The 2012 Christmas Story
ENDING THE YEAR ON A GOOD NOTE by Rob Perkins
A ragged cheer arose from most of the passengers as the Airbus jet landed at Ronald Reagan Washington National Airport. Chuck just shook his head and smiled. A blizzard in the Midwest had turned what was originally a three-hour flight from Denver into a ten-hour adventure, including an unexpected detour and landing in San Antonio. He was home, though, and that was all that mattered.
"Welcome to Washington, D.C.," announced the pilot over the intercom as the jet taxied down the runway towards the A terminal. "It is five minutes after 11:00 PM, and the temperature outside is a nice balmy 27 degrees Fahrenheit." The young couple sitting behind Chuck groaned loudly, which elicited a few chuckles from nearby seats. " The winds are brisk this evening, running about 15 to 20 miles per hour from the west. We thank you for flying with us today, especially your patience as we dodged the wintry weather in Chicago and St. Louis. I know you will be wanting to get home in time to see the ball drop in Times Square, but please keep your seatbelts on until we have arrived at the gate. Once again, for the entire flight crew, and Ozzy the Orca, whose picture adorns the tail and wing tips of our jet, we thank you for flying Frontier Airlines, and have a good night."
Being at the back of the aircraft, it was another twenty minutes before Chuck walked off the plane and onto the jet bridge. The side door to the bridge was open, as a baggage handler was returning a child stroller that had to be checked to a young couple travelling with their one-year-old baby. Cold wintry air filled the bridge, and Chuck could see his breath as he exhaled. The warmth returned as he stepped through the gate inside the terminal. Nine gates and departure lounges were spread around the huge circular room, with a coffee and pastry kiosk serving as the central hub. Except for his fellow passengers and a small cleaning crew, the room was empty. Chuck shivered momentarily; he much preferred when the room was filled with people than when it was empty.
Chuck could hear the echoes from his footsteps off the concrete walls as he walked down the hallway towards the ticket counters and baggage carousels. The Hudson News, Fabulously Fresh, and Jerry's Subs and Pizza shops were all closed. He could then hear his stomach rumble, having not had anything to eat since boarding the flight in Denver. All he wanted to do was to go home, take a long hot shower, and cook up a quick dinner, but there was business to take care of first. He ran a hand through his short brown hair and sighed. Business always came first.
As he arrived at the baggage carousels, Chuck spotted Kathy and Leanne. Kathy was the company's senior data courier, as well as his housemate, while Leanne was their supervisor. The two women had vastly different personalities. While serious and focused while on the job, Kathy was relaxed and playful while at home, and she always managed to have a friendly smile and a kind word for everyone she met. Leanne, however, lived and breathed for the company. As supervisor of the data couriers, she kept a close eye on Kathy's and his whereabouts while transmitting data between the company and their network of scientists and programmers across the country. Unlike Kathy, Leanne was always in work mode. Even now, when meeting him at the airport, she wore a formal two-piece business suit underneath her trench coat, while Kathy had opted for blue jeans, a white sweater, and a red ski jacket.
Unzipping his laptop bag, Chuck pulled out a blue opaque anti-static bag that contained two flash drives filled with encrypted scientific data. He did not know what was on the flash drives; as a courier, it was his responsibility not to know. His company - Innovative Research Incorporated - coordinated scientific research between the Department of Homeland Security and a number of private scientific think tanks. The project data contained on the flash drives was rated as top secret security clearance, and it could not be transmitted over either telephone lines or the Internet, which necessitated the use of couriers. Although having a top secret security clearance himself, as did all IRI couriers, Chuck could not take a peek at the data, or else he would face a number of serious consequences.
"Good evening, Leanne," said Chuck as he handed the bag to his supervisor. "Dr. Jennings wanted me to tell you that the company will be pleased with his findings."
"We better be," she replied matter-of-factly, carefully placing the bag in her briefcase. "Those findings are over a month behind schedule."
"Ah," uttered Chuck, not quite knowing how to respond. "Well," he continued, deciding to change the subject, "at least we will get to spend the first day of the new year sleeping in our own beds."
"Don't get too comfortable," warned Leanne. "We're sending you out to Boston on the morning of the second. We will deliver your itinerary to the apartment by 6:00 PM tomorrow." With briefcase securely in hand, she nodded to Kathy, then Chuck. "Good evening." She then turned around and walked out of the terminal and into the cold and windy D.C. night.
The initial feeling of frustration Check felt upon hearing her warning had, by the time Leanne exited the terminal, turned into resignation. He had just spent the last eight days crisscrossing the country, even traveling from Cleveland to Houston on Christmas day, to collect all the data he gave Leanne tonight. Having only one day at home to recover before heading back out on the road was just ridiculous. He knew there would be constant travel when he took the job. He never realized how short the turnaround time between trips would be, or its effects on his aging body.
Kathy quietly placed her right hand inside his left hand and gently squeezed it. His thoughts interrupted by her touch, Chuck squeezed her hand in response. A few seconds later, he let out a heavy sigh. "At least she could have wished us a happy new year." Kathy chuckled as they turned and joined the crowd milling around the Frontier Airlines baggage carousel.
