Chapter 14
“What do you mean it’s gone missing?” Nate rubbed his forehead. After missing the red-eye last night, he thought he’d been fortunate to catch a flight out of Omaha earlier this morning. Now he wasn’t so sure.
He’d always heard about bad things coming in threes. Funeral. ER visit. Why did he get the sense he’d just found number three? “All I had was a carry-on, plus my personal belongings bag.”
He’d specifically crammed everything into a carry-on to avoid this scenario.
“Sir, you don’t need to raise your voice,” said the airline worker in an extremely loud voice.
“I do, actually.” Nate motioned over his shoulder to where a high-pitched beeping sound emitted from behind a tarp that partially hid a construction-zone area next to baggage claim.
Perhaps flying into one of the country’s newest and smallest commercial airports hadn’t been the best move.
Looked like they were still working out a lot of kinks.
“Look, I’m not mad,” Nate said. “I’m just trying to understand how it could’ve gone missing. It was a carry-on. I have something very important inside that I can’t afford to lose.”
“Okay, sir. Okay. Time to calm down.” The airline worker, a broad-shouldered woman wearing a name tag that read Hi, I’m: doing my best, pushed her braids over her shoulder, then began typing, her pink nails especially bright against the keyboard.
“As you can tell, we’ve still got a lot going on right now. Everybody just needs to stay calm.”
“I am being calm.”
“Sarcasm will get you nowhere.”
“I’m not—”
“Tell me again what the problem is,” she said, cutting him off.
“I can’t find my carry-on.”
“Where did you leave it?” she said in the sort of tone that suggested she didn’t have time for this.
“With you,” Nate said.
“With me? Couldn’t be.”
“Then who?” Nate stared a beat, not sure how they’d gone from discussing his missing luggage to performing Who Stole the Cookie from the Cookie Jar?. “What’s your name?” he asked, hoping to restart this whole conversation on a different foot.
Her eyes narrowed like she thought he was trying to trap her into releasing valuable information. Like the location of his missing carry-on. “Sir, let me be very clear. I am not here to make friends. I am here to do my job. And if you have a problem with that—”
“Hey, now.” Nate lifted his hands. “I don’t have a problem with that.”
“Then why do you want to speak to my supervisor?”
“I never asked to speak to your supervisor.”
“Sir, this airport may be new, but I assure you that I have been around the block several times. If a customer wants my name, that can only mean one of two things. He’s trying to be pals so he can get some sort of special airline treatment from me, or he wants to speak to my supervisor to get me fired. Now which is it?”
Nate was still holding his hands up in surrender. “Ma’am, I am merely trying to find my luggage.”
“Then hand over your baggage claim slip.” She held out her hand.
“I don’t have one.”
She closed her eyes and whispered, “Help me, Jesus.” At least that’s what he assumed she whispered. He still couldn’t hear much over the construction noise.
“When I boarded my flight out of Omaha, Nebraska, the flight attendant told me that due to limited space, I needed to check in my carry-on with her.”
“So you did have a check-in bag.” She tapped her nails on the counter.
“But I didn’t check it in.”
“How are we supposed to find a check-in bag if you never checked it in?”
“Because it wasn’t a check-in bag.”
“Then what was it?”
“A carry-on.”
“Well, why didn’t you carry it off?”
“Because the flight attendant said I’d get it back at the end of the flight. But at the end of the flight she told me I’d need to go to the conveyor belt with the rest of the check-in luggage. But when I went there, it wasn’t there.”
“Well, of course it wasn’t there. That’s for check-in bags.”
“Is there a problem?” a short and skinny middle-aged man wearing a TSA security uniform asked.
“He lost his luggage,” said Ms. Hi-I’m-not-really-trying-all-that-hard.
“I didn’t lose anything,” Nate said.
“Then why are you harassing Vivi at the baggage claim desk?” said the TSA security officer.
“So that’s your name? Vivi? That’s a nice name, Vivi. I like it.”
“We don’t appreciate sarcasm, sir,” said Mr. Security. “Or shouting.”
“I’m not—” Nate took a breath and started again. “I’m here because the airport has lost my luggage.”
“Everybody just loves pointing the finger,” Vivi said.
“Do you have your baggage claim slip?” said the TSA security worker.
“I have this,” Nate said, holding up a torn ticket.
“What’s that?” both workers said.
“A ticket for the carry-on, I’m guessing?”
“What am I supposed to do with that?” Vivi shrugged at the security guard. He shrugged back.
Nate sighed. “Is there somebody else I can talk to? A supervisor maybe?”
“Oh, here we go,” Vivi said as she picked up the phone. “Need you up front. Code Hot Potato.”
“I’m not trying to get you fired.” Nate’s phone rang and he glanced at the caller ID. His mom’s B&B landline number. She probably wondered how close he was to the house. He lifted a finger and said, “Excuse me a second,” as he turned away to answer the call.
A deep slow drawl that was definitely not his mom answered his hello. “Howdy, Nate. Quick question. You know some lady from Nebraska?”
