Page 4 of All the way home

“All I am suggesting is that we focus,” she says. “I do not need you adopting a stray. Please.”

Kieran locks her into a silent battle of wills, and she glares him down until he raises both hands and relents. “All right. But if I just missed out on the meet-cute of my life, it’s on you.”

“How unfortunate that we’ll never know,” she says dryly. “Don’t make me leash you.”

Of course, Kieran doesn’t appear offended by the threat in the slightest, looking over his shoulder back at the boy. Then again, Kieran never appears properly offended. There’d been a point where she had believed that he really was unflappable.

Now it’s hard to trust anything she reads on his face.

An errant honk from a shuttle trying to work its way around the crowds cuts through the constant scraping roll of luggage wheels on linoleum. CBC News on mute provides a churning kaleidoscope of color on mounted screens flashing overhead. Announcements clamor as the chatter of conversation in the airport slowly rises in volume as more travelers enter the concourse, both from security and unloading planes, echoing against the large windows until it matches the slow buzz of adrenaline burning in her veins.

“What’s the gate again?” Lucas asks, at her shoulder.

“C53,” Rena says automatically, trying not to be annoyed, even though she’s already told him this three times.

She takes a deep breath. Just because she’s still rankled from their argument this morning doesn’t mean she can’t be civil.

“C53?” Lucas asks, scanning the flight board.

Rena doesn’t have to look at her ticket. She’s checked it enough times that she knows it by heart. After nobody says anything, she checks it just to be sure.

It’s C53.

She sets off toward the gate, keeping Kieran locked in her peripheral vision. She doesn’t have to worry about Lucas, who she knows will follow right behind. Kieran, though, is a wildcard.

Thankfully, he stays close as she navigates them through the crowd, ignoring the panicked murmur of travelers watching the boards.

Her phone buzzes.

Kieran glances at his smartwatch, so presumably the message went to him too, and she has to nudge his elbow to prevent him from stopping right in the middle of the terminal to read it.

“What?”

He shakes his head. “Nothing. Just Mum and Dad.”

As they approach the gate, Rena worries at her bottom lip. Voice low, so Lucas won’t hear, she asks, “Have you called her back yet?”

“Nope,” Kieran says, all casual, tone eerily empty and stripped of color.

She sighs. “Kieran, seriously?”

“We’re going to see her in, like, six hours.” Kieran lifts a shoulder.

“And you really want to rip off the Band-Aid in person?” She keeps her voice to a whisper.

“Better than trying to rip off a Band-Aid over Zoom,” Kieran says, somewhat snottily. “Or worse, by text, like some kind of neanderthal.”

“Rip off what Band-Aid?” Lucas asks.

“Don’t worry about it.” Rena presses a hand to the side of her face, abruptly weary. At least Lucas won’t be present for the inevitable fall-out later, since he’ll be going home to his own family. She’ll give him the rundown—eventually. With a start, Rena realizes they haven’t actually planned when they’re going to meet up over the holidays.

A group of tourists in matching T-shirts separate Rena and the boys, speaking in rapid, enthusiastic Japanese, and as she frantically sidesteps them to keep their group together, Lucas puts a hand on her shoulder.

It’s meant to be reassuring, but still Rena tenses, and he snatches his hand back. She glimpses his face out of the corner of her eye and wishes she hadn’t—it’s getting a bit too familiar, that mild disappointment.

She can’t help that she doesn’t like being touched when she’s in an overwhelming environment.

Lucas puts his hands in his pockets. “It’s okay,” he says, still soft and reassuring. “We’re in no rush. We’ll make it.”