When the Wind Chimes - Mary Ting

Chapter One — Unexpected Passenger

“Jingle Bells” blasted at Lihue airport on Kauai, only I wasn’t dashing through the snow. I was sprinting through the terminal with a carry-on duffel bag hiked over my shoulder and a smaller one clutched in my hand.

Outside the terminal, dark gray clouds clumped like gloomy snowballs. Rain was imminent. All the travelers scurrying over the tile floor toward the doors had the same plan—to catch a cab before the downpour.

Footsteps pounded around and past me. People bumped into me as I hurried along. My duffel bag became heavier the longer I carried it. Even as I struggled to keep pace with the flow, I admired the garland adorned with red baubles, coiled around the pillars.

The beautiful twelve-foot Christmas tree with twinkling lights distracted me as I passed, and I almost ran into someone who’d stopped in the walkway.

“Sorry. Excuse me,” I said. Good grief, Kate. Pay attention before you do some damage.

He waved a hand with an affable grin and tugged his rolling suitcase away.

I arrived breathless at the outside baggage center, sweat beading my forehead, but was soothed by the sweet fragrance permeating the air. In every direction were kiosks selling handmade leis, some with beads or coconut shells. A lady waved a pink fresh-flower lei in my face, but I politely declined and walked toward the taxi line under an awning about fifty yards away.

The cool wind kissed my cheeks and tousled my long brunette hair, and I pulled my unbuttoned sweater off. Seventy-two-degree weather didn’t warrant a sweater even with the rain. As soon as I joined the line for a cab, the sky unleashed its wrath and water pelted the ground like bullets.

This line will take forever.

People squeezed shoulder-to-shoulder under the awning while they waited to catch a shuttle or flag down a taxi. All the line jostling caused my neighbor to bump my arm when a suitcase slammed into him. My eyes watered as someone’s strong perfume fought with the fragrant leis. I grimaced and wondered what had happened to personal space. “A Holly Jolly Christmas” belted through the outside speakers, but the crowd and weather offered no cheer.

I had promised my sister she could count on me this year for Christmas, especially since I hadn’t been there last year. I couldn’t wait to spend time with her and my nephew. The last time I had seen them had been in early spring for my brother-in-law’s funeral in New York where they used to live.

I pulled out my phone to text my sister to let her know I had arrived.

Abby: I’m sorry I couldn’t pick you up.

Me: Don’t worry. I’m on my way.

As I pushed send, a taxi pulled up and parked across the street.

Abby: Good. Tyler and I can’t wait to see you.

I had two choices: stay dry under the awning and wait for my turn, or grab the taxi across the street.

Forget staying dry. Forget waiting in line.

“Taxi!” I waved frantically as I made a mad dash with my head lowered against the pouring rain. The likelihood of snatching that taxi was slim. But I had to try. I kicked at the puddles with every step, my socks soaking water up.

A few cars honked as I dodged past. Not a good idea. “Sorry,” I bellowed. A roll of thunder drowned out my voice.

The wind had kicked up and practically pushed me across the road. With my luggage trying to take flight, I felt like Mary Poppins, only less graceful and more drenched to the bone.

Not a good idea? More like horrible, dangerous, idiotic idea. I could have been hit by a distracted driver. Or I could have slipped, and in the rain, no one would spot me until I’d been flattened. What was I thinking?

But I made it safely across.

I jerked open the door and threw my bags—and my soggy self—into the back.

“Hi.” I flipped my damp hair to the side and checked that I’d closed the door. My cold wet clothes stuck to me like a second skin, I sighed with relief and positioned the smaller bag on my lap. “Poipu, please.”

Beside me, someone cleared his throat.

I gasped and jerked, my heart thundering with the storm. I hadn’t expected anyone else in the backseat, especially a good-looking man with slicked-back dark hair and wide, annoyed eyes.

He smoothed the lapel of his out of place, but classy, gray tailored suit. Who flew to Kauai in business attire? He sure smelled nice, though. A scent of cedar and pine permeated