Another pause. “No, you cannot talk to her.” Claire mouthed, Her? Jack waved her off.
“Her name is Claire. We met forty minutes ago. This is not an announcement.” He sighed. “Merry Christmas to you too.”
He hung up and leaned his forehead briefly against the metal phone housing. “Your mother?” Claire asked. “Efficiently curious.”
“Mine too.” “Maybe they’re on a national network.” They checked the rebooking board together.
The next confirmed flight to their destination was listed for 9:40 the following morning, weather permitting. Standby options existed at midnight and 5:15, but no one would promise anything. Hotel vouchers were limited and going first to passengers with children or medical needs. The airport itself was staying open.
Claire stared at the board. “Nine-forty gets me there after the ceremony starts.” Jack read the same line. “Maybe the midnight standby clears.”
“You believe that?” “No.” She glared at him. “But I believe pretending may improve morale.”
Claire crossed her arms. “Do you always joke when things are bad?” “Almost exclusively.” “Why?”
He looked at her, and for the first time the answer did not arrive dressed for entertainment. “Because my father used to make every problem feel like a verdict. I decided early I preferred problems that stayed problems.” Claire did not know what to say to that.