Chapter Three
The fact that Miguel knew her favorite junk food was not reason enough to stay and talk to him. Yet Jane sat across from him in the booth without further argument. He’d said they wouldn’t touch on difficult topics, and she would hold him to that.
She pulled her share of the goodies over to her side of the table. “How is your grandma Alena?” she asked as she opened the Funyuns. “Is she still fighting to keep living on her own?”
He opened his Doritos. “She moved in with my aunt Rita last month.”
“Rita. That’s the daughter she—”
“—claims to have adopted at a pet shelter.” Miguel’s dark eyes danced. He’d always been the most naturally happy person she’d ever known. “Mamá made them both go in and talk to the priest; that way, when they kill each other, it won’t be on her conscience.”
She loved Miguel’s family. They were funny and quirky and a breath of fresh air.
He paused with a chip partway to his mouth. “How’s work? Did they ever merge those two branches?”
Of course he remembered that. She’d dated a few guys who probably couldn’t have come up with the name of the company she worked for, let alone what was going on with her job. Miguel had never been like that.
“They did. And I got promoted to account executive.”
He quickly swallowed a mouthful of soda. “That’s awesome. Did they give you a raise, too?”
She nodded. “And a bigger cubicle. I’m not corner-office material yet, but I’m working on it.”
“As hard as you work, you’ll have that corner office in no time.”
She dug into her Funyuns. “Tell that to my family. They all either think I’m in a dead-end career or I’m working too many hours. It’s the only thing they debate as often as which parent everyone dislikes the most.”
“Do either of your folks claim to have picked you up at a pet shelter? ’Cause that’d make the choice a little easier.”
She didn’t often laugh about the mess that was her family, but she did then. And she had many times over the year she and Miguel had been together. Somehow he managed to joke about it without making light of it all.
“I’ll have to ask whichever one of my parents I spend Fourth of July with,” she said between sips.
“Dad has planned this big elaborate barbecue. But Mom found out and announced she’s going to host a dinner party at the exact same time.
It’s like the Hunger Games, except everyone is begging to get killed off. ”
Miguel pointed a Dorito at her. “What you need is to get yourself invited to something else that day so you don’t have to go to either one.”
“Sounds like I need to sign up for Facebook Marketplace so I can search for ‘Parties for People Avoiding Their Feuding Families.’ That ought to do it.”
His warm, genuine chuckle rumbled through him. “That’s a good way to get yourself murdered. It’d be a lot safer to come to my family’s Fourth of July party. You remember it from last year. A ton of people and a ton of food.”
“We’re not— we were dating last year, so it was okay for me to go then.”
He was shaking his head before she finished her protest. “No one’ll care if we’re not there as a couple. I mean, they’ll care because they’re all still in mourning over our breakup. Mamá lights a candle for the two of us every time she goes to Mass.”
If not for the laughter in his tone, she might have been worried. Either he was indifferent, or he thought that seeking the help of the divine for an ended relationship was taking things a little far.
“Fresh salsa again this year?” She was honestly considering it a little. A very little.
“And live music.” He wiggled his eyebrows as if offering a temptation she couldn’t possibly resist. “And, as if that weren’t enough, at least half of the people there will speak entirely in Spanish. You won’t understand a word.”
She finished off her Dr. Pepper. “I wonder what it would take to get my family to talk only in languages I don’t understand.”
“Things sound even worse with your family than they were before.” He set aside his snacks and gave her his full attention. “Are you all right?”
She slumped a little on the bench. “It’s really not any different than before. I guess I just notice it more than I used to.” Knowing Miguel’s family and watching how they interacted with one another had changed the way she saw her own family.
“Then maybe it’s a good thing you’ve been away from them the past few days.”
It was, and yet...
“What is it?” he asked.
The confession that came next surprised her. “This trip was a little lonely. I always come here alone, but I really felt it this time.”
He reached across the table and set his hand on hers. She ought to have pulled away, but found she didn’t have the heart. His touch was as gentle and tender as she remembered, and she’d missed it. She adjusted her hand enough to thread her fingers through his.
“Where did we go wrong, Jane?” he asked quietly. “We were always so good together.”
Regret trickled over her. “We just wanted different things, I guess.”
His brow pulled downward. His gaze grew more intense. “You didn’t want to spend the rest of your life with me.”
That wasn’t it exactly. “I didn’t not want it.”
He blinked a few times in rapid succession. “But you turned me down. You said no.”
She realized quite suddenly how personal their discussion had become. This was exactly the topic she’d wanted to avoid. Thinking about their breakup made her emotional, and she wasn’t about to start crying in a crowded airport.
She pulled her hand back. “Thanks for the snack break.”
“Jane, I—”
“Ladies and gentlemen, we have updated flight information for our Denver passengers.”
Jane turned her gaze to the gate counter.
“Due to ongoing weather problems throughout much of the Midwest, delays and cancellations are widespread throughout the country. The delay of this evening’s Denver flight has been extended. We do not, at this time, have an estimate for when the flight will depart.”
Not even an estimate? That is not a good omen.
“Passengers wishing to rebook for a future day may speak with any of the gate agents who have now arrived for that purpose. For those choosing to wait, we appreciate your continued patience, and we will keep you updated. Thank you.”
A few passengers jumped up immediately; others seemed to be debating.
An indefinite delay most likely meant an eventual cancellation.
But there was still a chance. And rebooking wouldn’t necessarily make a difference.
If flights were being delayed and canceled across the country, travel would be chaotic for days.
She met Miguel’s eyes once more. What did he mean to do about his flight? If they both intended to stay and wait out the delay, that’d likely mean more awkward conversations, more confronting her own regrets and confusion. She wasn’t sure she was ready for that.
But airlines didn’t provide hotel accommodations when weather was to blame for flight problems. And this trip hadn’t been business. She’d come to clear her head and try to get herself back on track. She’d paid for the entire thing herself. She didn’t have the budget for another night at a hotel.
“What are you planning to do?” she asked. “Wait it out or reschedule?”
His smile was slow and soft. “I have all the time in the world, Jane. I’m willing to wait.”
She shouldn’t have liked the sound of that, but she did. She very much did.