Three Little Words

He relaxed and nodded. Then he started tapping keys. “Do you mind flying to San Francisco first?”

“Not at all. Like I said, whatever’s easiest for you.”

“I have a connection through LAX on Western. You’ll have a layover in San Fran, but I can get you home from there.”

“Let’s do it.”

He nodded and went to work.

“Thanks for helping us,” I said.

“You’re welcome. Thanks for making my life easier,” he added without looking up. Then he glanced at Christy. He typed some more and frowned.

“Problem?”

“I can get you on an interline ticket, but I can’t do the same for Miss Carmichael.”

I looked around to make sure no one could overhear. “Do you mind a bit of creative ticketing?”

“Such as…?”

“Use my sister’s ID.” I gave him the number—it was one digit off from mine—and he entered it in the system.

“That works,” he said. “Miss Carmichael, you’re now Miss Hughes.” He paged through the screens and entered information. “There,” he said at last.

“You’re all set. I even upgraded you to first class on the company flight from SFO to ATL.”

“Wow, thanks! We owe you.”

He printed the tickets and handed them over. “Have a nice flight.”

I touched my brow in a salute, and we moved away from the counter.

Christy beamed. “You were awesome.”

“Thanks. Now…” I grinned. “Do you want me to call you Erin, Sis, or Miss Hughes?”

She rolled her eyes. “None of the above?”

“Right! Sis it is. C’mon, Sis, let’s find our gate.”

We tried to call Sara when we changed planes at LAX, but we never got an answer. We tried again when we arrived in San Francisco. The line was busy, which was a good sign, but a different woman answered when I called a few minutes later.

“Hey,” I said, “who’s this?”

“Daphne. Who’s this?”

“Hey, Daphne! It’s Paul.”

“Paul…? Paul who?”

“Hughes. From Knoxville.”

“Knoxville? You sound like you’re in the next room.”

“We sort of are.” I explained about our layover.

“Oh. Okay. But… who’s ‘we’?”

“Sorry, I’m with Christy. You probably don’t remember her. Petite, blonde, bright blue eyes. She’s an artist.”

“Oh, her. Yeah, I remember her. She told people about Sara and me. She was nice to me after, though. She’s your girlfriend now?”

“Yeah. For about a month.” So much had happened that it seemed like longer, but we’d only been together—officially, at least—since Thanksgiving.

“She’s pretty,” Daphne said. “You should be happy with her.”

“I think so too. She’s… amazing.”

Christy herself blushed.

“Anyway,” I said to Daphne, “we were hoping to get together with Sara.

And you, of course.”

She fell silent, and I could imagine her trying to come up with an excuse.

“Sara isn’t here,” she said at last. “She’s working today. And… um… now maybe isn’t the best time.”

I heard something in her voice, and Christy’s hopeful expression fell as she read my own disappointment.

“You broke up?” I said to Daphne.

“Yeah. Did Sara tell you?”

“No, but we talked about it before the holidays.”

“Oh.”

“I’m sorry. For both of you. But you’ll survive. And… she told me about Austin.”

“She did?”

“Yeah. She wants you to be happy. So do I, for that matter.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Just say thank you. You deserve to be happy. As long as Austin treats you right.”

“He does.”

“Good. Don’t stick around if he doesn’t. Just tell Sara or me and we’ll kick his ass.”

She laughed, but I could imagine her sad smile.

“I mean it,” I said.

“Thank you. That means a lot.”

“I know. Okay, let’s talk about Sara. D’you know when she’ll be back?”

“No, sorry. She’s doing something for her gallery friend. She said I could come by while she was out and… pick up the rest of my things.”

“Ah, okay. I understand. Do you mind leaving her a note?”

“Not at all.”

“Tell her we’re sorry we missed her. Our flight to San Francisco was a last-minute thing. We’ll be here for another couple of hours, but—”

“Slow down. I can’t write that fast.”

“Sorry. Just tell her we love her and we’ll call when we get home to Knoxville.”

“Okay. And… thanks.”

“For what?”

“For caring. Sara needs a friend like you, a guy she can trust.”

“I know. You can trust me too. You know that, right? If you ever need anything—and I mean anything—just ask. Things didn’t work out between us, but I’ll always care about you.”

“Thanks, Paul. That means a lot.”

The silence threatened to draw out, so I said, “Hey, it was good talking to you.”

“It was good talking to you too.”

“And I hope you’re happy with Austin. You deserve a guy who treats you right.”

“Thank you.”

“Well, I’d better let you go. Take care, Daphne.”

“You too, Paul. I’ll leave the note for Sara. Sorry you missed her.”

“That’s all right. Like I said, it was a last-minute thing.”

“Okay. Well… goodbye.”

“Goodbye.” I hung up and sighed.

“What’s the matter?” Christy asked.

I thought about it for a long moment. “I don’t know if I can explain. I just… want her to be happy.”

“Daphne?”

“Yeah. The world really screwed her over, but instead of becoming stronger, like Sara, she built walls to protect herself and then retreated behind them.”

“I know what you mean.”

“And I’d like to find all the guys who did this to her and beat the shit out of them.”