Mistletoe Motel

1. Mack

Chapter 1

Mack

T he crackle of the airport’s PA system cut through the low hum of conversation in Watertown Regional Airport’s small terminal. Mack Harper looked up from her laptop, her fingers freezing mid-type.

“Attention passengers,” a tinny voice announced, the speaker’s forced cheerfulness barely masking their frustration. “Due to the winter storm, we regret to inform you that all flights scheduled for the next three hours have been cancelled. We apologize for any inconvenience. Please check with your airline’s desk for rebooking options.”

A collective groan rose from the scattered passengers. Mack slammed her laptop shut, shoving it into her messenger bag as she scrambled to her feet. She wasn’t about to let a little snow keep her from making it to Minneapolis for Christmas. Her sister’s baby was due any day now, and Mack had promised she’d be there.

She joined the quickly forming line at the airline desk, her hand instinctively moving to push back her teal-dyed hair. Tapping her foot impatiently, she glanced at her smartwatch and sighed. Yes, the storm was raging outside—in fact, she was lucky they were able to land here for her change over in the first place —but if she could just get on the next available flight, she might still make it home today.

Mack stepped up to the desk, flashing what she hoped was a winning smile at the tired-looking attendant. “Hi, any chance there’s a seat left on the six-p.m. flight to Minneapolis?”

“You’re in luck.” The attendant tapped away at her keyboard. “We do have one seat remaining. Let me just?—”

“Excuse me,” a voice interrupted from behind Mack. “I couldn’t help overhearing. Is there really only one seat left?”

Mack turned to see a young Asian American woman with a glossy black bob and dark eyes filled with worry.

“I’m sorry,” the attendant said, “but yes, we only have one seat available in economy. And this passenger,” she gestured to Mack, “is currently booking it.”

“Please.” The woman stepped closer to the desk, practically pushing Mack to the side. “I really need to get to Minneapolis. It’s extremely important. Isn’t there anything you can do?”

Mack felt a twinge of sympathy, but she squashed it down. “I’m sorry,” she said, trying to keep her voice neutral, “but I also need to get to Minneapolis. It’s important for me too.”

“You don’t understand. I have to be there for Christmas, and I’m a business-class passenger. I’ve paid more for my flight, so surely, that counts for something?”

Suppressing an urge to roll her eyes, Mack shook her head. “Everyone here needs to get home for Christmas, princess. Sorry. This seat is mine.”

“Don’t ‘princess’ me. How dare you! You don’t know me.” The woman’s expression hardened. “Fine,” she spat. “Enjoy your flight.”

“I’m not sure what makes her think she’s special,” Mack mumbled to the attendant, who had watched the exchange with a weary expression.

“I heard that!” the woman yelled over her shoulder as she stormed off. “Karma’s a bitch and you have it coming.”

Mack sighed and ignored the comment. “I’ll take the seat.” Behind her, she heard sighs and curses from other passengers who would be stuck in Watertown. She’d be late for dinner with her family, but at least she would make it home.

As the attendant processed her booking, Mack glanced in the direction the woman had gone. She spotted her on the phone in a corner, waving her hands around, no doubt cursing her to whoever she was talking to.

“Here you go, Ms. Harper. Merry Christmas.”

“Thank you. And Merry Christmas to you too.” Mack shot the attendant a sympathetic smile as she gestured to the queue behind her. “I hope they don’t give you too much of a hard time.”

With her new boarding pass in hand, she searched for a place to wait for her flight, but with the airport at maximum capacity, all seats were taken and she had to settle for the floor. Leaving from Seattle this morning, it had been a long day already, but she figured she’d use her time wisely to tie up loose ends at work before Christmas.

As a software engineer for a promising tech startup, Mack had been working on an innovative AI-driven personal assistant app. The project was designed to anticipate users’ needs based on their daily routines, calendar events, and even subtle changes in their tone of voice in order to assess their mental health. It was cutting-edge stuff, pushing the boundaries of natural language processing and machine learning.

The trip to Seattle had been to iron out some bugs in the speech recognition module. Mack had spent long days and even longer nights hunched over her laptop, tweaking algorithms and refining code. She’d made significant progress, but there were still a few persistent issues that needed addressing before the app could move to beta testing.

Half an hour crawled by, and then the PA system crackled to life once more.

“Attention passengers. We regret to inform you that due to worsening weather conditions, all remaining flights for today have been cancelled. The airport will be closing shortly. Our airline representatives will be available at the customer service desk to assist you with rebooking options and to provide information on discounted hotel rates for stranded passengers. We are working with local hotels to secure rooms, but please be aware that availability may be limited due to high demand. We apologize for the inconvenience and thank you for your understanding.”

The announcement hit Mack like a punch to the gut. She sat there, stunned, as chaos erupted around her. Passengers rushed to the airline desks, voices rising in anger and desperation. But Mack knew it was pointless. Long queues were already forming, and by the time it was her turn, there wouldn’t be any rooms left. She was stranded in Watertown, South Dakota, and she had to find a place to stay.

She pulled out her phone to call her sister, but the call wouldn’t go through. “Great,” she muttered, “cell towers must be down.” The airport Wi-Fi was down too, and her hotel booking app didn’t respond. While she kept trying to connect, Mack overheard fragments of conversations around her. Everyone was nervous about securing accommodations for the night. She heard mentions of the Watertown Inn, the Pine Lodge, something called the Mistletoe Motel, and several other motels outside town.

The reality of her situation crashed down on her. She needed to call her family, find a place to stay, figure out how to get to Minneapolis if the storm persisted tomorrow. Noting some people were already rushing outside toward the taxi stand, she decided she couldn’t afford to waste any more time. Not in Watertown while hundreds of passengers were stranded.

The blast of icy wind nearly knocked Mack off her feet as she stepped outside. Snow whirled around her, reducing visibility to mere feet. The world beyond was a blank white canvas, the familiar shapes of cars and buildings obscured by the relentless snowfall. The biting cold stung her exposed skin, and she pulled her scarf up over her nose.

As she trudged toward the taxi stand, her boots crunched through several inches of fresh powder. The wind howled, drowning out the sounds of frustrated travelers behind her. Snowflakes clung to her eyelashes, and she blinked rapidly, squinting against the onslaught.

The yellow glow of taxi headlights pierced through the white curtain ahead, and she quickened her pace. The race for shelter was only beginning.