Chapter Four
Ididn’t not want it.
Miguel wasn’t sure what she’d meant by that, but he liked what it hinted at. He figured she’d turned down his proposal because she didn’t want to be with him. But that, apparently, wasn’t entirely true. He had to figure out what was true.
He sat in their booth, finishing off his chips, trying to decide what came next.
It had been almost thirty minutes since she’d taken up her bag and offered him a “talk to you later.” He was determined to hold her to that.
Of course, there was a fine line between being determined and being a stalker.
He slouched low on the bench. “Love is a pain,” he muttered.
“Tell me about it,” someone answered behind him.
Miguel looked back. A guy who somehow managed to look fashionable and shockingly comfortable sat there alone, but with several mismatched carry-on bags around his feet.
“I’m Tim,” the guy said.
“Miguel.” He turned a little on the bench, stretching his legs out the length of it, sitting full profile to the guy, who sat the same way.
“How long do you think we’ll be stuck here?” Tim asked.
Miguel motioned with his chin toward the TV. “With that kind of weather, I’d guess all night. If the flight doesn’t end up canceled altogether.”
Tim pushed out a huff of breath. “Just my luck. My first week off in eighteen months, and I’m going to spend it here in the airport.”
“Is New York home or Denver?”
“New York is, Denver was.” Tim crossed his feet at the ankles. “Some friends and I were going to spend some time enjoying nature. LaGuardia’s not exactly what we had in mind.”
Miguel could appreciate that. “This airport is all I’ve seen of New York. It’s not exactly Broadway, but I guess it has its own charm.”
Another guy, dressed in slacks and a tucked-in button-down shirt, joined Tim at his booth. Their styles were different, yet something about the two of them was very similar.
“This is Darren,” Tim said. “Darren, this is Miguel, who just attempted to compare the charms of LaGuardia to Broadway.”
Darren eyed Miguel disapprovingly, though with enough drama to make the look hilarious. “We burn people at the stake for that kind of heresy.”
Miguel silently chuckled. “My girlfriend would probably be the one to light the torch; she’s crazy about Broadway. Well, my ex-girlfriend. But I’m working on that.”
Tim’s brow shot upward. “Ah. Now we’ve stumbled on the reason for your earlier declaration about love.” He turned to Darren. “That’s how I met Miguel. He was emoting about the pains of love.”
“‘Emoting’?” Miguel laughed. “I only said four words.”
Darren shook his head. “You can emote without any words if you try hard enough. But back to the ‘I’m working on that’ part. You’re trying to win your ex back?”
Miguel gave the two a very quick, very vague version of his current predicament, minus the personal reasons for their breakup. He found in them a very sympathetic audience.
“And she’s here?” Tim’s eyes darted about, looking for her, though he couldn’t have known what she looked like. “That is fate. You can’t ignore fate.”
“Fate seems to be ignoring me,” Miguel said. “We talked for a while over junk food, but as soon as I brought up anything even kind of personal, she took off.”
Darren scratched at his chin. “Took off in a huff, or just took off?”
Miguel didn’t think she’d been in a huff. But he wasn’t really sure.
Darren waved over three more guys. Anyone looking would have pegged the five of them as a group. Same commitment to style, same mannerisms. “Miguel here is trying to make his ex-girlfriend his ex-ex-girlfriend. And he is failing miserably.”
“Thanks,” Miguel muttered.
Darren waved it off. “He hasn’t seen her since she broke up with him, and then, boom, here she is waiting for the same flight.”
One of the newcomers turned wide eyes on Miguel. “This is meant to be. You have to do something.”
Miguel held his hands up in a gesture of helplessness.
“Chocolates?” Wide Eyes suggested.
“She’s more of a salty junk food kind of person. But I tried that already and didn’t get very far.”
“Flowers,” Tim said. “Oh, but where would you get them here?”
“Maybe he knows origami,” one of the others suggested.
Miguel just shook his head.
