by Janette Rallison, Heather B. Moore, Luisa Perkins, Sarah M. Eden, Annette Lyon, Lisa Mangum
He sent her another text. I got this in the bag, Schoonenburg.
A minute passed. Jane sauntered up, her hands held behind her back. “Ready to be humiliated?”
“I’m always ready to be humiliated.” With a flourish, he presented his snow globe.
Her brows shot up and her eyes pulled wide. “Wow. That is... horrible.”
Miguel grinned. “I know.”
Jane sighed. “A good try.” She held up a Statue of Liberty bobble head.
“That’s it?” He tsked. “A little lame, but not lame enough.”
She held up her right index finger and very slowly pressed a button at the base of the statue. An ear-grating rendition of “New York, New York” echoed out of Lady Liberty. Jane flicked the statue’s crown, and the head bobbled to the beat of the music.
Miguel set his pathetic snow globe on a nearby shelf and stepped closer to Jane. “At least I didn’t go down without a fight.” He tapped the bobble head, setting it wobbling faster.
She grooved a little to the ongoing music.
Miguel laughed; he couldn’t help himself. “I believe I owe you a drink. What’s your poison?”
She jerked her head in the direction of the newsstand refrigerator. “Apple juice?” Her mom was an alcoholic. To Jane, “having a drink” always meant soda or juice. Mamá had always made sure to have Dr. Pepper for Jane at every family gathering.
“Apple juice it is.”
He grabbed a bottle, and they walked together to the cash register. Jane moved to set the Statue of Liberty bobble head back on a shelf.
“Wait,” he said. “That, too.”
She was surprised, but didn’t argue. She set it on the counter beside the juice bottle. “I didn’t realize you liked this so much,” she said with a smile.
“It’s a souvenir of my first trip to New York.” He paid then handed the juice to Jane. “I’ll put it on my coffee table and tell everyone who comes over that you picked it out.”
She bumped him with her shoulder. “Don’t you dare.”
“Sorry, Jane. It’s already decided. Nothing you can do about it.”
They ambled back toward the gate, weaving around people. More and more flights were being delayed, and the airport was getting crowded. “Looks like you might need that U-shaped travel pillow after all,” Miguel said. “We could be camping out here tonight.”
She smiled at him. He’d always loved her smile. Seeing it again gave him hope that there might still be something between them. Friendship, at least.
“It’s good to see you again,” he said. He held his breath, waiting for her to turn on him.
She hesitated only a moment. “You too, Miguel.”
Being with Miguel had once been as easy as breathing. She’d almost forgotten how nice that was. The past twenty minutes, laughing with him at the newsstand and now sitting in a quieter corner of the gate area, just chatting, had reminded her with great force how much she enjoyed his company.
“After all the Funyuns and Oreos, I really shouldn’t still be hungry.” Jane made the declaration as she took another handful of Miguel’s trail mix. “My only excuse is that I missed dinner.”
“Works for me.” He tossed back a handful as well. “Besides, we met over a bag of trail mix, so this isn’t new territory for us.”
“Trail mix and flag football.” She settled more comfortably into the corner between the wall and the booth bench. “It doesn’t get more romantic than that, does it?”
“At least I knew right off how competitive you were. The first thing you said to me was, ‘Well, this should be an easy win.’”
She rolled her eyes. “I wasn’t talking about your team versus mine, and you know it.”
He pretended to really ponder it. “Are you sure? ’Cause that’s not how I remember it.”
She pointed at him with her apple juice bottle. “Then I hope you remember how things went down when my team finally did play yours. That was a bloodbath, my friend.”
He shrugged and took up his water bottle. “It’s hard to be embarrassed by a flag football game after covering yourself in cheese and marinara sauce on a first date.”
Jane laughed at the memory, and at Miguel’s mishap with a very large, very full piece of ravioli.
He swallowed a mouthful of water. “I sat there waiting for you to leave me in the restaurant and never look back.”
“I actually liked you more after the ravioli incident. If you could laugh at something like that, then I figured you were the kind of guy I wanted to know better.”
Why was she admitting all of this now? She knew the answer, even if she wasn’t ready to admit it to anyone else. Her feelings for Miguel had never changed. She’d wanted him in her life, needed him there. If not for his very different view of where their relationship ought to have been, they might have even still been together.
“I told my mom about the ravioli,” Miguel said. “She said, ‘Don’t worry, m’ijo. You bring her here for tamales, and she will forget that you don’t know how to eat food like a real person.’”
Jane loved Miguel’s mom. Had from the very first time they’d met. “That is a far better reception than my mom gave you. ‘You didn’t tell me he was Mexican.’” Jane cringed at the memory. Her mom had made the observation as if Miguel had been a rabid bat or something.
He reached across the table and took her hand in his. “She wasn’t the first person to say something like that to me, querida. And she won’t be the last.”
Jane held fast to his hand, relishing the familiarity of it. “I know, but I still wish she hadn’t said it. Said it or felt it.”
“You can’t change who your parents are. And they shouldn’t be held against you.” He raised her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles.
