James

“I’m about to blow my top, James.” Cora had been ranting for thirty minutes, although I’d yet to figure out what she was pissed about. “Ugh, insufferable, I swear. Maybe it’s just this place.”

“So come home.” I used any opening, anytime, to get her back stateside. I didn’t care what the reason was or who sent her in my direction, as long as she came.

“Ten more months.”

“You could be on a plane tomorrow if you wanted to,” I spoke into the air as I drove down the interstate heading back to Geneva Key.

“Well, that wouldn’t do me any good. Where would I go? Hang out in the terminals?”

“Have you ever wondered if people do that? Like just spend days wandering around the airport? It would be a safe place for homeless people to go. Why don’t people do that?” I’d drifted off topic, only realizing it when Cora laughed on the other end. It was the first bit of humor I’d heard from her since she called.