Page 64 of Holiday Wedding
Saturday, December 21
3 days until the wedding
Gwen
We’re stranded in Denver.
We arrived to find gate agents waiting for us. They had clipboards and guarded expressions. “We’re sorry to inform you that your connecting flight has been grounded. All flights into New York are canceled. The National Weather Service has placed the city under a winter storm warning. They’re expecting blizzard conditions over the next few days.”
“No!” I don’t realize I’ve said it out loud until all eyes shift to me.
“We apologize.” The agent’s gaze darts to the group behind us. She’ll have to repeat this same spiel to them. “We have a shuttle waiting to take you to a hotel, compliments of the airline. I have a $20 food voucher for each of you.” She hands me a slip of paper, which I shove blindly into my pocket. Words are exchanged between her and Alvina, but I don’t hear them. I’ve tuned out of the conversation.
I try calling Caleb, but it goes to voicemail.
Soon, Alvina has a hand on my elbow. She propels me through the terminal and onto the cramped shuttle, full of downtrodden travelers just like us. It’s silent on the ride to the hotel. Everyone’s words were used up arguing back at the airport.
Denver has snow too—not blizzard conditions, but flurries that slap againstthe windows and blow across the road. The driver steers through it with practiced movements, swerving around the tallest piles of snow that have accumulated between the lanes.
We check into our mid-level hotel and head up to our room. Generic beige walls and white bedspreads. Soap wrapped in waxy paper next to the sink. For an extra touch, the maids have folded the last piece of toilet paper into a triangle.
I hate it all.
I miss Caleb and my apartment and my bed.
In need of distraction from my woes, I ask, “What about you and Wayne? What’s going on there?”
“It started a month ago,” she says, then hesitates.
“Uh-huh. Go on.”
“I was in the grocery store, getting conditioner, when I bumped into him. He saw the bottle and was all,” she lowers her voice and broadens her chest, doing a comical and rather accurate impression of Wayne, “Is this why you smell so good—like coconuts?”
I halt her with a hand on her shoulder and say, “Caleb sniffs me all the time. He says I smell like strawberries from my shampoo. Is this a thing? Like all the men in the world are in a secret group chat, and they come up with these diabolical pickup lines about hair products?”
Her eyes widen at that. “I don’t know, but it does make sense because it totally worked on me. Suddenly, I’m tossing my hair around, feeling flirty, thinking about how good I smell.”
“That’s what happened to me, too,” I exclaim. “Then what?”
“I continue my shopping trip, and Wayne follows me. He says nice things and helps to reach items on the top shelves and pushes my cart without me asking.”
“Wow,” I say, totally serious. “That’s some sexy stuff.”
“I know, right?”
I nod, the movement slow and thoughtful. “Did you go home and propose to him that night? Because I would have.”
She snorts a laugh. “No. We ended up going to dinner.” Her features soften at the memory.
“And…” I wave my hand for her to continue.
“That meal turned into another and another. Then it was movies and day dates…and here we are.”
“You like him?” I ask, a feeling of wonder lightening my sadness. I knew they were spending time together, but I wasn’t sure if it was anything more. Seeing Alvina’s face when she talks about Wayne, how her voice is laced with fondness, how a besotted smile lifts the corners of her mouth, I know this is more than just casual. She has that dreamy look of someone who’s falling in love. I recognize that expression because I’ve seen it in the mirror ever since I met Caleb.
“I do,” she admits. “He’s different than I thought. He’s caring, protective, nurturing. We have a lot of fun together. He makes me feel young. Like there’s a world out there waiting for us to explore.”
“Hey,” I say, placing a hand on my hip, “does this new relationship of yours have anything to do with Wayne’s sudden desire to stop smoking?”
