by Janette Rallison, Heather B. Moore, Luisa Perkins, Sarah M. Eden, Annette Lyon, Lisa Mangum
She pulled her share of the goodies over to her side of the table. “How is your grandma Alena?” she asked as she opened the Funyuns. “Is she still fighting to keep living on her own?”
He opened his Doritos. “She moved in with my aunt Rita last month.”
“Rita. That’s the daughter she—”
“—claims to have adopted at a pet shelter.” Miguel’s dark eyes danced. He’d always been the most naturally happy person she’d ever known. “Mamá made them both go in and talk to the priest; that way, when they kill each other, it won’t be on her conscience.”
She loved Miguel’s family. They were funny and quirky and a breath of fresh air.
He paused with a chip partway to his mouth. “How’s work? Did they ever merge those two branches?”
Of course he remembered that. She’d dated a few guys who probably couldn’t have come up with the name of the company she worked for, let alone what was going on with her job. Miguel had never been like that.
“They did. And I got promoted to account executive.”
He quickly swallowed a mouthful of soda. “That’s awesome. Did they give you a raise, too?”
She nodded. “And a bigger cubicle. I’m not corner-office material yet, but I’m working on it.”
“As hard as you work, you’ll have that corner office in no time.”
She dug into her Funyuns. “Tell that to my family. They all either think I’m in a dead-end career or I’m working too many hours. It’s the only thing they debate as often as which parent everyone dislikes the most.”
“Do either of your folks claim to have picked you up at a pet shelter? ’Cause that’d make the choice a little easier.”
She didn’t often laugh about the mess that was her family, but she did then. And she had many times over the year she and Miguel had been together. Somehow he managed to joke about it without making light of it all.
“I’ll have to ask whichever one of my parents I have to spend Fourth of July with,” she said between sips. “Dad planned this big elaborate barbeque. Then Mom found out and announced she was hosting a dinner party at the exact same time. It’s like the Hunger Games, except everyone is begging to get killed off.”
Miguel pointed a Dorito at her. “What you need is to get yourself invited to something else that day so you don’t have to go to either one.”
“Next time I’m on Craigslist, I’ll be sure to search for ‘Parties for People Avoiding Their Feuding Families.’ That ought to do it.”
His warm, genuine chuckle rumbled through him. “That’s a good way to get yourself murdered. It’d be a lot safer to come to my family’s Fourth of July party. You remember it from last year. A ton of people and a ton of food.”
“We’re not— we were dating last year, so it was okay for me to go then.”
He was shaking his head before she finished her protest. “No one’ll care if we’re not there as a couple. I mean, they’ll care because they’re all still in mourning over our breakup. Mamá lights a candle for the two of us every time she goes to mass.”
If not for the laughter in his tone, she might have been worried. Either he was indifferent, or he thought that seeking the help of the divine for an ended relationship was taking things a little far.
“Fresh salsa again this year?” She was honestly considering it a little. A very little.
“And live music.” He wiggled his eyebrows as if offering a temptation she couldn’t possibly resist. “And, as if that weren’t enough, at least half of the people there will speak entirely in Spanish. You won’t understand a word.”
She finished off her Dr. Pepper. “I wonder what it would take to get my family to talk only in languages I don’t understand.”
“Things sound even worse with your family than they were before.” He set aside his snacks and gave her his full attention. “Are you all right?”
She slumped a little on the bench. “It’s really not any different than before. I guess I just notice it more than I used to.” Knowing Miguel’s family and watching how they interacted with one another had changed the way she saw her own family.
“Then maybe it’s a good thing you’ve been away from them the past few days.”
It was, and yet...
“What is it?” he asked.
The confession that came next surprised her. “This trip was a little lonely. I always come here alone, but I really felt it this time.”
He reached across the table and set his hand on hers. She ought to have pulled away, but found she didn’t have the heart. His touch was as gentle and tender as she remembered, and she’d missed it. She adjusted her hand enough to thread her fingers through his.
