Snow(4)

“Prophetic? You mean you were on a submarine this afternoon? That actually happened?”

“Lord,” she groaned, rolling her eyes playfully. A coy smile overtook her features and he felt something squash that uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. She held out one hand—the one flaunting the massive engagement ring—to address the overcrowded barroom. “Are you really that literal? I’m talking about here, right here in this airport.” She frowned but meant nothing by it. “Where’s your sense of symbolism?”

“I guess I’m not very symbolic.”

“Well, then,” she motored on…then paused, her eyes finally settling on him. They were brilliant aquamarine eyes, shimmering like Caribbean water. “Hey,” she said, her voice softer, “I’m sorry. I’m going off like a firecracker. I’m Kate Jansen.”

“Hey, Kate.” They shook hands. “Todd Curry.”

“Thanks for the drink, Todd.”

“No sweat.”

“I guess you’re one of the terminal,” she said.

“Terminal?”

“A casualty of all these cancellations.”

“Oh.” He smiled. “Terminal. Very clever. I get it.”

“Where’re you headed?”

“Well,” he said, glancing again at his wristwatch, “I was supposed to be on the four-thirty flight to Des Moines, which is now the six-thirty flight…”

“Then we’re both afflicted with the same ailment.” Again, she clinked her glass against his, then took another strong swallow.

“So you were on that flight, too, huh?”

“Guilty as charged. Was tasked with spending Christmas with my fiancé and his family, but I guess it’s in the gods’ hands now.”

“You say ‘tasked’ like it’s some sort of castigation.”

“Oh,” she said, nodding fervently, “it is. His family is atrocious. They’re like the villains in a Charles Dickens novel, all hunched over and swarthy, wrapped in drab, colorless clothing and screaming at peasant children.”

“They sound marvelous.”

She exhaled and he could smell her perfume—something sweet, like candy—mingled with the Midori on her breath. “But I love the son of a bitch, so I put up with them.”

She caught him looking at her diamond ring but didn’t say anything about it. Todd quickly jerked his eyes away and feigned interest in the newscast on the television. Snow, snow, and more snow. Damn it, he thought, still picturing Justin in his Turbo Dogs pajamas. I tried, buddy. I tried.

“How about you?” she said. “Is Des Moines your final destination?”

“Yes.”

“Going home?”

“Visiting my son.”

“So you’re divorced?”

“Yes. He lives with his mother.”

“You two get along? You and the mother, I mean. Not the kid.”

“No.”

“Your fault or hers?”

“That we don’t get along?”

“The divorce in general,” she clarified. “Your fault or hers?”

“I…it was mutual, I guess.”

“Mutual?” She looked skeptical.

“It just didn’t take.”

She laughed once, sharply. More heads turned in her direction. “You say it like a surgeon who’s just botched an operation. ‘The transplant didn’t take.’”

“What I meant was we both agreed it was for the best.”

“So you both equally agreed that she’d keep the kid?”

Her boldness shocked him. “Wow. You go right for the jugular.”

“Oh?” She seemed genuinely surprised. “I’m sorry, was that rude? I get weird talking about divorce. My parents went through a messy one when I was eleven and I took turns playing the hostage for each of them. I’m sure it f*cked me up in more ways than one, too. You should have seen me in college, boy.” She lowered her voice a bit. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“It’s okay. I guess there’s no such thing as an easy divorce.”

Kate Jansen offered up that same coy little grin. “Or an easy childhood.”

This made him think again of Justin. What the hell was he doing? It was Christmas Eve and he was drinking scotch in an airport bar while chatting up some stranger. He set his drink on the bar and picked up his laptop. “It was nice meeting you, Kate, but I should go check on my flight.”

“Our flight,” she corrected.

“That’s right. You coming?”

“I think I’ll stay here and finish my drink. Hate to break it to you, bub, but I don’t think we’re going anywhere tonight.”

“I hope you’re wrong, honey,” he said, dumping enough bills onto the bar to account for both drinks. “Guess I’ll see you around.”

“Save me a bag of peanuts.”

He pushed quickly through the crowd, the laptop’s carrying case thumping numbly against one knee while he perspired in his coat, hoping against all rationale that the goddamn flight wouldn’t be cancelled, wouldn’t be cancelled, wouldn’t be cancelled.