“After I got off the phone with Domino, I told Steve we were ready to get home, and he could not get on the airport’s website fast enough. Every day we had been in Seattle, his bitching about missing New York had grown exponentially. And now, every ten minutes he was texting me, asking me if I was getting packed, and every time I answered “yes, God!” As I looked over the clothes still strewn on the bed, I realized maybe I should have been a little less snarky with Steve this time. And maybe a fe...w other times. And maybe that Steve was right about me being horrible to fly with. Hell, that was nothing a few mimosas couldn’t fix. I saw my phone on the nightstand light up with a message and ignored it, instead pulling up my suitcase onto the bed to begin packing in earnest. The trip had been so chaotic that I hadn’t even kept track of what needed to be washed, so everything got stuffed with equal disregard into the square black bag as efficiently as possible. As I threw in garment after garment, my hand grabbed one that still felt unfamiliar.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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