“Wow.” My eyebrows rise. “I didnotsee that coming.” Wayne is distinctive for his dry wit and the cigarette that’s always clutched in his hand.
“What? People change.” He rises to his whole five feet, seven inches, indignation flashing in his eyes.
“People, yes. You, no.” When a shadow of hurt crosses his face, I quickly amend to say, “At least I didn’t think you could, but clearly I was wrong.” I sigh a relieved breath, glad I won’t have to worry about him getting emphysema.
“Wow. It’s a Christmas miracle. You know I’m happy. I’ve been asking you to give it up for ages.”
“I know. I know,” he grumbles.
“How’re you doing it?” Statistics from medical school pop up in my head, and they aren’t good. Less than 10 percent of people who attempt to stop smoking are successful. “It might be hard.” I don’t want to rain on his parade, but maybe I can help? Offer some advice? “There are pills and other things—”
“No need.” He holds up his hand, stopping me. “I’ve got this.” Wayne opens his mouth and sticks out his tongue, showing off a piece of mint blue gum.
I wrinkle my nose at the sight. “First of all, eww. Second of all, what is that?”
He sucks it back into his mouth and proceeds to chew loudly, smacking his lips together. “Nicotine gum. It helps with the cravings.”
“That’s great. I’m proud of you.” I beam at him, hopeful he’ll beat the odds and stay off the cigarettes. If anyone can do it, it’s Wayne. He’s the most bull-headed person I know. “Isn’t that wonderful, Alvina?”
She gives us a soft smile. “It is.”
Sharp-eyed Wayne zeroes in on me. “Are you wearing a…fanny pack?” he asks incredulously. “Didn’t those go out of style in the Eighties?”
Of all people, I’m not taking fashion criticism from him. Wayne wears jeans, a T-shirt, and a plain jacket most days. The one time he said he was going to “dress up” he had arrived in the same outfit as usual, except he traded the T-shirt for a button-down flannel shirt.
“No,” I answer, clasping my newest purchase. My fingers dig into the brown imitation leather. I tighten the nylon strap that holds it close to my body. “It’s a waist bag. My old purse was so worn that one of the straps broke. I got this to replace it. These are the new hot fashion item. I readallabout it in a magazine.” I lift my chin, proud to be ahead of a trend for once. Most of my life is spent in scrubs, so I rarely have reason to feel fancy, but this bag makes me walk a little taller, swish my hips a little more, just so it can sway with my movement.
“I don’t care who wrote about it,” declares Wayne, “that, my friend, is a fanny pack.”
“It is not!” My voice gets louder as I argue with him. Sometimes hanging out with Wayne reminds me of being with my younger brother, Teddy. He brings out the angsty teenager in me.
Wayne addresses Alvina. “Back me up here. Is that or is it not a fanny pack?”
I beseech her with my eyes, begging her to agree with me.
She sweeps her gaze over me and declares, “It’s a fanny pack.”
“Traitor,” I mouth silently to her, but she simply frowns in response, shaking her head likeI’mthe one who should be ashamed.
An announcement overhead calls our flight number. “We’d better get going,” I tell the two of them, not minding the interruption. The security line takes twice as long as usual. Once we’re through, I grab an iced coffee and sit down next to Alvina to wait for boarding while Wayne heads to the bookstore to pick up a magazine.
“Did I show you the sunglasses Caleb got me?” I fish them out of my waist bag, which by definition isnota fanny pack, and hold them up proudly.
She looks them over, nodding politely. “Very nice.”
“Watch this,” I tell her, working hard to suppress my smile. I slip on my glasses and say, “Glasses, text Caleb and tell him I love him.”
I take them off with a flourish and hand them to Alvina. “They’re smart glasses. See? You can make phone calls and send messages with them. There’s a tiny computer screen up in the corner.”
She takes the glasses and holds them up to her eyes. “Wow. They have a clock and the weather, but I can still see through them.”
“I know! So cool, right? Caleb gave them to me for my birthday. I said they were too much, but he insisted. Now I use them everywhere. My favorite is how they have tiny speakers in the earpiece, so I can listen to music hands-free when I go for a run.”
A faint pinging sound emanates from the glasses. Alvina squints to read the small screen. “It’s a text from Caleb. He says he loves you more.” She takes off the glasses and hands them back, rolling her eyes. “I swear you two give me a toothache. That’s how sweet you are.”
My smile breaks free. “We really are cute together, aren’t we?” I bounce happily in my seat, picturing Caleb from this morning, the love in his eyes when he looked at me.
A woman’s voice interrupts our conversation.
