Faith’s cloud rode the wind faster than Jay could clamber after her. She zipped up cliffs and over divots. He had to search for shallower paths and leap over trenches in the steepening terrain. Soon Jay lost sight of her, but he continued to trudge up the slopes. Occasionally he glimpsed a pinprick of white against the mountainside, but always lost it when the wind whipped it left and right.
Dan bit his nails pacing back and forth in the airport lobby. Each time he reversed direction he checked the electronic schedule on the opposite wall. Jay’s flight filtered to the top as his arrival time approached.
“How much longer, Dainty?” Faith stretched across four seats, threading herself under three armrests. “Why’d we have to get here so early?”
“His flight should be here in half an hour.” Dan wiped condensation off the window to scan the misty morning skies for the shape of an airplane. The landing-strips were frosted and dewy. “I wanted to beat traffic.”
“There’ll be no beating traffic on the way back,” said Faith. “It’ll be rush-hour. Maybe I should drive us all home, so you don’t have to worry.”
“I can drive us home.”
“Are you sure?” Faith now crawled on top of the armrests. She wore a heavy green sweater, as the clouds were colored an auspicious rainy gray. “You always bite your fingertips when you’re anxious, Dainty. If you have to drive through stop-and-go traffic you’ll bleed on the steering wheel.”