I know this game. He just wants to avoid me right now, and then when we get to the restaurant we’ll be in front of Mom and Sam and we’ll have to make nice. Maybe he thinks if enough time passes without us talking about last night, it’ll get too awkward for me to raise again.

I’m flexing my fingers, deliberating between writing back a terse Fine, or something more combative, when my phone lights up with a call in front of me.

Dennis.

“Gillian?” he says when I pick up; I can tell he’s somewhere loud.

“Hi! What’s going on?”

“I’m afraid we’re running into some issues here,” he says, with the air of someone who’s trying to keep the show on the road while the show has other ideas. “They’re demonstrating again,” he goes on. “At the airport.”

“What? Who’s demonstrating?” I try to keep up.

“The rebel groups,” he says, and I realize I might have known more about all this if I’d been paying attention to the news the last couple of weeks. “We’re all being issued with a travel advisory to avoid the airport for the next twenty-four hours.”

He clears his throat.

“Gillian, my flight’s canceled.”

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen

“Canceled?” I say.

“I’m not in any danger,” he clarifies, which hadn’t really occurred to me until then. “It’s just unclear when they’re going to be able to clear the demonstrators and reschedule our flights. Last time they demonstrated right through the night.”

“So…you’re not going to make your flight.” I’m stating the obvious, but my brain’s still a little behind.

“No, Gillian. I’m sorry. I’ll keep you posted, but I’m expecting this to be resolved within the next twenty-four hours tops.” He clears his throat. “Is it okay for Sam to stay with you an extra day?”

“I mean…of course.” I feel a bit dazed. I hope he’s right about those estimates. “You really think this will be cleared up soon?” I say.

He assures me that it will.

“It’s all par for the course out here, I’m afraid. They might even be rescheduling the flights by tonight.”

“Okay,” I say, wondering what Oliver’s take will be. “Well…just keep us posted, I guess…”

“I will. Is Sam there?”

“I’ll get him.”

I walk the phone upstairs to Sam’s room, wincing a little in anticipation. Sam’s mood has been such a tempest today and this I’m sure is not going to help.

“Sam? It’s your dad on the phone.”

Silence.

“Sam?”

“I’ll talk to him later.”

“He needs to talk to you now, Sam. It’s important.”

The door cracks open and Sam’s flushed face glances up at me, a hint of anxiety behind the belligerent look.