“Where did we go wrong, Jane?” he asked quietly. “We were always so good together.”
Regret trickled over her. “We just wanted different things, I guess.”
His brow pulled downward. His gaze grew more intense. “You didn’t want to spend the rest of your life with me.”
That wasn’t it exactly. “I didn’t not want it.”
He blinked a few times in rapid succession. “But you turned me down. You said no.”
She realized quite suddenly how personal their discussion had become. This was exactly the topic she’d wanted to avoid. Thinking about their breakup made her emotional, and she wasn’t about to start crying in a crowded airport.
She pulled her hand back. “Thanks for the snack break.”
“Jane, I—”
“Ladies and gentlemen, we have updated flight information for our Denver passengers.”
Jane turned her gaze to the gate counter.
“Due to ongoing weather problems throughout much of the Midwest, delays and cancellations are widespread throughout the country. The delay of this evening’s Denver flight has been extended. We do not, at this time, have an estimate for when the flight will depart.”
Not even an estimate? That is not a good omen.
“Passengers wishing to rebook for a future day may speak with any of the gate agents who have now arrived for that purpose. For those choosing to wait, we appreciate your continued patience, and we will keep you updated. Thank you.”
A few passengers jumped up immediately; others seemed to be debating. An indefinite delay most likely meant an eventual cancellation. But there was still a chance. And rebooking wouldn’t necessarily make a difference. If flights were being delayed and cancelled across the country, travel would be chaotic for days.
She met Miguel’s eyes once more. What did he mean to do about his flight? If they both intended to stay and wait out the delay, that’d likely mean more awkward conversations, more confronting her own regrets and confusion. She wasn’t sure she was ready for that.
But airlines didn’t provide hotel accommodations when weather was to blame for flight problems. And this trip hadn’t been business. She’d come to clear her head and try to get herself back on track. She’d paid for the entire thing herself. She didn’t have the budget for another night at a hotel.
“What are you planning to do?” she asked. “Wait it out or reschedule?”
His smile was slow and soft. “I have all the time in the world, Jane. I’m willing to wait.”
She shouldn’t have liked the sound of that, but she did. She very much did.
I didn’t not want it.
Miguel wasn’t sure what she’d meant by that, but he liked what it hinted at. He figured she’d turned down his proposal because she didn’t want to be with him. But that, apparently, wasn’t entirely true. He had to figure out what was true.
He sat in their booth, finishing off his chips, trying to decide what came next. It had been almost thirty minutes since she’d taken up her bag and offered him a “talk to you later.” He was determined to hold her to that. Of course, there was a fine line between being determined and being a stalker.
He slouched low on the bench. “Love is a pain,” he muttered.
“Tell me about it,” someone answered behind him
.
Miguel looked back. A guy in the skinny-jeans-and-tee-shirt look only a person who was both young and crazy in-shape could pull off sat there alone, but with several mismatched carryon bags.
The guy nodded. “I’m Tim,” he said.
“Miguel.” He turned a little on the bench, stretching his legs out the length of it, sitting full profile to the guy, who sat the same way.
“How long do you think we’ll be stuck here?” Tim asked.
Miguel motioned with his chin toward the TV. “With that kind of weather, I’d guess all night. If the flight doesn’t end up cancelled altogether.”
Tim pushed out a huff of breath. “Just my luck. My first week off in eighteen months, and I’m going to spend it here in the airport.”
“Is New York home or Denver?”
“New York is, Denver was.” Tim crossed his Converse at the ankles. “Some friends and I were going to spend some time enjoying nature. LaGuardia’s not exactly what we had in mind.”
Miguel could appreciate that. “This airport is all I’ve seen of New York. It’s not exactly Broadway, but I guess it has its own charm.”
Another guy, dressed in slacks and a tucked-in button down shirt, joined Tim at his booth. Their styles were different, yet something about the two of them was very similar.
