Page 13 of Planes, Trains, and Candy Canes

“You may unbuckle your seatbelts and check your surroundings for any belongings you brought on the flight,” a flight attendant instructed, breaking into their worried silence.

“BY THE TIME WE GETto Pine Ridge, I’m going to be wearing that damn travel blanket,” Reese groaned.

“I’ll buy you a Gainesville t-shirt. Maybe a Sunshine State sweatshirt?” Derrick hazarded as they rattled into the air in an e-jet with about fifty seats—all packed.

“How could they lose two more bags? Like, where do they go? Is luggage raining down across Florida? Are my favorite sneakers scattered somewhere over Albuquerque?”

“It’ll all catch up to you,” Derrick soothed, and then wondered if he was doing this wrong. Should he be frustrated with her, so they could commiserate together? He traveled light, and all of his belongings were in his carry-on bag, his bookbag, or his laptop case, which admittedly had a ton of zips and pockets for odds and ends. Reese’s hard, neon pink laptop case was more like an oversized lunchbox, a padded shell.

Impractical. Emotional.

Irritation surged, not just at the airlines for continuing to mismanage her luggage, but at himself and dating in general. This wasn’t even dating. This was a travel boot camp with the worst-prepared partner. If this were a reality show, they would have lost by now.

I haven’t dated anyone in years. A dinner here, a movie there—nothing comes of it. It’s because I’m too boring, too basic. No flash. No style—unless that style says boring, basic white guy, nearsighted edition.

Even working out a couple times a week hadn’t turned any heads at the gym or The Pine Loft, his local coffee shop.

Reese’s impulsive kiss on the cheek and the way she held his hand made him think about relationships—and also realize that it was completely unlikely to last.

I don’t know how to be with someone—especially not someone like her. She’s a ten.

Okay, a nine and a half, but we’re only taking off points because she knocked over that display of earbuds and phone chargers as we were running to make this flight after filling out the “My luggage is still on the other plane, please send it to me at this address” form.

And she’s still ranting—and the bag of chocolate is back out.

“I live on coffee and chocolates,” Reese said when she caught him looking, and held the bag out.

“I’m good.” They’d just eaten overpriced and slightly rubbery egg and ham bagels from a kiosk inside the airport. He’d purchased them while Reese was arguing with a member of airport staff about getting her luggage off the San Francisco to Pensacola flight in time to get onto the regional Pensacola to Gainesville flight. With only an hour or so between landing and take-off, there were no guarantees.

“How can it take so long to get bags off one plane?”

She’s been through a lot. She’s whining. She’s tired.

We both need to get the hell out of cramped little seats.

“I’m driving you nuts, aren’t I?” Reese groaned and downed the rest of the coffee in the insulated cup (purchased with the rubbery bagel).

“What? No.”

“I know I am. I think it’s because I talk out loud when I’m stressed. I talk through my problems. Working alone, at home, I do that. I talk myself through things because half the time the people I’m working with are in another time zone or home with their families when I suddenly figure stuff out.” Reese’s voice dropped. “Jeff called it word vomit. He needed quiet to think.”

“Oh.” Derrick cocked his head. “Well... I have these.” He pulled his earbud case from his pocket. “If I really needed to think and my girlfriend just wanted to talk out loud, I’d put these in and let her do what she needed to do. But if she wanted to talk to me, I’d listen. I’d just suck at it. I make little lists and go through things in order. I’d probably drive her crazy, with everything all planned out.”

Reese shrugged. “I don’t know. If a guy included me on the plans, I’d like that.” She smiled at him, wiping the corners of her mouth on a paper napkin, “I also like the earbud thing.”

“You do?”

“Yes! You’re just getting what you need and letting her have what she needs.”

Derrick felt a prickle of hope dance through his chest. “We both need to figure out how we should get to New York—plane, train, or car. Long-distance flights on Christmas Eve with only a couple hours’ notice are going to be the worst bet.”

“I’ll look at planes and cars if you look up trains?” Reese smiled and pulled out her phone.

He opened his laptop, and immediately, his synced to-do lists popped up.

“Oh, wow.” Reese peered over at him. “You weren’t kidding.”

Well, might as well say the truth now so I can stop pretending.“I’m a basic, boring guy. With glasses. There’s nothing special about me.”

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