"Ah, I'm sorry, Carter. We're leaving in an hour or so."
"Oh." He appeared surprised. "I thought you were staying here."
"No, sorry."
"Okay. Thanks for letting me down easy," he flashed a dazzling smile. "If you change your mind or … decide to stay in town, I'll be there shortly. I'm packing up soon to leave."
"Sure. Sounds good." I picked up my purse and offered my hand. "Nice talking to you."
"Thank you. So much." He was nearly gushing as he clasped mine in both of his.
Overwhelmed by his enthusiasm, my cheeks grew warm, and I laughed instead of answering. Pulling away, I waved and started towards the direction towards where I was supposed to meet my aunt and uncle. The tingling instinct that I knew him lingered. Not one to ignore my intuition, I halted.
"Wait, Carter, can I ask you something?" I asked, turning.
"Of course."
"Have we met before?"
He looked like I'd agreed to go on a date with him. His unguarded expressions were something I expected from a kid, not a full-grown man. "Does it feel like we have?" he asked with hushed awe.
My brow furrowed. I gave another small laugh, uncertain how to take his strange reaction. "Sorta. Like déjà vu."
"We haven't," he said. "But I'm really glad we did."
"Me, too." And I was, without really understanding why. His innocent, boyish charm made me want to tease him the way I did my youngest cousin or maybe, to ask him if he needed help doing his homework. I couldn't explain it, except that it wasn't physical attraction per se, more of a sense of being kindred spirits. My aunt believed in past lives and how we met the same souls over and over again throughout our many lives. I could almost believe it about Carter. "Bye."
Hopping off the raised wooden sidewalk, I strode across the street and glanced over my shoulder. Carter, the table and survey sign were gone.
Then I realized I had left too quickly to get my gift card. "Broke for another week." I sighed. "Oh, well."
I spotted my aunt - a slender woman with bleach-blonde hair - and jogged towards the middle of Tombstone. My uncle was short and squat in comparison, a Beverly Hills plastic surgeon with a warm smile and a wife he turned from pretty into an ageless beauty.
"Great news, Josie," my aunt started. Her loud words were like her dress - exaggerated. From the obscenely wide-brimmed hat to the bug-eyed sunglasses and fuchsia cowboy boots, there was no chance of my over-the-top aunt fitting into the dusty, laid back environment of Tombstone. "We're staying here tonight!"