There were two, and both had filled up immediately by displaced passengers. “Or there is a flight departing for Santa Fe...” Her hopes had risen when she’d heard that. “...at eight-fifty-two tomorrow with a five hour stopover in Denver.” Just where she didn’t want to be. “Arrival time in Santa Fe at seven-thirty tomorrow evening.”
Merry had put her name on all the lists, but still refused to accept the fact that there was no feasible way to get out of here tonight. Turning away in a huff, she didn’t bother to stick around to listen to their very generous offer of, “Admittance to the flight lounge that has WiFi, along with a complimentary voucher for a meal at the only restaurant in the terminal, and a coupon for fifty percent off your next flight anywhere in the contiguous states.”
She lugged her things toward a row of hard plastic chairs that overlooked the runways, and dropped everything at her feet. Then she sank down into the nearest chair and forced herself to stay calm.
All she had to do was get to Wolf Lake, New Mexico, a small town where tourists migrated to in the summer. In the winter it was a stop off for skiers before they headed farther north to the popular resorts higher in the mountains.
It was her home. It was where she’d moved six months ago, coming back after twenty years to settle there, to start a new job. Landing that position at The Family Center, to aid in the development of children who needed the help and guidance of a trained psychologist, had seemed like a dream come true for her. Because the truth was, she’d wanted to return to Wolf Lake from the moment her mother and stepfather had spirited her off to the first of many military posts they would relocate to over the years. Now she was back, or had been back, until she’d gone out of town for that three-day child development seminar in Chicago.
Swiping an errant strand of auburn hair off her cheek, she stared straight ahead on the concourse, barely noticing the people milling about in search of their flights. She was sitting still, but her mind was going a mile a minute trying to think of any way to get out of Pueblo and on her way back home. She’d already checked the car rentals, which had none available, and even asked at the charter counter, but immediately gave up that idea when she heard what it would cost. It was far beyond anything she could manage on the modest salary she earned from The Family Center.
The kids. She shook her head. They’d never understand that she’d broken her promise. Never. She’d told them she was going away to a conference for a few days, and that had been a bit upsetting for most of them. However, for Erin, a six-year-old girl, who was so small she could have passed for four years old, it had hit hardest. The child had stared at her intently, then thrown her arms around Merry’s legs and hugged Merry so tightly that it was almost painful.
Erin was alone in the world, her mother dead, her father serving a life term in prison. The girl with a wild mass of brilliant red curls, and pale, freckled skin, seldom talked. And she hadn’t uttered a word then, just moaned softly until Merry had settled her down. The promise she’d made to all the children, she made again to Erin privately. “Three days and nights, then I promise I’ll be back before you have to leave with Mrs. Harper.”
Maybe the child heard the honest intent of those words and trusted her, or maybe she just gave up. But either way, that promise would mean nothing now, not unless Merry could make good on it. The urgency in her to get home grew stronger and drove her to her feet.. Her kids, including Erin, didn’t understand excuses. She couldn’t afford to let them down. Her kids had special needs in varying degrees, but their foremost need was being able to depend on people close to them.
Merri looked around, frustrated, but still not giving up. She was proactive, as one of her college professors had pointed out without exactly saying that was a good thing. But she thought it was, so on impulse, canvased the other passengers stuck in the terminal in an attempt to see if she could secure one of their seats if they weren’t in a hurry. But, once again, she hit a brick wall. It seemed everyone diverted here wanted to get out as soon as possible. She looked around the main terminal, at the throngs of passengers going in and out of the souvenir and snack shops, checking out kiosks and generally killing time until the boarding call for their flights came over the PA system.
Merry was part of that same crowd, but unfortunately, she was not going to get any announcement in her favor anytime soon. Pacing restlessly around the concourse, she wound up back at the service desk for the airline again. Thankfully, most of the other passengers had been dealt with, and there were only a handful of people near the counters now.
“One more time,” she muttered to herself as she headed to the end of a line fronted by an anxious-looking young man, followed by an elderly couple. The young man abruptly pushed away from the counter, calling back over his shoulder, “Thanks for nothing,” as he stomped off. The couple moved to the desk, leaving Merry alone in the line. The gentleman spoke quietly to the agent, his tone polite, but his words indistinguishable. The elderly lady suddenly raised her voice to say, “But we have to get a flight out of here now!” Her voice took on a soft, plaintive whine as she turned toward the man beside her. “Ashford, tell this lady we have to get back to Los Angeles.”
The gentleman nodded, dropping an arm around his companion’s shoulders, and he spoke to the agent again in a louder voice. “Madam, this is not acceptable. We have opera tickets that are impossible to procure, and now you’re telling me that there will be two empty seats in the hall this evening! Unacceptable, totally unacceptable.” He narrowed his eyes at her. “Who is your supervisor?”
“Andrew Davison,” the agent said, and directed them to his office before adding, “I hope Mr. Davison can do something to help you.”
With a shake of his head, the gentleman walked off with his lady, and the path was finally clear for Merry to get to the desk. Hi,” she said, hating the tightness in her voice as she forced a jittery smile at the agent whose name tag read Alice Z. “I need to get home, and arriving there tomorrow evening isn’t an option.”
April Z, a stunningly attractive blonde, looked a bit frayed from dealing with all those displaced passengers, but that polite smile remained. “I’m so sorry, but there are no open seats on the flights out to Los Angeles right now.”
Merry stopped her. “I’m trying to get to Santa Fe. My original plane was going to go on to L.A., but I was getting off in Santa Fe.”
“Oh,” the woman said, but that information didn’t change her demeanor one bit. “I can put you on standby for a flight to Santa Fe if you like? Or do you have a medical emergency, family crisis, or any other compelling reason that you have to be on a flight now?”
Alice Z. looked at her expectantly, but Merry knew that no one would think that her reason for needing to get home would be compelling to anyone except her. “Um...no, nothing like that.”
With what looked like real disappointment, the pretty blonde turned to the nearest computer screen, tapped it with a slender finger, then said, “Your last name?”
“Brenner.”
“Ah, yes, here you are. I can get you out on a flight out in the morning.”
“I already heard that. It goes to Denver first, then a five hour layover before it gets to Santa Fe tomorrow evening.”
“Then apparently you know what I know,” the agent said with a sigh.
“I just have to get home,” she reiterated desperately. “There has to be some way to do that and get there by tonight. It isn’t that far.”
April Z. turned back to the computer screen, taking several moments scrolling the information, then reached behind her for a swivel chair and dropped down in it before turning back in Merry’s direction. “I usually love my job,” she muttered, “but right about now...”
As her words trailed off, Merry found herself in the position of showing a degree of sympathy. “I know. You’ve done your best.”
The woman spread her hands. “This airport is not huge, and we just do not have the kind