Page 6 of Changed Plan

I place my order. A large black coffee, but hot. Darby makes no comment, but I turn to her and say, “I drink hot coffee all year long.”

She doesn’t laugh, but I do get a smile. Or a smirk. Whatever. I’ll take it.

With her cup held high and slightly tilted toward me in salute, she says, “Thanks for the coffee.” Then she walks off as if that’s that.

I’m tempted to run off after her before I even get my own coffee, but I don’t want to look desperate. The moment my cup hits the counter, though, I grab it and sprint.

Darby’s browsing the window of a clothing store when I catch up to her. I hadn’t thought anything of it before, but all she’s carrying is a large tote bag. When I stood next to her at the gate, I could see that it held her laptop bag, her purse, and a bag of pretzels. I doubt there’s room for clothes underneath those things.

I had the advantage of height. I wasn’t being nosy. Not entirely.

“You don’t travel with a carry-on?” I ask.

“The irony is that I normally do, but I decided to skip it this time. The one fucking time I get stranded, and all my clothes are in my checked bag.”

She makes no note of the fact that I’ve caught up to her, just answers my question as if I’ve been standing here all along. “Looks like you made the same mistake.”

She’s wrong. I’ve already checked into the hotel and left my carry-on in the room. I kept my computer with me because I thought I might get some work done, and I don’t work well in silence. Having movement and noise around me forces me to focus, but I couldn’t find a decent spot to work.

Knowing I at least have some clothes and my toothbrush provides a small amount of comfort, despite the overall inconvenience of being stuck here. She’s got nothing.

“I’m happy to buy you a change of clothes and any necessities you need.”

Now, she takes very intentional notice of me. “What the hell is wrong with you? Is this supposed to be some sort ofPretty Womanmoment?”

“What? No, I just meant because you’ve lost your job, and you’re stuck here at least overnight, that I’d be happy to help.” I add what I intend to be a friendly, maybe-don’t-slap-me shrug, but it does nothing to soften her expression. In fact, she looks even angrier now.

“The coffee was plenty.” She steps past me to enter the store. Quickly.

As soon as the words left my mouth, I knew offering to buy her clothes was weird, but they were already out there. And apparently, they sounded worse than I even realized.

Fuck. What do I do now? Just stand here and wait for her to finish shopping? Yeah, that won’t make me look like an actual stalker at all. I stare through the windows at the clothing racks, letting my eyes scan from one to the next, hoping to find a men’s section. No such luck.

There’s a bookstore across the hall. I guess I’ll pretend to shop for a book until she leaves this store, and then I cancoincidentallycatch up to her again. It’s not the best plan I’ve ever had, but desperate times . . . not that I’m desperate for her.

I’m intrigued, that’s all.

3

Darby

Improv, but Say No

DoIneedtobuy three new outfits in the airport? Maybe not, but when pants fit this well, and I find a long dress that doesn’t drag the ground on me, I’m buying them. Two new pairs of pants, tops to go with them, and one dress isn’t all that extravagant. The price tags? Yeah, I’m trying not to think about those. But after the day I’ve had, I deserve to treat myself a little.

I carry everything out of the dressing room and wander around in search of the only other thing I need. Just when I’m about to give up, the sales clerk asks if I need help finding anything else.

“I’ve looked around and I don’t see any, but I’ve never had to buy a change of clothes at the airport, so I’m not sure if you sell them or not, but—”

Before I can finish dragging out my question, she smiles and leads me to a drawer, where she reveals a limited selection of underwear. I’ve never been so grateful to see granny panties in my life.

Okay, maybe they’re not that bad, but they’re not sexy. Not that I’m trying to be sexy in the airport. Why did I even think that? Who cares what they look like?

I add three pairs of very plain black underwear to my purchases.

“I notice your tote doesn’t zip,” the clerk says. “And it looks pretty full. We do have quilted totes with zippers. They hold quite a bit.”

“If I’m going to have to carry something else, I may as well just carry a shopping bag.”

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