I looked up at the big board announcing arrivals. My mother’s flight had just landed in Toronto, and she and Aunt Debbie would be through customs soon. The plan had always been for me to pick them up after the cruise. What they wouldn’t know was that my plane had gotten in from London an hour before their flight, and I’d just cleared customs and stashed my bag in the trunk of the car. I’d had time to send a couple of texts—one to Steve to tell him I had landed, and the other to Spencer, telling him I was back from my adventure and would be picking up his mother along with mine and driving her home. Neither had answered back yet.
Now that I was standing here in the airport, the whole last week seemed like a strange dream. Spies, guns, being kidnapped and held hostage, assorted car chases…somehow, those things all seemed more real than my time with Charlie. We’d spent the entire time on the first and second of January pushing Doris around London in a wheelchair, seeing the sights and meeting what seemed like all of her wonderful family, who were so kind to me. Except for Charles, who was still a git.
It was all pretty unbelievable. And, of course, unworkable. We lived six time zones and one big ocean apart. She was moving on with her life, and I was going on with mine. Still, we’d agreed that I’d come back—as originally planned—for a couple of weeks during the summer, along with my brother, Steve. I had to admit, I understood better now why he’d had to get back to Spain so soon.
I was looking forward to seeing my mother. I figured I’d let her settle in for a few days before I told her where I’d been and what I’d discovered. Before any of the cousins did anything, though, we all had to talk—share what we’d discovered and agree on what we were going to tell our parents. That meeting, I was looking forward to. What came after we told our parents, not so much.
The big doors slid open and my mother appeared, pulling her suitcase, pushed along with the crowd of other passengers. She waved and smiled when she saw me, and I waved back. I was so happy to see her. But where was Auntie Debbie?
I ran over and threw my arms around her. It was good to have her back safe and sound.
“How was the trip?” I asked.
“Very relaxing, for the most part.”
“Where’s Auntie Debbie?”
“Unfortunately, she got called away on business and had to leave early. And how were things with you?”
Her tone of voice worried me. “Things were good, fine, uneventful.”
“Really? If this is uneventful, I wonder what you’d consider an event.”
She handed me a newspaper. It was opened to a photo of me and Charlie in Trafalgar Square, kissing. The headline said, Our Charlie with a Colonial !
My mouth dropped open. “I can explain.”
“I’m sure you can, and you will,” she said. “But before that, I have one question. Is she a nice girl?”
“Top two,” I replied.
“Who’s the other?”
I pointed at her, and she laughed. “If you think you’re going to charm your way out of this one, well, you’re probably right. And you’re going to have to tell me everything.”
“I can tell you,” I said. “Of course, that doesn’t mean you’re going to believe me. It all began at the cottage…”