Stranded in Paradise Read Online Free PDF Page B

flowered lei, and she didn’t spot a single hula girl. Swallowing an odd sense of disappointment, she limped on. Maybe Don Ho was waiting for her in the baggage claim.
    I’m in paradise, she thought. I’m going to relax, bake on the beach, and forget about Len Connor. She wondered if he’d figured out the new 401(k) deductions they’d worked on with the new investment broker. No doubt Chuck would have it all buttoned down in no time.
    As she approached baggage claim an energetic preschooler throwing a full-blown temper tantrum caught her attention. He was screaming and kicking his feet on the floor as his nervous-looking mother pled in a mousy voice, “Now, Tommy, you won’t get any gum that way. Please be a good boy for Mommy.” Tommy bounced back up and bolted away from his mother . . . straight at Tess.
    Suddenly paralyzed in the face of the oncoming disaster, she tried to sidestep the human missile but Tommy must’ve had a homing device because he changed course with her.
    The sudden impact knocked her breathless as she threw her weight solidly on her sprained ankle. She bellowed at the sheer agony that shot up her leg as her purse and briefcase went flying. Again.
    At precisely the same moment, her right eye blurred. She slapped a hand over her eye to save the dislodged contact but it was too late.
    â€œThomas Lee! You stop this moment!” The child’s mother marched over to take the little imp by the scruff of the neck from where he lay sprawled at her feet. Tommy’s mother turned the child toward her. “What have I told you about running?! Say you’re sorry to this nice lady for bumping into her!”
    The harried mother turned to Tess who by now had dropped to her hands and knees and was crawling frantically around on the floor of the terminal, desperately groping for the missing contact lens.
    â€œIt’s all right,” Tess muttered. “I’m sure Thomas didn’t mean any harm—” Where was the thing? It couldn’t have gone far!
    She was as blind as Mr. Magoo without her contacts. She smiled gratefully when other blurs she assumed were people paused to offer help with the search. Soon four other travelers were on their hands and knees scanning the multicolored tile.
    The contrite mother had a firm grip on her young son now. The boy stood rooted to the spot as Tess crawled around on the polished floor.
    â€œI’m so sorry about your contact,” the mother repeated.
    â€œDon’t worry,” Tess assured her. “I have my glasses with me.”
    The boy crossed his arms and looked up at his mother. “Sowwy,” he finally managed.
    She smiled at the blurred image. “It’s quite all right— but don’t run anymore. You’ll hurt yourself.”
    The mother ushered her son through the crowd as she gathered her personal belongings and thanked her co-searchers before limping steadfastly toward the luggage carousel.

    The luggage hadn’t arrived, so she stepped to a nearby pay phone. Her cell phone was buried in her luggage, a mistake she realized in the cab. She searched her purse and coat pockets for change, but all she managed to come up with were six pennies, a nasty-looking nickel that had part of a breath mint stuck to it, and a Canadian coin she had picked up somewhere.
    By the time she’d limped to the nearest newsstand for change and limped back, all the phones were in use. She patiently waited while a frazzled-looking housewife gave instructions to her husband and children. “I left some TV dinners in the freezer for tonight. And there’s some lettuce and tomatoes for a salad—oh, I forgot to buy Ranch dressing . . .” the woman kept going. When the lady finally ran out of time and dashed off to catch her shuttle ride, Tess moved up to the phone. She dropped her coins into the slot and tapped out Beeg’s work number. She breathed a sigh of relief when she heard