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live with Mom. That was a special kind of hell I would
stave off as long as I could.
    “Fine. I’ll do it. But tell Connie I’m in
charge.”
    And now here I was—waiting for a cousin I’d
hardly seen in years, and a big pile of work waiting for me back at
the house. At least my life was getting more interesting.
    I stood at the terminal, suddenly aware that
while Connie didn’t care how I looked, the people around me were
probably thinking I was a homeless person who wandered in to sleep
on these uncomfortable chairs. I hadn’t taken a shower, I wasn’t
wearing any make-up, I was sure I smelled, wearing an old ripped
sweatshirt and faded jeans stained from bleach and dirt. Could I
look more like a vagrant? I was never one to worry about looking
perfect, but even this was pushing my limits. I looked at the other
people around me and realized that, in reality, they could probably
care less. No one was giving me a second look.
    Turning towards the escalator I saw Connie
floating down to my level. She was wearing a long, printed, silky
dress, and her golden hair hung in soft ringlets past her
shoulders. She was wearing an assortment of necklaces that looked
as if she had just flung on whatever was available, yet on her they
looked totally charming. It always took me by surprise how
beautiful she was. She didn’t even have to try. I smiled when I
noticed a young man next to her, staring with a bemused look on his
face. Another one bites the dust, I thought. But who could blame
him? Connie had a delightful way of making the most mundane event
fun and exciting. You couldn’t help but fall for her. Perhaps my
catty comments were more out of envy than I cared to admit. As she
walked towards me her smile lit up the room.
    “Cuz!” she exclaimed gathering me into her
arms for a tight hug, as if we were still the best of friends.
“What a treat to have you pick me up. I can’t wait to tell you all
about my trip. It was crazy!”
    The man who had been gaping at her stopped
next to us. I started to feel uncomfortable as he stood there
listening to us while Connie didn’t even acknowledge his presence.
I looked at him and snapped, “What?”
    “Oh, don’t worry about Jim, we met on the
plane.” Connie turned to the man and pointed, directing him. “You
can go stand over there next to the carousel. I’ll come over when
it starts moving and let you know which bags are mine.”
    I looked at Connie perplexed as Jim did
exactly as he was told without complaint. “Did you adopt him?”
    Connie laughed. “You know how men are. He
just wanted to be helpful. My bags are really heavy so ... you
know. He’s adorable in that little puppy dog way, don’t you think?”
She smiled and waved at him. He smiled back and I had to agree.
There was something. The big, brown eyes reminded me of my dad’s
old yellow lab.
    “You’re not planning to keep him, are
you?”
    “No, you know they’re such a chore to take
care of.” She winked at me naughtily.
    “You really need to teach me how to do that,”
I said, laughing.
    Connie had four large suitcases at baggage
claim for us to retrieve, and I wondered how many clothes one
person could need just for a vacation. We headed out to my car and
watched Jim wrestle two suitcases into the trunk and the other two
into the back seat. Connie then dismissed her new-found friend who
insisted he give her his phone number before leaving. She took it
graciously and promised to call, but anyone not hypnotized by
Connie’s charisma could easily tell that would never happen.
    “Isn’t it expensive to travel with four bags
these days?” I asked.
    “Yeah, but it’s worth a little extra money to
always make a good impression,” she answered, looking at my
clothes. Then we both burst out laughing.
    Since Connie’s flight was delayed, that meant
we’d be right in the middle of rush hour traffic, which I hated.
Nevertheless, I got back on I-494 and settled in for some
white-knuckle driving as we