THE CHECK-IN LINE was abnormally long, even for a Friday. With twenty minutes remaining before departure time, there were eight San Francisco-bound passengers standing in line ahead of Dennis and John. While she was still several paces from him, John turned toward her. He’d obviously been watching the entrance to the terminal, waiting for her.
Smiling, she spontaneously held out her hand to him. “Come on, John. I’ll buy you an ice-cream bar while your dad’s checking the suitcases.”
The boy stepped quickly toward her, his satchel on the floor, forgotten. But, just as quickly, Price frowned, dropped a hand to his son’s shoulder. “Let him stay here, Janice. He doesn’t need anything to eat after that lunch. Especially ice cream.”