Two of the new arrivals sat at his booth and furrowed their brows in thought. “What are some of her favorite things?” one asked. “Besides all the junk food you already bought.”
“Food and New York City, especially Broadway.”
“Plays or musicals?” Darren pressed.
“Musicals.” Miguel knew that for a fact. “But as you’ve already explained, LaGuardia is about as different from Broadway as you can get.”
“How did you ask her forgiveness when you were still together?” Tim asked.
“Homemade tamales. A foot rub. Begging forgiveness in my best Ricky Ricardo accent.”
His five newest best friends pondered his list. Authentic, homemade tamales, they acknowledged, couldn’t be had in an airport terminal. Not one of them recommended a public foot rub. But they seemed in favor of his Ricky Ricardo impression. Darren, especially.
“It’s like an inside joke for the two of you,” Darren said. “Go with that. It’ll remind her of happy times.”
He had a point. “She might laugh, anyway. But what if she won’t talk to me? I just want a chance, even if it doesn’t work out.”
Darren and Tim exchanged glances then caught the eyes of their three other friends.
“We may have a plan,” Tim said. “Will you be around here for a while?”
Where did they think he was going? “I’m here until the plane takes off.”
Darren was on his feet in a flash. “Give us like thirty minutes.”
The five guys hurriedly stepped over into a far corner of the gate area. Miguel didn’t know what they were up to, but he was definitely intrigued. And if their plan helped convince Jane to talk to him, then he approved completely.
Jane was stepping out of the women’s restroom and walking back toward the gate.
Should he go talk to her as soon as she came near enough, or would he do better to wait a while?
If he did the first, he would probably come across as desperate.
He was desperate, but he wasn’t big on advertising that.
If he waited, he might not get another opportunity.
I can always tell her I’m not trying to be a stalker. Which is pretty much the surest way to make sure I seem like one.
She sat a few booths over and pulled out her phone— the universal signal saying Do not disturb.
What now? There had to be a way to let her know he was around and wanted to talk without making it seem like he didn’t respect her decision to avoid him. Maybe I’m overthinking this.
She was on her phone. Had she changed her number since they broke up? If she hadn’t, he had an idea.
Miguel pulled out his phone and typed out a text.
I’m going to the newsstand. You need anything?
He sat with his thumb hovering over send.
Chances were good he’d almost passed from kind of annoying to definitely annoying.
But a text was less annoying than marching up to her and begging her to talk to him.
He sent the text, then held his breath. He forced himself not to look at her or his phone. Just because he was pathetic, he didn’t have to act pathetic. But man, if her number was different now and he’d just texted some random person...
His phone beeped. Miguel forced himself to pull it out slowly, casually. He held his breath and opened the text.
Are you bribing me with more junk food?
Miguel gave a mental fist pump. Not only did he have her number, but she’d responded with something other than “Leave me alone, creep.”
He quickly typed back. Or a U-shaped travel pillow. Everyone needs a good travel pillow.
Tim, Darren, and crew were across the gate deep in conversation. Miguel hoped whatever they were planning worked. He wasn’t failing completely, but he could use all the help he could get.
A new text came through. What about a keychain with my name on it? Or I <3 NY?
Jane hated the cheesy touristy souvenirs. A tacky keychain? I don’t know who you are anymore. This was working even better than he’d hoped. She must not have completely hated him if she was joking around.
He watched her out of the corner of his eye. She laughed as she read the text. Miguel couldn’t help grinning. She might not have wanted to marry him and was hesitant to even talk to him, but she was laughing and willingly texting with him.
Her response came quickly: You. Me. Newsstand. Person who finds the cheesiest souvenir buys the other one a drink.
It was exactly the sort of thing Jane would have suggested while they were dating. You’re on, Schoonenburg.
He didn’t wait to watch her get the text. She was likely watching him already. He jumped up and rushed to the newsstand. Jane arrived behind him.
“No cheating,” he said, pretending to block her view of the rows and rows of souvenirs.
“Just know, if you’re reaching for the Statue of Liberty rubber duck, I can top it with at least a dozen different things.”
