Slay Bells - Hildie McQueen Page 0,4
keeping an eye out for the tall hunk. Thankfully, the man she’d tripped was on the other side and far enough away it was impossible to harm him.
White Christmas screeched over a sound system, filling the air with some sort of attempt at a holiday feel. It would have been easier on the ears if the song wasn’t blaring through speakers in dire need of replacement.
Just as the red light flashed and the carousel jerked to a start, the hunk appeared. He walked with an older woman who spoke animatedly, her hands moving with each word while he nodded every so often.
“How sweet,” Gabriela whispered to herself. Patient and caring. Another two items to check off her “perfect man list”. Actually, those two things were not on her list. She added them for him.
Her black and white polka dot suitcase went by and she ignored it. One more turn would not hurt while she kept an eye to see where Hunky man and the woman decided to stand.
They kept walking, coming closer and closer, and she couldn’t keep from smiling.
“Excuse me.” A woman tapped her arm and looked at her matching carry-on. “Isn’t that your suitcase?” Indeed her suitcase was passing by again.
“I think it is,” Gabriela replied not moving to the carousel. “I’ll get it next time it comes around.” The woman shook her head and gave her a look that clearly said. “Wierdo.”
Rocking around the Christmas Tree blared then. Someone needed to turn the darn music down.
An elderly woman toddled over and tugged what looked to be Gabriela’s suitcase off the carousel. She wondered if perhaps the old woman had the same pattern as hers. Upon spotting her bright pink luggage tag, Gabriela rushed over. “That’s my bag.”
The white-haired woman didn’t relinquish her hold on the handle. “I don’t think so honey. This one is mine.”
Gabriela smiled, trying to keep calm. “If you read the bright pink tag there, you’ll see my name is on it. Gabriela Diaz.”
The woman pointed an arthritic finger at her. “If you don’t back off, I’m calling for security. You’re probably one of those bag nabbers.”
“What?” Gabriela looked around, but other than a couple people who watched with bored expressions, she didn’t see any airport personnel nearby.
She caught sight of another suitcase on the carousel. It was also black and white polka dots. It was a bit smaller and had larger dots and a green sash on the handle.
“Look!” she exclaimed with the energy of a Labrador on speed. “I bet that’s yours.”
“Well don’t just stand there, take your ugly bag,” the woman snapped, pushing Gabriela’s suitcase away. “That’s my suitcase.” She pointed at the carousel.
The old woman shoved her aside and toddled to the carrousel. She tugged at a suitcase, but it didn’t budge.
“I think your grandmother needs help,” a teenager stated.
“Ah.” Gabriela couldn’t think of what else to say. Not only was the woman a white-haired Caucasian, but she was also definitely nothing like her Mexican-American abuelita. Deciding it was best to help so that people didn’t think she was mean to her grandma, Gabriela let out a resigned sigh and reached for the woman’s bag.
At the same time, the old woman yanked the bag off the carousel. The woman stumbled backward gaining momentum that sent them both stumbling backwards. Gabriela’s heel hit her luggage and before she knew it, she was on her back, staring at the ceiling.
I’ll be home for Christmas screeched over the sound system.
The old woman looked down at her. “Now, which one is mine?”
Gabriela pointed to the one next to her. “This one.” She sat up and let out a breath, not daring to look around.
“Oh good.” The woman grabbed the handle and smiled down at her. “Don’t sit on the floor dear, it’s probably very dirty.”
Gabriela did her best to get up gracefully. She kept her gaze down as she hoisted the purse strap onto her shoulder. “You okay?”
Her head jerked up. She’d forgotten all about hunky man, who now stood in front of her, with a crooked grin. “Seems you’re having a hard time there.”
“Ah…no…I mean yeah. Thanks.” So much for giving a good first impression. Her words kept coming out as if she’d reverted to eighth grade. “I got it…them…my bags.”
“Okay.” He turned to the older woman. “Ready Aunt Rita?”
The woman gave Gabriela a warm smile before looking to her nephew. “Ready as ever.”
Arms at her sides and shoulders rounded, Gabriela watched the handsome man walk away.
She’d certainly made a grand fool of