“Uh, I don’t have a ticket.”
The man looked at him strangely and Jasper didn’t blame him for his confusion. People waited behind him, and heat rose in his cheeks.
Jasper hastened to add, “There’s supposed to be a ticket left for me here? Jasper? Jasper Warren?”
The man chuckled. “Are you asking me your name?”
“No. No, of course not.” He remembered then that the man had requested ID. That, he could manage. He groped for his wallet, pulled it from his jeans back pocket, plucked his driver’s license out, and set it on the counter.
The guy eyed it, set it down, and then began keying letters into the terminal in front of him. “Ah. Right here, Mr. Warren. Flying to Palm Springs?”
Jasper nodded.
“We have you in the second row, window. I’ll print out your boarding pass. Do you want to check your bag?”
Jasper had heard that checking a bag cost extra. “Um, no, that’s okay.”
The attendant smiled. “It’s complimentary, sir.”
Finally, Jasper was able to manage a smile in return. “Is it that obvious?” He meant his poverty, his lack of sophistication.
“First time flying?”
“Yeah.”
“It can be a bit overwhelming. Just set your bag on the scale here, and I’ll check it through to California for you. Then you won’t have to worry.” He printed out a label for the bag and applied it to its nylon handles. “You’ll want to fill out an identification tag with your numbers.”
“Sure.” Jasper got busy.
The attendant handed him his pass and directed him to security. “After that, you can wait in the Alaska lounge. It’ll be on your left after you come out of security. You have plenty of time. Then you proceed to Gate F. You won’t need the shuttle, and because you’re in first, you’re among the first to board. Easy-peasy.” He gave Jasper a warm smile and a flash of dark brown eyes. “You don’t have to worry about a thing. Relax.”
Jasper thanked him, thinking,At least not until I’m on the ground.
AS THEYneared Palm Springs, Jasper sucked in a breath at the desert landscape and mountains below him. The sky was electric blue and the mountains and desert were unlike anything he’d ever seen. It almost looked like how he’d imagine the surface of Mars would appear. Was there really life down there? It was stunningly, breathtakingly beautiful, but it looked so, so… sterile, almost uninhabitable. The jagged mountains soared into the sky, claiming their space in the neon blue, looking unreal—blue, gray, and a dusty color Jasper couldn’t name.
As they neared civilization and descended farther, Jasper began to see signs of life: roads, patches of green (many, many golf courses), even a water park. Most of the buildings and houses seemed low to the ground and bleached by the sun. Red tile roofs dotted the landscape like decorations.
It wasn’t long before they were touching down on the runway, and Jasper held fast to his armrests. The three Bloody Marys he’d drunk on the way didn’t lessen his anxiety. Touchdown seemed so hard! And his ears hadn’t popped, so in the air was true hushed expectancy. He could barely hear the announcements, but everyone stood quickly, whipping out their phones. Heads lowered to screens. Fingers began keying in texts.
Before he knew it, he was headed for the exit. He smiled at the cute flight attendant who mouthed the words “bu-bye” as Jasper stepped off the plane.
Once outside the terminal, Jasper felt he’d traveled to another world, another time, another season. Most of the airport was outdoors, shielded from the sun by giant white tenting. He noticed the terminal was named after Sonny Bono and emitted a burst of laughter. He vaguely remembered seeing an old cassette of his mom’s somewhere around the house,The Best of Sonny and Cher.
His thoughts of Mr. Bono, whom he knew next to nothing about, were quickly replaced by the scenery. The tall, spindly palms swayed gently in a heated breeze, their fronds glistening green in the sun. And the sun! That ball of fire seemed hotter than it ever had in Illinois, already baking the top of his head, his face, his shoulders.
Other than in movies, Jasper had never seen a palm tree before.
He paused to simply stand at the bottom of the escalator to take in the famous dry heat and the mountains and hills, ochre brown, all around.
He felt like a rube. This, he thought, was truly a pinch-me moment. He had to force himself to go on inside to baggage claim.
ONCE HEclaimed his bag, he headed outside to wait for Rob, who said he’d pick him up. As they’d agreed, Jasper texted when he landed—with a shaking hand. He felt a little sick now that he was here.
Oh my God, he thought,what the hell have I done?He honestly wished he hadn’t come.This is ridiculous. I don’t even know the man other than a little conversation over drinks.He came back withYou’ve read every single one of his books. You know him. You lived with, and loved, his niece. You know him. You’ve been writing back and forth for months. You know him. And, there’s that little attraction pull the two of you seem to have going on.
Outside, the sun made Jasper sweat. It wasn’t that hot, only in the eighties and virtually no humidity, but that sun! Oh, it was relentless. Jasper had tried to look nice too. From the Rack, he’d picked up a cool Ben Sherman short-sleeve shirt—geometric blue and black shapes on a white background—that fitted him as though tailor-made. Now it was dark under the pits.
Rob hadn’t said what kind of car he’d be driving, so Jasper tried to keep his mind off the plusses and minuses of his appearance by scanning every driver and vehicle as it passed by. He wasn’t even sure he’d remember what Rob looked like, despite having pored over pictures of him, both online and sent via their email exchanges.
