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On second thought, I realize I’m wrong about the Planes, Trains and Automobiles comparison because Katherine is about as much the opposite of the jovial John Candy as it’s possible to be.
“Tom?” Lolo asks.
I look back to my phone screen.
She bites her lip. “You’ll be here, right?”
“I’ll be there,” I say.
“You already said that.” She closes her eyes for a moment and then opens them with a gentle smile. “I’ll be honest. This is weird for me, and I’m not above needing some reassurance here.”
“I swear I’ll get there by—”
“Not about that,” she cuts in. “About . . .” She exhales. “You’re traveling with your ex-wife, Tom. Can you just . . . you know. Tell me she’s covered in warts? Remind me of all the reasons you hate her guts?”
Lolo says all of this in a joking tone, but the last question is still a jolt.
Hate Katherine?
Have I ever said that?
My stomach clenches a little as I realize I probably have. It’s the sort of thing one says to one’s new girlfriend after breaking the news that he tried and failed at the marriage thing once before. I wanted to reassure Lolo that I was, in fact, marriage material and that it was Katherine who was impossible.
Because damn it. Katherine was impossible. Is impossible.
But hate her? I glance over to where she’s standing with her arms crossed, glaring at me. Her eyes bug out with another impatient Come on!
I almost smile because if I did hate her, nobody could blame me.
“Katherine and I are divorced,” I tell Lolo gently. “That obviously hasn’t changed. And believe me, this entire nightmare has been a painful reminder of all the reasons we’re divorced. Okay?”
Lolo hesitates, then nods. Mollified.
With a last reassurance that I will be there—on Christmas Eve—I end the call and gather Katherine’s charger, which she’s already holding out her hand for.
“You owe me,” she says, shoving the cord into her bag.
“That’s doubtful,” I say, looking pointedly at the injury on her head that started us down this whole path. “But if you’re about to tell me you found me a car or, better yet, a flight, I’ll happily reconsider the point.”
“No car,” she says. “I did some reconnaissance and learned that after all the flights were canceled, all of the cars were gone within half an hour, the employees not long after.”
“And the part where I owe you . . . ?”
Katherine holds up a hand, flashes two . . .
“Bus tickets?” I say incredulously, bending down to read them.
“Just try to be quiet this time,” she says, already wheeling her suitcase in the direction of the exit. “I’d hate for your chattiness to delay us. Again.”
I stare after her for a moment.
The bus?
“Come on. It’ll be an adventure,” Katherine says over her shoulder.
“I think I’ve had enough adventure,” I call after her, even as I start to follow.
I’m a little surprised to find I’m actually smiling. Even more surprised to realize . . . there’s nobody else I’d rather be on this adventure with.
TWENTY-FOUR
KATHERINE
December 23, 10:37 p.m.
“So,” I say, struggling to get comfortable on the bus seat. It’s not quite as bad as I imagined, but I think all the rushing around has aggravated the gash on my back because everything hurts. “Do we want to talk about it?”
Tom glances over. “Talk about what?”
I roll my eyes because he knows I saw a pretty blond woman on his phone screen. I just hope he doesn’t know that it felt like a kick to the stomach.
“Come on, Tom,” I say, a little tired. “You don’t have to be squirrelly about it. I know you’re not a virgin.”
He sighs. “Fine. You want to do this? Yes, okay? I’m seeing someone.”
“For how long?” I can’t help but ask.
Tom fiddles with his watchband. “A year or so.”
I turn my head quickly to look out the window, hoping to hide my surprise, but no luck because he nudges my side with his elbow. “Hey. It’s not that much of a shock, some women actually find me quite likable.”
He’s trying to lighten the mood, and I try to let him.
“It’s not so much that I’m surprised that you found yourself a nice, docile companion.” I frown. “I confess I am a little surprised I haven’t heard about it by now.”
“Really?” His eyebrow lifts. “You think I’d call you after years of no contact? Hey, by the way . . .”
“No. And let’s be clear, if you had, I wouldn’t have taken your call,” I say, lifting a finger to emphasize my point. “It’s just . . . I don’t know. I’d have thought Nancy or Bob. Or your sisters. Even Luke. One of them could have mentioned it.”
I try to keep the hurt out of my voice, but I’m not sure I’m successful. A little warning would have been nice, guys.
