I woke to bright sunlight and a grumpy disposition. From the cool freshness of my husband's pillow, Quaid hadn't been home at all through the night. Way to add to my bad mood as I spun scenarios in my head going from bad to worse-as simple as him falling asleep in his office chair to dying a horrible, flaming death at the hands of some enemy. Of course, the touch of his power as steady as ever disproved my worrywart ways, which only added to the irritation I felt he wasn't there for me to question about his absence.
Rather than contact him mentally and overreact so badly I ended up screaming at him across the plane, I stuffed down my annoyance and began my own day. A shower helped somewhat, the hot water washing away some of my old anger and frustration. But it was the touch of my mother'
