "listen, you two have fun. I'm going to knock out for a few. I'm getting too old for all-nighters."
"Too old for all-nighters? But, not too old to drop everything, fly to Argentina, and teach English as a second language?"
"Very different things, my dear. On that note: see you in a few hours."
The last thing Samantha heard before she drifted off was two glasses clanking and a jovial, "to Argentina!"