Page 29 of Road Trip
The businessman, who wore an ill-fitting suit jacket, turned and smirked. “She seems like a lot of fun.”
“Nobody asked you,” Maeve snapped. “Mind your own business.”
A hulking male TSA agent moved up and down the line, calling out instructions. “Folks, I’m gonna say this again. I need you to have your photo ID out and ready. Laptops out of their bags. Nothing in pockets. Everything goes in bins on the conveyor belt.”
When it was their turn, Maeve struggled mightily to lift her bag onto the belt.
“Here, let me,” Therese said. She grabbed the bottom of the bag. “Oof. What’s in this thing? Bricks?”
“My laptop. Research materials. Toiletries. Change of clothes. Meds.”
“Ugh. Overpackers are the worst,” Therese said. She easily lifted her much-smaller bag, placed it in the same bin, and stepped around her sister and through the metal detector.
Maeve’s face was gleaming with perspiration when she finally made it through the detector. She joined Therese at the end of the conveyor belt to claim their bags.
“Whose bag is this?” The husky TSA agent had joined a much younger, skinny female agent who was waving a handheld wand back and forth over a worn leather-and-canvas duffel bag. He pointed at Maeve. “Ma’am, is this yours?”
“It’s mine,” Therese replied, stepping closer to the conveyor belt. “Is there a problem?”
“It’s buzzing,” the younger agent said. She pointed at the large sign listing all the items prohibited in carry-on baggage, then looked down at the X-ray screen that showed the shadowy contents of the bag. “You got a stun gun in here? Chemical mace?”
“What? No! It’s probably just my electric toothbrush.”
“Step over here, ma’am,” the male agent said, his expression tense. He pulled on latex gloves and unzipped the duffel. He parted the folded clothes and brandished the offending item. He showed it to the female agent, who guffawed. The nosy businessman who’d been in front of the sisters leaned in to get a closer look.
“Back off!” Maeve elbowed the man and sent him sprawling onto the floor.
Therese coolly snatched the item away from the TSA agent. “Has Big Brother now made it some kind of a federal crime to travel with a sex toy?”
Maeve felt her face go crimson. She retrieved her bag and raced away down the concourse toward their flight’s departure gate, wanting to put as much distance as possible between Therese and her buzzing vibrator.
The gate area was crowded but she found a single vacant seat and pulled a paperback mystery from her purse. Their flight didn’t depart for another hour and a half, and she quickly found herself immersed in Louise Penny’s cozy but murderous village of Three Pines. The Canadian author’s series had always been her comfort read, and God knew Maeve could use a distraction right now.
Every fifteen minutes or so she’d raise her head and look around for her sister. Then she’d check the boarding pass on her phone, as well as the paper pass, which she’d insisted on printing out, just in case.
When the Delta gate agent approached the podium and announced that boarding would soon begin, Maeve craned her neck to make sure she hadn’t missed Therese’s arrival.
“Passengers traveling with small children or those needing extra assistance may begin boarding,” the agent announced.
As people began queuing up, Maeve stood, again surveying the area in search of her sister. She tapped out a text to Therese.
Boarding beginning. Where r u?
Five minutes passed with no response. Maeve felt her already simmering travel anxiety go up a notch.
“First-class passengers may begin boarding.” People surged past Maeve. She glanced again at her phone. Three tiny bubbles finally appeared.
On way.
“Comfort Plus passengers may now board,” the gate agent said. “Then we’ll board groups one through three.”
She tapped out another text.
Hurry, dammit.
Maeve had memorized their row and seat numbers. She’d purchased the cheapest seats available, which meant they’d be the last group to board, but that fact didn’t lessen her anxiety.
She made her way to the back of the line of passengers, silently cursing her sister and her totally reliable unreliability as she inched her way forward.