He gave her a suspicious look. “Lucy, you have some ’splainin to do,” he said in his Ricky Ricardo voice.
She laughed.
Thank you, Darren!
“You’ve done this souvenir hunt before,” he said.
Her bright eyes sparkled with mischief. “It’s a good way to pass the time in an airport.”
Miguel shook his head. “You’re such a cheater.”
“Maybe, but this cheater’s gonna win.” She folded her arms across her chest and tossed him a look of challenge. “Do your best, Ricardo.”
He looked over the souvenirs then let his hand hover over a neon-green Statue of Liberty bottle opener.
“I could top that with the box of taxi-shaped butter cookies,” Jane said smugly.
He took another look at the selection. “What about that puzzle of the Empire State Building?”
“That’s the Chrysler Building.” She shook her head in disappointment. “I’m going to have to dock you points for getting that wrong.”
“Did I mention I haven’t even left the airport?”
She set her hands on her hips. “No excuses, Santos. Make your choice.”
“Okay, but you have to make your pick without seeing mine.”
They’d always enjoyed goofy games like this. She stepped away, and Miguel got to work. Think cheesy.
Postcards, pencils, mugs. None of those things would cut it.
But then he saw exactly what he was looking for: a snow globe with King Kong inside climbing the Empire State Building, overlooking bumper-to-bumper taxis and the Statue of Liberty glued to the top of the clear plastic dome.
Around the bottom was the I Love NY logo with the heart symbol replaced with an apple.
Oh, yes. This was a winner. He grabbed the globe, and, keeping it carefully out of Jane’s sight, wandered over to the other side of the newsstand.
He sent her another text. I got this in the bag, Schoonenburg.
A minute passed. Jane sauntered up, her hands held behind her back. “Ready to be humiliated?”
“I’m always ready to be humiliated.” With a flourish, he presented his snow globe.
Her brows shot up and her eyes pulled wide. “Wow. That is... horrible.”
Miguel grinned. “I know.”
Jane sighed. “A good try.” She held up a Statue of Liberty bobble head.
“That’s it?” He tsked. “A little cheesy, but not cheesy enough.”
She held up her right index finger and very slowly pressed a button at the base of the statue. An ear-grating rendition of “New York, New York” echoed out of Lady Liberty. Jane flicked the statue’s crown, and the head bobbled to the beat of the music.
Miguel set his pathetic snow globe on a nearby shelf and stepped closer to Jane. “At least I didn’t go down without a fight.” He tapped the bobble head, setting it wobbling faster.
She grooved a little to the ongoing music.
Miguel laughed; he couldn’t help himself. “I believe I owe you a drink. What’s your poison?”
She jerked her head in the direction of the newsstand refrigerator. “Apple juice?” Her mom was an alcoholic. To Jane, “having a drink” always meant soda or juice. Mamá had always made sure to have Dr. Pepper for Jane at every family gathering.
“Apple juice it is.”
He grabbed a bottle, and they walked together to the cash register. Jane moved to set the Statue of Liberty bobble head back on a shelf.
“Wait,” he said. “That, too.”
She was surprised, but didn’t argue. She set it on the counter beside the juice bottle. “I didn’t realize you liked this so much,” she said with a smile.
“It’s a souvenir of my first trip to New York.” He paid then handed the juice to Jane. “I’ll put it on my coffee table and tell everyone who comes over that you picked it out.”
She bumped him with her shoulder. “Don’t you dare.”
“Sorry, Jane. It’s already decided. Nothing you can do about it.”
They ambled back toward the gate, weaving around people. More and more flights were being delayed, and the airport was getting crowded. “Looks like you might need that U-shaped travel pillow after all,” Miguel said. “We could be camping out here tonight.”
She smiled at him. He’d always loved her smile. Seeing it again gave him hope that there might still be something between them. Friendship, at least.
“It’s good to see you again,” he said. He held his breath, waiting for her to turn on him.
She hesitated only a moment. “You too, Miguel.”