“This is Darren,” Tim said. “Darren, this is Miguel, who just attempted to compare the charms of LaGuardia to Broadway.”
Darren eyed Miguel disapprovingly, though with enough drama to make the look hilarious. “We burn people at the stake for that kind of heresy.”
Miguel silently chuckled. “My girlfriend would probably be the one to light the torch; she’s crazy about Broadway. Well, my ex-girlfriend. But I’m working on that.”
Tim’s brow shot upward. “Ah. Now we’ve stumbled on the reason for your earlier declaration about love.” He turned to Darren. “That’s how I met Miguel. He was emoting about the pains of love.”
“‘Emoting’?” Miguel laughed. “I only said four words.”
Darren shook his head. “You can emote without any words if you try hard enough. But back to the ‘I’m working on that’ part. You’re trying to win your ex back?”
Miguel gave the two a very quick, very vague version of his current predicament, minus the personal reasons for their breakup. He found in them a very sympathetic audience.
“And she’s here?” Tim’s eyes darted about, looking for her, though he couldn’t have known what she looked like. “That is fate. You can’t ignore fate.”
“Fate seems to be ignoring me,” Miguel said. “We talked for a while over junk food, but as soon as I brought up anything even kind of personal, she took off.”
Darren scratched at his chin. “Took off in a huff, or just took off?”
Miguel didn’t think she’d been in a huff. But he wasn’t really sure.
Darren waved over three more guys. Anyone looking would have pegged the five of them as a group. Same commitment to style, same mannerisms. “Miguel here is trying to make his ex-girlfriend his ex-ex-girlfriend. And he is failing miserably.”
“Thanks,” Miguel muttered.
Darren waved it off. “He hasn’t seen her since she broke up with him, and then, boom, here she is waiting for the same flight.”
One of the newcomers turned wide eyes on Miguel. “This is meant to be. You have to do something.”
Miguel held his hands up in a gesture of helplessness.
“Chocolates?” Wide Eyes suggested.
“She’s more of a salty junk food kind of person. But I tried that already and didn’t get very far.”
“Flowers,” Tim said. “Oh, but where would you get them here?”
“Maybe he knows origami,” one of the others suggested.
Miguel just shook his head.
Two of the hipsters sat at his booth and furrowed their brows in thought. “What are some of her favorite things?” one asked. “Besides all the junk food you already bought.”
“Food and New York City, especially Broadway.”
“Plays or musicals?” Darren pressed.
“Musicals.” Miguel knew that for a fact. “But as you’ve already explained, LaGuardia is about as different from Broadway as you can get.”
“How did you ask her forgiveness when you were still together?” Tim asked.
“Homemade tamales. A foot rub. Begging forgiveness in my best Ricky Ricardo accent.”
His five newest best friends pondered his list. Authentic, homemade tamales, they acknowledged, couldn’t be had in an airport terminal. Not one of them recommended a public foot rub. But they seemed in favor of his Ricky Ricardo impression. Darren, especially.
“It’s like an inside joke for the two of you,” Darren said. “Go with that. It’ll remind her of happy times.”
He had a point. “She might laugh, anyway. But what if she won’t talk to me? I just want a chance, even if it doesn’t work out.”
Darren and Tim exchanged glances then caught the eyes of their three other friends.
“We may have a plan,” Tim said. “Will you be around here for a while?”
Where did they think he was going? “I’m here until the plane takes off.”
Darren was on his feet in a flash. “Give us like thirty minutes.”
The five guys hurriedly stepped over into a far corner of the gate area. Miguel didn’t know what they were up to, but he was definitely intrigued. And if their plan helped convince Jane to talk to him, then he approved completely.
Jane was stepping out of the women’s restroom and walking back toward the gate. Should he go talk to her as soon as she came near enough, or would he do better to wait a while? If he did the first, he would probably come across as desperate. He was desperate, but he wasn’t big on advertising that. If he waited, he might not get another opportunity.