Jane closed her eyes and let the warmth of that gesture trickle over her. He’d always had a way of melting her, and she wasn’t one whose head was easily turned.
“I have a question, Jane.”
Her heart dropped. She’d sensed this coming. He’d want to talk about what had pulled them apart. She took a breath and opened her eyes once more. Even with the nervousness of broaching this difficult subject, she found tiny sparks of anticipation bursting within her. Whispers of hopefulness tiptoed over her skin. Though she couldn’t imagine how, talking about the chasm between them might help them find a solution. Maybe it was time they tried.
“What’s your question?” She barely managed to speak louder than a whisper. Her pulse strummed in her neck. The thought of talking about what had happened between them scared her, but at the same time she truly hoped he would bring it up.
“If I had come to New York with you like we talked about, where would you have taken me?”
That was it? He wanted to talk about the city? She didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed. Both emotions tugged at her equally. Maybe he wasn’t as interested in trying again as she was.
“Well...” She forced her heart and her head to focus once more. Falling apart wouldn’t help anything. “For starters, I’d take you to the Chrysler Building, since you clearly don’t know what that is.”
He chuckled. She smiled a bit at the sound.
“And Broadway,” she said. “I would definitely take you to a musical on Broadway.”
“Still trying to convert me?” He popped another handful of trail mix into his mouth with his free hand.
She kept her fingers entwined with his. “Absolutely.”
His gaze held hers for a long, drawn-out moment. A question hung there, unspoken, but understood. What is happening between us? She wished she knew exactly.
“Ladies and gentlemen.”
Jane cursed and blessed the gate agent all at the same time.
“As we are certain you have realized from watching the news on the terminal televisions, weather continues to be an issue throughout the country. We apologize for the ongoing wait. However, for those of you at Gate 5 here in the Delta terminal, we have a special treat
for you.”
That sounded intriguing. She shot Miguel a questioning look. He just shrugged and shook his head.
“We have five cast members from the Broadway cast of Mamma Mia! on our flight today, and they have offered to help pass the time by performing for us.”
The gate erupted in applause. Jane squeezed Miguel’s hand. “I love that show,” she whispered to him. “Who do you think the actors are?”
She looked all over the gate, hoping to figure it out. She didn’t have to wait long. A tall guy in skinny jeans and a knit beanie belted out above the crowd, “If you change your mind, I’m the first in line...”
Two other guys joined in with the backup parts, and then another two. Man, they were good. Perfect harmony and perfectly in sync without a single instrument to back them up. The singers moved around, engaging the crowd. In no time, the waiting passengers were clapping along. After a moment, many started singing, something the performers encouraged.
Jane leaned across the table toward Miguel. “This is the best flight delay ever!”
He was grinning in a way that immediately made her wonder what was going on in his head.
“What?” she asked.
“I met those guys earlier, but I had no idea they were Broadway singers.”
One of the performers reached their booth. He held out a hand of invitation to her as he kept singing.
“Go for it,” Miguel encouraged, loudly.
She didn’t need any more of a push. She took the guy’s hand and let him pull her to her feet, where she joined many other passengers dancing and singing along. An instant later, Miguel was up as well, and all five of the performers gathered around him.
Above the ongoing sing-along, the lead called out, “Take it, Miguel.”
Jane started to laugh, trying to imagine him belting out ABBA. For one thing, he likely didn’t know the words. For another, he was not a singer. But her chuckle died in the instant Miguel jumped in as impromptu lead singer.
Though he didn’t get every word right, and he got every note at least a little bit wrong, his version of the chorus was contagiously enthusiastic. He took her hands in his and danced with her. As much as he wasn’t a singer, he was even less a dancer. He threw himself into the moment with a grin.
It was ravioli all over again.
She’d always loved that about him. He could take an embarrassing moment and turn it into a barrel of laughs.
The actual singers took over again. Miguel wrapped his arms around her and spun her about, still dancing in his ridiculously ungraceful way. His laughter was contagious; Jane couldn’t keep singing, she was laughing so hard.
Jane leaned into his embrace, still laughing at his antics as the song ended.
The lead singer stepped up close to the two of them and whispered, “Take a chance on the guy.”
Quick as that, he rejoined the other performers and they launched into “Dancing Queen.” Passengers began arriving from nearby gates for the concert. Jane, however, settled her attention on Miguel.
“Did you put them up to this?” She hadn’t decided what she hoped his answer would be.
He held her tighter. “I didn’t, but I’m not complaining.”
Jane set her arms around his middle. “This doesn’t fix things, you know.”
“I know. But we’re here, together, and you’re smiling at me again. This is the best day I’ve had in three months.”
Me, too.
First chance he got, Miguel would thank Tim and Darren and crew. Serenading Jane with a Broadway musical number had been genius. And, if her willingness to walk the concourse hand-in-hand with him were any indication, it had worked at least a little.
“If Mamá were here, she’d swear this was fate. You and me, at the same airport, on the same flight, with Broadway actors, and a nationwide thunderstorm trapping us here.”
