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Nodding, Gabriel loaded Donald up and then filled his own arms to help carry the bedding inside. All around the baggage claim were at least one hundred cots all lined in neat rows. “Why baggage claim?” he asked. “This has gotta be the coldest part of the building.”
“That’s why we needed the extra blankets.” He shook his head. “We had two muggings, a theft, and an argument that turned into a full-blown fist fight over a charging station, of all the bullshit you could get mad about. And it all happened at the same time. We were running all over the place.”
“‘Tis the damned season,” Gabriel murmured.
“I know, right? So, management decided that we needed to centralize everyone so it’d be easier to keep an eye on things. There’s one other terminal that still has people, cuz they were already settled in for the night, but this is most of the stranded.” Donald directed him to follow as he made his way to the far side of the room. “These last two rows don’t have blankets or pillows. If you could…”
Nodding, he distributed the bedding to weary, angry, and sad travelers, who mostly thanked him kindly. When he finished, he was left holding one blanket. Donald walked over holding one pillow. “That’s everyone taken care of, I think.”
Gabriel nodded and looked around the cavernous space. He hadn’t seen Talia. “Listen, there’s a woman here that I—I know. I brought her some food…”
“What she look like?”
“Um, black. Tall-ish. Had um, locs with gold things in it.” He paused. “Beautiful smile.”
Donald gave him a knowing look. “Oh, white guy’s got it bad for a sister, huh?”
“Shut up and tell me where she is, I know you know.”
The other man grinned. “I do know. Go get the food.”
When he came back inside, Donald walked him to the far end of the room and there she was. Sitting cross-legged on a cot, with her coat still on, holding up her phone and speaking to the screen.
As they got closer, her words carried to them. “It’s been a hard day. I’m exhausted.” She sniffled and wiped tears off her cheeks. “I was trying to stay positive and tough, but then I remembered that I don’t have to do that. I can go ahead and wallow a little. It’s healthy. So honestly, this sucks.” She sighed heavily. “Anyway, I wish everyone well on this fine Christmas Eve-eve.” She paused. “It’s after midnight though, which makes it technically the 24th. So just a happy Christmas Eve, then. I hope you have nice warm beds and something delicious to eat.” She held up a barely touched sandwich. “Remember to follow Mama Talia’s advice. Care for yourself and set good boundaries. Do something kind when you feel unkind. And most importantly, keep being the absolutely glorious magical bitches I know that you can…” she trailed off and stared at him as he approached. “Hey,” she said. “What are you doing here?”
“Um, I—I brought extra bedding from the hotel. For the people here. And I brought food. For you. Us, if you’re okay with it.” He closed his eyes and tried to rally his power of speech. “Please don’t eat that sandwich. It could make you sick.”
He felt a little woozy at the sight of her shiny smile. She glanced back at her phone. “Oh shit. I didn’t mean to record that.” She fussed with her phone for a second and then gave up. “Oh well. A little mystery for my viewers.”
Donald shifted from foot to foot, and dropped the remaining pillow onto her cot. “Ma’am, are you alright with this fool being here and bringing you food?”
She nodded. “I am.”
He bobbed his head at her. “Alright then, I’ll be over there, by the exit, if you need anything. Don’t let the security shirt he’s wearing make you think he can get away with any shit.” He pointed at his dark eyes and then pointed the same two fingers at Gabriel. “I’m watching him.”
Laughing, Gabriel played with the edges of the blanket he was holding. “Um, viewers, you said?”
“Yeah, I’m sort of a…I don’t even know what you’d call it. I make mental wellness videos.”
“For magical bitches?”
“Exactly.” She patted the space beside her.
He hesitated. “I don’t think that cot was meant to hold my weight and yours.”
“Oh!” She hopped off it. “We can sit on the floor. I was right, it’s definitely more comfortable anyway.”
She grabbed the thin blanket the airport had provided and spread it out on the floor, picnic style, while he pulled out the styrofoam containers and handed her two of them. She peeked inside and her face lit up. “A salad sounds so good right now, but french fries sound even better. This is great!”
He sat cross legged in front of her. “Burger and fries are probably a little cold.”
“I’m not picky.” She took a huge bite of salad, followed by some fries. “Cold fries are still fries.” Her eyes went all shimmery. “Thank you. Really.”
“No worries.” He opened his container and his stomach growled audibly.
She reached across the space between them and patted his abdomen. “Food’s comin’, buddy.”
He laughed. His belly felt warm where she’d touched it. Ordinarily he would have been a little self-conscious. His stomach wasn’t quite as muscled and flat as it had been in his twenties or even his thirties. The Marines had kept him hard. Now that he was out, he still went to the gym and tried to keep up, but ever since he hit forty-two, things had gotten a touch softer. “You’re…different,” he said.
