Chapter 66: Home for the holidays

DEACON

There was nothing like coming home at Christmas.

When I got off the airplane in Orlando and walked into the main lobby of the airport, I felt as though I'd stepped into the middle of a holiday frenzy. The huge tree in the center of the terminal was covered with red bows and shiny balls, and all around me, people were buzzing, eager to get to their gate or to the baggage claim. Entire families were greeting loved ones at the end of the secured exit, squealing with excitement, while other groups were clearly theme park-bound.

There was no one to greet me when I pulled my wheeled duffle bag past the other passengers. No grandparents waved wildly and then pulled me into a warm hug . . . and no beautiful auburn-haired woman leaped into my arms. I wasn't surprised by the lack of a welcoming committee, because I hadn't told a damn soul that I was coming home.