I can always tell her I’m not trying to be a stalker. Which is pretty much the surest way to make sure I seem like one.
She sat a few booths over and pulled out her phone— the universal signal saying, Do not disturb.
What now? There had to be a way to let her know he was around and wanted to talk without making it seem like he didn’t respect her decision to avoid him. Maybe I’m overthinking this.
She was on her phone. Had she changed her number since they broke up? If she hadn’t, he had an idea.
Miguel pulled out his phone and typed out a text. I’m going to the newsstand. You need anything? He sat with his thumb hovering over send. Chances were good he’d almost passed from kind of annoying to definitely annoying. But a text was less annoying than marching up to her and begging her to talk to him.
He sent the text, then held his breath. He forced himself not to look at her or his phone. Just because he was pathetic, he didn’t have to act pathetic. But man, if her number was different now and he’d just texted some random person...
His phone beeped. Miguel forced himself to pull it out slowly, casually. He held his breath and opened the text.
Are you bribing me with more junk food?
Miguel gave a mental fist pump. Not only did he have her number, but she’d responded with something other than, “Leave me alone, creep.”
He quickly typed back. Or a U-shaped travel pillow. Everyone needs a good travel pillow.
Tim, Darren, and crew were across the gate deep in conversation. Miguel hoped whatever they were planning worked. He wasn’t failing completely, but he could use all the help he could get.
A new text came through. What about a keychain with my name on it? Or I <3 NY?
Jane hated the cheesy touristy souvenirs. A tacky keychain? I don’t know who you are anymore. This was working even better than he’d hoped. She must not have completely hated him if she was joking around.
He watched her out of the corner of his eye. She laughed as she read the text. Miguel couldn’t help grinning. She might not have wanted to marry him and was hesitant to even talk to him, but she was laughing and willingly tex
ting with him.
You. Me. Newsstand. Person who finds the cheesiest souvenir buys the other one a drink.
It was exactly the sort of thing Jane would have suggested while they were dating. You’re on, Schoonenburg.
He didn’t wait to watch her get the text. She was likely watching him already. He jumped up and rushed to the newsstand. Jane arrived behind him.
“No cheating,” he said, pretending to block her view of the rows and rows of souvenirs.
“Just know, if you’re reaching for the Statue of Liberty rubber duck, I can top it with at least a dozen different things.”
He gave her a suspicious look. “Lucy, you have some ’splainin to do,” he said in his Ricky Ricardo voice.
She laughed.
Thank you, Darren!
“You’ve done this souvenir hunt before,” he said.
Her bright eyes sparkled with mischief. “It’s a good way to pass the time in an airport.”
Miguel shook his head. “You’re such a cheater.”
“Maybe, but this cheater’s gonna win.” She folded her arms across her chest and tossed him a look of challenge. “Do your best, Ricardo.”
He looked over the souvenirs then let his hand hover over a neon-green Statue of Liberty bottle opener.
“I could top that with the box of taxi-shaped butter cookies,” Jane said smugly.
He took another look at the selection. “What about that puzzle of the Empire State Building?”
“That’s the Chrysler Building.” She shook her head in disappointment. “I’m going to have to dock you points for getting that wrong.”
“Did I mention I haven’t even left the airport?”
She set her hands on her hips. “No excuses, Santos. Make your choice.”
“Okay, but you have to make your pick without seeing mine.”
They’d always enjoyed goofy games like this. She stepped away, and Miguel got to work. Think cheesy.
Postcards, pencils, mugs. None of those things would cut it. But then he saw exactly what he was looking for: a snow globe with King Kong inside climbing the Empire State Building, overlooking bumper-to-bumper taxis and the Statue of Liberty glued to the top of the clear plastic dome. Around the bottom was the I Love NY logo with the heart symbol replaced with an apple. Oh, yes. This was a winner. He grabbed the globe, and, keeping it carefully out of Jane’s sight, wandered over to the other side of the newsstand.