Gus. A little bit of the tension left Nate’s shoulders at the sound of a friendly voice. Until he registered what Gus had said.
Nate plugged his ear not pressed against the phone to hear better over the construction noise. “Sorry, what? Nebraska? No. I don’t know anyone from Nebraska.” Except for a dotty gorgeous redhead he was trying to forget. But she wouldn’t be calling. Would she? “What did she say?”
“Something about needing you badly and wanting you to please check your pocket,” Gus said with a chuckle. “She sounded fun.”
Nate groaned. Not McKenna. Winking Wendy. He should’ve known. She’d texted him right before he boarded his flight—at least he assumed it was her based on the winky emoji followed by Guess who!
He hadn’t responded. Never planned to. Which is why he blocked her number. She must’ve tracked him down to his mom’s B&B. Why had he ever mentioned Bugle?
“Gus, do me a favor. Don’t tell that woman anything. I don’t want to talk to her.” And he definitely didn’t want her showing up in Bugle. “If she calls again, just hang up or say whatever you need to so she won’t keep calling.”
“Now I’m even more intrigued to meet her.”
“You don’t want to. Trust me. And hey, not a word about this to my mom either.” She’d invite Winky Wacky Pants to supper and have the two of them married by the end of the night just to get some grandbabies out of Nate.
“Leave it to me,” Gus said. “I’ve got you covered.”
By the time Nate slid the phone into his pocket, a petite woman with the name tag Alice had appeared behind the counter, wearing the sort of smile that suggested she did hope customers asked for her name so they could be friends. “Name?”
“Nate Lambert.”
She tapped on the keyboard for several seconds like a bunny after five shots of espresso before she looked up and said, “Destination?”
“Here.”
More over-caffeinated-bunny tapping. Then, “Favorite color?”
“Uh . . .”
“Just a little airport humor. Trying to diffuse this intense situation before you snap.”
“I’m not going to snap over missing luggage.”
“Told you he was sarcastic,” said Vivi.
“I’m being completely genuine,” said Nate.
“Please don’t raise your voice,” said Alice, now trembling like a frightened bunny.
“My voice isn’t raised.”
“Oh, even I heard the sarcasm that time,” said Mr. Security.
“Listen—” Nate said, leaning against the counter.
“Whoa.”
“Hey, now.”
“Please, don’t approach any closer.” The bunny, the female Mike Tyson, and Barney Fife had all lifted their hands and taken a step back.
Nate froze. “I physically can’t approach any closer. There’s a counter between us.”
Alice’s hands, still raised, shook. “I don’t appreciate the tone you’re using.”
“This is my speaking voice when I’m surrounded by loud construction.”
“There’s a heavy dose of sarcasm to the highly trained ear.” She pointed to her right ear and both other employees nodded, pointing to their right ears too.
“Can we just get back to finding my luggage?”
“As soon as you back away from the counter,” said Mr. Security.
Nate lifted his hands and took a giant step back from the counter. “I just want to know—”
“Well, now we can’t hear you.”
“You’re going to have to speak up.”
“Way too much background noise.”
Inhaling a deep breath, he planted his feet. “I just want to know how to retrieve my luggage.”
“That’s what we all want, sir,” said Vivi.
“I want it so bad,” said Alice.
“We’re all in this together,” said the security guard.
“If you’ll just be patient,” said Alice.
She tapped her fingers all over the keyboard for what felt like an eternity before ending with one giant tap.
“Okay.” She waved him forward with her fingers.
“Step up, step up, don’t be shy. Now here’s the thing.
I have good news and bad news. Which would you like to hear first? ”
“Any news.”
“We lost your luggage.” She held her breath the way a person choosing the correct wire to disassemble a bomb would. “That’s the bad news,” she added in case he couldn’t put two and two together.
At this point he didn’t know whether to step forward, step back, whisper, or shout. So in a tone that hopefully conveyed zero sarcasm or emotion or inflection and basically sounded like a robot, he asked, “What’s the good news then?”
She let out her breath and smiled. “We didn’t lose you.”
They all stared at Nate from the other side of the counter. Nate stared at them. “That’s all you’ve got?” Nate eventually said.
Alice reached forward like she was going to pat his hand, then thought better of it. “You’re more valuable than luggage, sir. I’d say it’s a lot.”
“When you think about it,” Mr. Security added, “life is all about having the right perspective. You’re here. You’re alive. What more could you want?”
“My luggage,” Nate said.
All three employees took a sharp step back. “Okay, one more outburst like that and I will have security escort you off the premises,” Alice said, shaking her finger at him. “We are doing our best.”
Vivi tapped her name badge and nodded.
“So am I,” Nate said.
He pressed his fingers against the headache starting to build between his eyebrows, not even wanting to think about the words sitting inside that little roller suitcase. Words he needed. Words he hadn’t yet read.
“We’ll contact you as soon as we know something,” said Alice.
“So . . . never?” said Nate.
They all tapped their ears.