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"Thank you so much for watching them," she says and turns around before I can bother to say, "You're welcome," which I don't really have any intention of doing.
I bite my tongue. I haven't slept or showered in a day and a half. I've eaten more airline peanuts than I care to think about and one stale sandwich I got from a cooler in the airport in Atlanta. Or was it Memphis? Wait, I didn’t go to Memphis. Or did I?
Finally I'm out of the plane and into the terminal. I trot toward the tram that will take me to the other terminal. Once I hit cell service my phone pings with several messages.
Two are from Boone with a combination of apologies and asking if I've gotten to Connecticut yet.
One is from the airline. My flight is overbooked and if I don't check in at the gate within four minutes my seat will be given to someone else.
Fuck.
I jump on the tram and pray for it to hurry. I catch a break and the gate I need is the first stop. I rush for the door and a woman in a wheelchair says, "Would you mind helping me? I seem to be stuck. I just need someone to get me over the doorway and then I'll be okay."
Damn. I can't ignore her.
"I'd be happy to ma'am."
It might not have been the smoothest ride she'd ever had, but I got her out and onto the glossy floor of the airport terminal and then I trotted off toward my gate.
"Adam Starr. Aquarius Airlines is paging Hartford bound passenger Adam Starr. Please report to Gate G7 immediately to claim your seat before it's given away."
My heart thuds in my chest and I take off at a full run.
If only I'd seen the guy mopping the floors.
* * *
KIT
"The weather is really getting bad, Mother. Don't you think we should cancel the party?"
"Nonsense, Kit. It's a little storm. We're New Englanders. We're used to this sort of thing. Besides, the party isn't for another four hours. It's bound to clear up by then."
I point to the window. "Have you looked outside?"
She's arranging flowers on the dining room table. An assortment of poinsettias in white, red and pink. It really is very lovely and for a fleeting moment I think about Mary Kay back in Chickadee Ridge and the arrangements she made for the barbecue.
No. Stop.
I shake my head as if to toss the images from my brain.
"What do you think?" Mother asks, stepping back to examine her handiwork. "I think it looks perfect," she answers her own question, no need for any input from me, and moves to rearrange ornaments on the Christmas tree in the corner.
Everything must be just so for her.
The wind howls and the windows rattle. I pull back the curtains so she can see out into the gray late-afternoon sky. "Mother," I implore, "take a look. A real look."
She rolls her eyes but comes to stand next to me, glaring out at the sky which dared to mess with her plans. "It's not so bad. When did you become such a ‘fraidy-cat about the weather?"
I pull my phone from the pocket of my jeans and show her the screen. "I'm not a ‘fraidy-cat. The National Weather Service has issued a winter storm warning. See?" I point to the haze of red over the entire area. "Do you mean to tell me that no one on the guest list has called to say they aren't coming?"
She gasps and rears back in horror, hand to her heart. "They wouldn't dare! This is always the best party of the entire holiday season and this year even more so, with the added bonus of an engagement announcement." The corners of her mouth turn up in delight at the prospect.
My stomach clenches and I turn away. I don't want her to see my reaction. I simply don't have the energy to deal with whatever grand plans she has for me, my wedding, my life.
I'd thought, B.A.—Before Adam—that Peter would be a great match for me. And probably, if I'd never made the trip to North Starr Ranch. Never gone into the bar in The Hamilton Hotel, life would be perfect, the way my mother insists it should be. I'd be thrilled at the prospect of becoming Mrs. Peter Brinkman and joining our two families together.
And I like Peter. He's fun to be with and though there's no combustion like there was with Adam, he's pleasant company. I've managed to keep him at bay, sex-wise. Yeah, we've done some kissing and stuff but he's not pushing it. In my life B.A., I'd have panicked over that. Worried about why he didn't find me appealing. Maybe I'd get a new hairstyle or some sexy clothes, but now...well, now I'm relieved.