She smiled up at him. “And your mom would bite our heads off if we didn’t take advantage of it.”
He rallied his courage. “Then I’m just going to jump right in and ask my question. What happened between us? How did we fall apart?”
She swung their arms between them. “We didn’t want the same things.”
“You said that before, but it doesn’t explain anything. I don’t know what you want that I don’t.”
She stopped walking. Something like pain pulled at her expression. “You wanted what I didn’t.”
Too many people stood nearby. Miguel motioned her to a quieter corner of the concourse. “What I wanted was to spend the rest of our lives together. You didn’t want that?”
She shook her head, but the pain and confusion hadn’t left her eyes. “I didn’t not want that.”
“Jane.” He sighed in frustration. “That doesn’t make any more sense now than it did then.”
She paced away. “You were so sure about marriage. We were going along fine, getting closer and stronger. You were so sure about marriage being the next step.” She rubbed at her neck as she turned away from him. “You were ready to take that huge leap. I’m not a ‘huge leap’ kind of person, Miguel.”
So it was marriage that had scared her off. “We’d been dating for a whole year, and, like you said, we were happy together. Things were great.”
She gave him an exasperated look. “‘A whole year’ you say, as if that’s an eternity. It took my parents ten years to figure out that they hated each other.”
“And you think that’ll happen to us?”
“No. Maybe.” She held her hands up in helplessness. “My parents regretted marrying each other. My sister hates her ex. None of my grandparents stayed married. Only one aunt is still married, but she and her husband are just as unhappy as all the others were.”
Things were starting to make more sense. “My family doesn’t have a perfect track record,” he said. “But there are a lot of happy marriages there.”
She turned away again. “Rub it in,” she muttered.
“No, that’s not what I meant.” He stepped around and faced her. “I just didn’t think of it that way. Marriage didn’t feel like a huge leap to me, so I didn’t realize it was for you. All you said was you didn’t want that— you didn’t want to marry me. You never said why.”
“What was I supposed to say?” She looked away. “That while you think marriage is this wonderful, happy thing, it scares me half to death? That while I want to believe we would beat the odds, when I look around at my family, I can’t help wondering if those odds are even beatable?”
“Yes. That’s exactly what I needed you to say.” He gently tipped her head back so he could meet her eyes. “If I had realized all of this, I would have happily stepped back and taken things slower. I just didn’t know.”
She didn’t look surprised, thankfully. But she did look embarrassed. “I guess I couldn’t admit that my family and my childhood were this messed up, especially when you were so sure.”
Miguel set his hands on her arms. “What I am sure of is us. All I need from you is to stick it out with me. I’m not asking for huge leaps, just a hop now and then.”
Her brow pulled in tight. “But you shouldn’t have to give up what you want.”
He shook his head at her misunderstanding. “You are what I want, Jane. Us. Together. What can I do to help you believe that?”
She set her hands on either side of his face. “Time,” she said. “And baby steps.”
For a second, the enormity of what she’d said didn’t hit him. Time. She was saying she would give them time. She was coming back. He was getting another chance.
“I’ll give you all the time in the world,” he promised.
Her hands slid to his chest, her eyes remaining locked with his. “I’ve missed you,” she whispered.
He answered, not with words, but with a kiss. A kiss filled with months of missing her and loving her alone, filled with the relief that came from having her back. She wrapped her arms around his neck as the world around them disappeared
“Ladies and gent
lemen, we will begin boarding our Denver flight in about thirty minutes.”
Jane wasn’t quite awake enough to make sense of the announcement at first. She shifted, her back loudly protesting the night she’d spent on the airport floor. She forced one eye open, and then the other. Miguel didn’t look any more awake than she did, and he looked far more uncomfortable.
“I told you not to sleep sitting up,” she said groggily.
“The way they designed this terminal, I don’t know that there were many other options except the floor.” He turned his head from side to side, as if working out a kink. “Booths as far as the eye can see.”
Jane sat up. Miguel’s sweatshirt slid off her shoulders. He’d insisted she use it as a blanket. “We’re boarding in half an hour.”
Miguel stood up and held his hand out to help her to her feet. She stood and stretched.
“I’ll go grab us something to eat.” He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and took off.
She watched him go, smiling to herself. She’d missed him the past three months. How did she ever get lucky enough to find a guy like Miguel, let alone get a second chance with him? She pulled their carryons over to an empty booth. Thankfully, she always kept a brush and gum in her bag.
She’d barely made herself presentable when one of the guys from last night’s Mamma Mia! tribute approached the booth.
“It’s Jane, right?”
She nodded. “Great job last night. You guys were amazing.”
“Thanks. It was fun.” He motioned toward the opposite bench. “Do you mind?”
“No. Go ahead.”
“I’m Tim,” he said, taking a seat. “Is Miguel around?”
“He went to grab us some breakfast.”
“‘Us?’” Tim’s eyes pulled wide with excitement. “Are the two of you together again?”
She nodded. “He said he met you last night. Apparently you talked about a lot.”