Cain looked at the passenger next to him. “It’s been nice talking with you. I’ve got a long travel day ahead of me, so I’m gonna close my eyes for a bit. I hope you find a good movie to watch.”
“Do you have any recommendations?”
“You’ve Got Mail.”
She tilted her head and raised her eyebrows. “You like You’ve Got Mail?”
“What can I say?” He smiled. “I’m a sucker for romantic comedies. And Tom Hanks is a great actor.”
“I agree with you. It’s one of my favorites. That and When Harry Met Sally…”
“You’ll find ’em under the Classics category. Enjoy the movie.” He jotted a few last-minute notes in his journal before nodding off.
After landing in DC, Cain collected his luggage and walked out of the airport. The sun’s rays aggravated his migraine. He rummaged through his backpack for a pair of aviators to shield him from the brightness. He found his government car, parked at long-term parking. Had I known this mission was going to be cut short, I would have splurged for short-term parking. He cranked the sedan, rolled the window down, and hit I-66 eastbound.
Most people complained about DC’s traffic, but not him. He recognized the trade-off: being able to experience the history and museums. He saw a road sign advertising the Smithsonian’s National Air and Space Museum at the Steven F. Udvar-Hazy Center, one of his favorite places to visit when he wasn’t working. It always brought back good childhood memories of his dad, Claude, teaching him and Bonnie how to fly. Claude still owned and operated a small crop-dusting business near Lafayette, Louisiana.
Cain pulled curbside in front of his two-bedroom town house. The American flag above his porch blew lightly in the wind. He noticed two packages by his door. He grabbed them on his way inside the house. Although he had moved to DC two years prior, most of his belongings were still packed in cardboard boxes. He weaved through the maze of unopened boxes and headed straight to the kitchen.
He was parched. He grabbed a bottle of water and looked at his packages. One had a customs form and Japanese characters. He found himself feeling cheerful for the first time in days at the sight of her handwriting. It was a gift, and he knew who had sent it. He ripped open the parcel.
Chapter 11
Cain’s nightmare engulfed him. He twitched in his sleep and was relieved when his cell phone buzzed on his hip, waking him. He saw that he was still sitting in the recliner, still wearing yesterday’s clothes. I must have been more tired than I thought.
“Hello?” he answered groggily.
There was no reply. He cleared his throat. “Hello?”
“Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to the best twin brother in the world.”
Cain smiled and joined in on the last line of the chorus: “Happy birthday to you!”
They both laughed a similar chuckle.
“How’s my favorite brother?” Bonnie asked.
“Better now that I’m talking to you. How’s life in Tokyo?”
“It’s busy! It’s five thirty in the afternoon and I’m still at work. Picking up another shift. But I couldn’t not call my favorite brother on our birthday.”
“Well, I’m glad you called. Even if it is three thirty in the morning here.”
“The time difference is horrible!”
“Half the time my body doesn’t even know what time zone it’s in. But I was so excited to see your gift yesterday. The Japanese instrumental CD is perfect. It worked as advertised. I listened to it for a bit and it helped me fall asleep.”
“You’re home? I thought you were in South America.”
“It’s a long story.”
“I always have time for your long stories.”
“Well, I was, but a bunch of us got recalled. Some colleagues enjoyed the company of some local women, and one agent in particular kicked his date out in the morning without paying her. She—”
“Without paying her? So, you mean a prostitute?”
“Anyway,” Cain continued. “She started a scene, so I paid her what I had before the police got involved.”
“Ooh, this sounds good. Who was it?”
“I’ll give you three guesses, but you’re probably only going to need one.”
“If I get it right on the first try, will you come out to Japan?”
“Ha!”
“I bet it was Tomcat. He’s such a cochon.”
“Bingo!” Cochon means “pig” in French. “We got back yesterday. We have to answer to management later on today.”
“What’s the worst that can happen to you?”
“They could fire me.”
“Fire you?” She scoffed. “Nobody is going to fire you.”