Traffic had been terrible, and she arrived with just moments to spare. She parked quickly in the parking lot designated ARRIVALS and vaulted into the terminal. She was relieved to find that the passengers from the Los Angeles flight had yet to arrive at baggage claim. Erinn had a habit of playing out scenes in her head before they happened. Ever since she was a child, she would try to figure out how a particular event would occur. When she was in grade school, she used to get her report card and, on the way home, create the scene of domestic bliss that would certainly transpire when her parents saw yet another semester of straight As. As she got older, Erinn added subplots. On the way home from high school, she would write her parents’ dialogue not only praising her accomplishments but also the speeches required to admonish Suzanna, who had only just started grade school, for her less-than-stellar performances. Sometimes, she would write a scene so convincingly that if it didn’t happen exactly as she had planned, she was at a loss for how to deal with the reality.
