Free Yield by Bryan K. Johnson

Katherine laughs. They slow to 20mph as she pilots through the twisting laps encircling Portland International Airport. “ Northwest, right? ”
    “ Yeah. ”
    She pulls to a stop in front of the airline ’ s busy unloading area. Bags and bodies move all around. The sharp cry of traffic officers echoes back from the arched metal overhangs. Their whistles impose harsh order upon the pedestrians and cars moving through the airport.
    “ Put in a good word for me, ” Devin pleads. His grip hesitates on the cold, silver door handle.
    “ Somewhere, ” Kat says, putting a hand lovingly up to her husband ’ s face, “ way deep down, I think, she knows you ’ re not that bad. At least for an Englishman, that is. ”
    “ Thanks, love, ” he laughs. Devin ’ s breath catches as he looks back at his wife ’ s smiling face. The sunlight glitters through the windows into her rippled blond hair. Almost uncontrollably, his body leans forward to kiss her, his lips lingering longer than usual against hers. Reassurance draws from her as their skin meets. The swirling fears that race through Devin ’ s mind begin to slow.
    “ See you tonight, ” he says, pulling the handle and opening the door to uncertainty. He leans out and stretches his solid frame. Devin smooths down the front of his silver tie and buttons up the navy blue suit coat in preparation for a day of untold promise. With a confident swagger back in his step, the fireman strides toward the spinning panes inside PDX ’ s large, revolving glass entry. He pushes down the urge to take a final backward glance at the woman he loves. Gritting his teeth instead, he looks straight ahead as she merges out into the airport ’ s gathering traffic.
     

Chapter 5
     
     
    7:48 a.m.
    Countless on-ramps spew impatience onto an already congested interstate. Tiered lanes of eager drivers slow as they move through waves of rain.
    Katherine navigates her speeding van through traffic along I-5 on the way to Portland International Airport. P ushing down her all-too-familiar fear of conflict, Kat sighs. Playing arbitrator between two of the most important people in her life is taxing even on the best of days, let alone while trying to make up time.
    “ When did you tell her I got fired? ” Devin asks. The disgraced fireman sits silently fuming. Metal status symbols swarm like bees all around them. Drivers hungry for an advantage seize their moments quickly, no matter the size or cost. Devin always hated driving into the city.
    “ They ’ re smart kids, ” Katherine gently says. “ There was no way we were going to be able to keep it a secret. ”
    The driver alongside them slams his horn after a merging semi-truck cuts him off. The offended driver gestures angrily through his windshield. The expression makes Devin even more agitated.
    “ I ’ ll talk to her, ” Katherine says, reassuringly taking his hand.
    “ I can ’ t even have a conversation with her anymore, ” he says. Devin turns expectantly to his wife for agreement. “ Not without wanting to strangle her damn neck. ”
    “ It ’ s called puberty, Devin. They can ’ t stay kids forever. ”
    “ I know, ” he sighs. “ It just seemed to hit in a hurry. ” He looks back out at the wet landscape. Grass along the freeway is a vibrant green, the trees lush and plentiful as they grow oblivious to humanity ’ s fears. “ She went from zero to rebellious in a summer. When did we lose control? ”
    Katherine squeezes her husband ’ s hand. A restrained smile creases the edges of her mouth. “ Do you honestly think we ever had it? ”
    “ Well … some, ” he stammers. “ More than now, anyways. ”
    As they pass the white-lettered, green sign for PDX, Katherine signals and changes into the right-hand lane. An errant puddle hiding in the deep grooves catches her tires. “ She is right, you know, ” Kat says softly. Her shoulders tighten, trying to steady the hydroplaning tires.
    She sees her husband ’ s head