“Katherine,” I say, keeping my tone mild. “You’ve got to get a grip.”
“But we were so close,” she says, her voice sounding as desperate and frustrated as I feel.
Were we, though? We have no passports, no driver’s licenses, no credit cards. Even if we’d made it to the airport in time, being allowed on the plane would have been a long shot.
Katherine rubs her forehead as Nat King Cole croons in the background about being home for Christmas. He’s basically mocking us at this point.
June is not unsympathetic to our plight because she leans across the counter, nudging a bowl of peppermints our way with a kind expression. “Listen, loves. I know it’s hard to be away from family at Christmas, but at least you have each other, and that’s something.”
“No, actually, we don’t,” Katherine says, never ceasing her forehead rubbing, which seems to have more to do with weary resignation than the concussion. “Not anymore.”
There it is again. That tight feeling in my chest has been present more often than not in the past twenty-four hours.
“Hey,” I tell Katherine quietly. “Listen. We’ll figure something out.”
“Like what, Tom?” Her head snaps up, her eyes blazing with temper and something else. “What will we figure out? In case you haven’t noticed, there’s not a whole lot going on at this hopscotch course they call an airport.”
I shoot June a silent apology, but the older lady bats it away. “Holidays are stressful. You know, if you two have nowhere to go, I’m due over at my son and daughter-in-law’s. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind squeezing in two extra spots at the table . . .”
“We appreciate that,” I say before Katherine’s Grinch side comes back out. “But we couldn’t possibly intrude on your family. And if you need to get going, we’ll understand completely.”
Katherine makes a grumbling noise but thankfully keeps her mouth shut.
“Well, I do need to be heading out. I have to stop by home and pick up my famous cheese ball.” She pulls on her coat and hoists a huge poinsettia into her arms as she frowns at us. “You’re sure you won’t come?”
“Positive. But thank you.”
She shakes her head. “Well. Okay. The airport stays open twenty-four seven. There’s a vending machine, and the security guard if you need anything.”
“Yes, we need something. An airplane—”
I put a hand over Katherine’s mouth and smile at June. “You’ve been very helpful.” Katherine bites my finger, and I push my palm more firmly. “Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas to you as well, dears. I know it seems like the pits now, but trust me, it’s always the things that don’t go according to plan that you end up remembering!”
Isn’t that the truth, I think with a sideways look at Katherine.
“Hey, June?” Katherine calls after the departing woman. “Is it okay if we use the phone?”
“Of course! Just be sure to set it back to voicemail after. Big blue button.”
“Will do. Merry Christmas,” Katherine says.
I nudge her with my shoulder. “Look at you, Scrooge! Showing some personal growth and Christmas spirit.”
“Yeah, I’m practically Mrs. Claus,” she grumbles, pulling the phone off the desk and up onto the counter.
“Who are you calling?”
“Nobody.” She holds out the receiver to me. “You’re calling Lolo.”
I jolt a little, wondering what it says about my situation that my ex-wife thought about calling my girlfriend and I did not.
And still, I hesitate.
Katherine makes an impatient noise and grabs my wrist, slapping the receiver in my palm. “Man up, Walsh.”
I take a deep breath and dial.
Lolo doesn’t pick up until the third ring. “Hello?” Her voice is hesitant, likely braced for spam or bad news, given the unfamiliar number. On the second one, I can deliver.
“Hey. Lo. It’s me.”
“Tom? Where are you calling from?”
“The airport. An airport,” I amend with a look around at the tiny space.
“Is your cell phone dead?”
“It’s . . . lost?”
“Lost,” she repeats, her voice flat. “And let me guess. You’re delayed.”
I don’t say anything. I don’t have to.
“Tom, this whole thing—”
“I know. Believe me. I know.” I drop my chin toward my chest and close my eyes.
“I’ve been patient,” Lolo says in a voice I haven’t heard from her often, one I imagine she uses with the kids in her class. “I’ve been understanding. But with all that’s happened, I can’t help but wonder if the universe is trying to tell us something.”
Of course not. Or if it is, it’s only that we can weather anything.
But the reassuring words don’t come out.
Because the truth is, I’ve been doing some wondering of my own.
Like why I haven’t minded being without my phone the past couple hours, forcefully untethered from the woman I’m supposed to love. Or why I wasn’t that disappointed that we missed the one and only plane.
Or, most alarmingly of all, why I’m not gutted to have lost the ring.
“Tom.” Katherine pokes my arm. “You’re zoning out,” she says in a loud whisper.
“Is that Katherine?” Lolo asks with the slightest bite.
“Yeah,” I say tiredly.
Lolo exhales. “See, Tom, this is exactly what I mean. How am I supposed to believe—”
Katherine holds out her hand. “Give me the phone.”
I shove her hand away. “Pass.”
“Okay.” She lets her hand drop, and I should have known better than to docilely agree because the second I turn away, she pounces, grabbing the receiver right out of my hand.
“Hi, Lolo? Okay, first, I’ve been dying to know. Is that your real name?”
Oh, Jesus. I make a grab for the phone, but Katherine moves with surprising grace for a woman who’s been in two recent car accidents.
“Anyway, doesn’t matter,” Katherine is saying. “So, this is Katherine. Or, as you perhaps know me, The One Who Came Before?”
“Give. Me. The. Phone,” I say, enunciating every word.
Katherine ignores me and continues. “Listen. Lo. Can I call you that? Woman to woman? I get it. I can’t even fathom how much this sucks. Actually, you know what? I can. I can because I was married to Tom, and I know that’s not what you want to be reminded of right now, but trust me, that’s actually a positive. Because I know what he’s like as a partner, and Lolo? He’s one of the good ones.”
I start to reach for the phone again, but I go still at her words, my heartbeat thrumming a little too fast when she turns toward me. “No, scratch that,” Katherine says, her tone softening along with her expression. “He’s one of the great ones. You would not believe the hell he’s put himself through to get back to you. And you’d be a fool to let him get away.”
Katherine sharply pivots away from me. “Don’t make the same mistake I made.”