Page 13 of See You at the Sunset

It was all a stark difference from JFK where she’d just flown from.

Also different, the people. Brightly colored shirts, flip-flops, mismatched patterns. And smiles everywhere. Some oohed and aahed at the palm trees that lined the walkways around the terminal. Others finally released a breath as they prepared themselves to slow down while they were here. Such was its magic.

Jia had packed carefully. She brought the Zimmerman sundress that she’d bought off ThredUp for a Miami wedding she went to last year. And the gorgeous Alice + Olivia tank dress could not be left behind. It was made for Palm Springs. Though there wasn’t likely anyone around her age to even try to impress, she still brought some of her favorite summer staples just in case. Her one large suitcase with her favorites, along with a few pairs of shorts and tank tops and sandals, the cute ones of course, came with her, and the rest were jammed into Lizzy’s storage unit in the city. Bless that girl. She made a mental note to bring her back a huge bag of saltwater taffy from the candy shop downtown.

So as she stood there watching the baggage-claim carousel, one of only three in the whole airport, go round and round a few times, she began to panic. Not a bright yellow roller bag with butterflies splashed all over it in sight. She told herself and others that she’d bought the loud children’s bag so that it would be easily noticeable among the sea of all-the-same black zippered bags. But in all honesty, she just loved it. It made her happy.

And now that it hadn’t arrived, she was sad at the thought of never seeing it again, along with everything inside.

“No sign of your bag? Do you think someone may have picked it up by mistake?” The deep voice dragged Jia from her own thoughts of doom and mental cataloging of everything she’d now likely have to buy and replace with money she did not have.

“I doubt it. It’s a standout. I think maybe it might just be... lost.”

“Excuse me,” he said back to her. “This one’s mine.” A large hand grabbed the handle of the bag on the baggage belt right in front of where she stood, the respective arm lifting it as if it weighed nothing.

Well, okay then. Her mouth suddenly went dry.

Damn desert air.

She pretended to have an itch on her cheek that she’d rub with her shoulder so she could sneak a peek at the man with the sexy voice.

Please be hot. Please be under sixty. Please be single.The chances were slimmer and slimmer just based on the demographic of Palm Springs. She slowly turned around and was met with a smiling, chiseled face of a very handsome man who couldn’t possibly be a day over thirty, forty tops. No ring. And not a gaudy pattern on any item of clothing.

“Looks like mine was the last one out. Do you need help dealing with customer service?” he asked, lifting his chin in the direction of the desk where an airline employee sat on the phone.

“No, I should be okay, but thanks.” Jia looked down at his small, efficient carry-on, wondering why he’d bothered to even check the thing in. Didn’t he know the percentage of bags that were lost by the airlines? She knew, since she handled—well, used to handle—all the travel for the execs at her previous job.And, well, because she was now one of those people with lost luggage after all.

“Quick trip?” she asked, nodding to his bag.

“Something like that,” he said, not giving an inch. “You?”

“Unclear, keeping my options open,” she said, trying to sound flirty and fun.

“I’m Matthew,” he said. Nice, a solid name Matthew. She liked it. He held out his very large hand, and Jia reached hers to meet it.

“Jia,” she said back as her hand enveloped in his.

“Nice to meet you, Jia. I hope we run into each other while you’re visiting. The Del Rey has a really good happy hour if you’re into that kind of thing,” Matthew said. Was that an offer?

“Oh, I am very into that kind of thing,” Jia responded, raising the intonation of her last word to keep it open-ended. Damn, she’d better get her luggage and that Zimmerman dress back in time. It showed just enough cleavage to keep a man interested.

He nodded and flashed that sexy smile again. “See you around. And good luck with your bag,” he said, turning to walk out.

That was it.

Shoot. She should’ve flirted a little harder, left the door open a little wider. But it had been a long flight, her pink seersucker romper was a bit rumpled, and it kind of matched how she was feeling after a long travel day and an uncertain future ahead.

So she brushed off the failed opportunity and went to report her bag lost along the way... much like her life, apparently.

Jia walked up to the Arrivals curb and immediately saw her grandmother’s Camry waiting for her.

Mimi Chung was a small Korean woman with short hair incurls and beautiful bright pink lipstick highlighting her face. She wore matching pink drawstring linen pants with a flowy floral blouse in the brightest shades of green and purple rounding out the ensemble. She stood smiling by the car, arm waving in excitement. No traffic cop would have the audacity to shoo her away from the No Stopping loading zone. Not that anyone was in a hurry here in the desert.

“Jia, honey, over here,” she yelled.

Jia ran to her grandmother. As she got closer, though, she noticed that Mimi’s gray roots were growing out. The wrinkles framing her face looked a little deeper. Her signature pink lipstick was worn off at the corners. Jia tried not to be alarmed, despite the fact the Mimi she knew would never leave the house unless she was one hundred percent put-together.

She bent over to give her the heartiest but gentlest hug she could. Her grandmother’s arms wrapped around her and squeezed, a little more fragile than she’d remembered. Was Jia overthinking it? Or did Mimi just seem much older than the last time she’d visited?