A sea of weary faces surrounded the entire carousel, their eyes focused on the television monitors atop either side of the carousel. The monitors, which usually showed the airport news channel, had been switched to the ABC live broadcast from Times Square. According to the overly enthusiastic Jenny McCarthy, less than thirty minutes remained in the year 2012.
"And not a moment too soon," thought Chuck to himself as he watched the camera pan across the revelers gathered in Times Square. Without question, 2012 had been the worst year of his life. It started in February, when his mother died in a traffic accident. While returning home from visiting a friend, she drove through a red light and was hit on the driver's side by another car. By the time 9-1-1 was called and the paramedics arrived on the scene, she was already gone. Chuck spent the next month-and-a-half shuttling back and forth between Alexandria and Williamsburg, his mind stuck in both a logistical nightmare and an emotional daze. There was the battle with the funeral park to get his mother buried next to his father, the battle with his younger brother and sister while dividing up the contents of their parent's house, and the battle with the insurance companies on how much automobile damages he had to pay because his mother was driving with an expired license. It was enough to bring back his stomach troubles and force him back onto the Prilosec.
Dealing with his mother's death and its aftermath forced Chuck to miss about three weeks of work in February and March. Before his mother's death, Chuck had been a fixture at the defense contracting company, more often than not spending long nights at the office. He had more than enough vacation days to cover the time off, and he worked enough around his off-days to meet his deadlines. To his bosses, though, it tarnished his image as a dedicated worker. It was not until April, when he lost his job as part of the company's "necessary layoffs," that he learned the truth.
The only person more upset than Chuck about losing his job was Lily, his fiancé. They had been dating for nearly two years when he popped the question to her last December on a surprise Christmas trip to Paris. Lily had just started planning their wedding, but the loss of his job necessitated postponing the event until a later date. He promised her that he would find a new job quickly, and she said that she could wait. What she never mentioned was how long she would wait. Less than a month later, after spending a weekend in Williamsburg tying up a few loose ends in his mother's finances, he returned home to find that she had moved out of his house. Not only had she taken all of her possessions, she took quite a few of his possessions as well. A round of frantic calls to her friends and her boss at the law company where she worked as a receptionist revealed nothing about her actions or her whereabouts. He eventually filed a report with the police, but that was the last he would ever see of his fiancé.
While trying to decide if he needed to sell his house to make ends meet, a friend from the defense contracting company forwarded him the IRI courier job listing. Curious on what kind of courier job required a top secret security clearance, Chuck e-mailed his resume to the company. By the end of June, he was hired. He eventually sold his house, donated most of his remaining possessions to the Salvation Army, and move into a three bedroom condominium in Crystal City with Kathy and Michael, the other two couriers that worked for IRI. Six months later, his life would be nothing more than an endless merry-go-round of airport security gates, flight connections, and hotel rooms.
"I can't wait for this year to be over," said Chuck to Kathy as he sat down on the edge of the carousel. "I lost way too many things this year - my mother, my job, my fiancé, my house." He paused to gather his thoughts. "Maybe not quite on the same level as Job, but it was pretty awful."
"Back in 2010, I lost my husband to a landmine in Afghanistan," commented Kathy, sitting down beside him. "It devastated me; I didn't think I was ever going to recover. Luckily, I was already working at IRI as a secretary. Leanne was the one that suggested that I become a courier, and I'm thankful that she did." She smiled as she looked at Chuck. "You managed to overcome your misery, though, and got another job in a down market. That's gotta account for something."
"Well, not having any money sobers you up real quick." Chuck smiled. "I should be grateful, too. This is a damn good job."
Actually, it was a great job. The pay was incredibly high, and because he spent most of the time living off the travel per diem, almost half his pay was going straight into his savings account. Trading in the long days at the office for long days on the road had some other advantages as well. Shortly after starting the job, Chuck developed a simple workout routine, alternating between calisthenics and yoga, that he could easily perform either in his bedroom or a hotel room. He managed to lose about 12 pounds, despite living on a diet of Subway and Quiznos sandwiches. He also started reading again, having forgotten how much it helped him to relax. His iPad was filled with the latest fiction and nonfiction bestsellers.
The biggest problem was that Chuck was no Ryan Bingham, the main character from the novel Up in the Air. Ryan was happy to live his life on the road, his carry-on luggage containing all the possessions he ever needed. Chuck needed his time at home, where he could sleep in his own bed and cook meals in his own kitchen. When he started his job, he was averaging about two days at home per week. By December, though, it was down to one day a week, barely enough time to wash his clothes and catch up on his mail. He was not sure how much longer he could hold the job without going insane.
"You OK?" asked Kathy, staring at him with a concerned expression on her face.
Chuck shook off his thoughts. "Yea, I'm fine," he automatically replied, then paused for a second to realize that was a lie. "Well, not really," he amended. "I've been spending so much time in the friendly skies that I don't feel that I'm grounded anymore, pardon the pun."
"Oh yea," chuckled Kathy. "I remember that feeling."
"How did you get past it?" he asked.
"I never did," replied Kathy, a sly grin on her face. "There are still nights that I long to be in my own bed. What I ended up doing was trying to find the little things in each place that made me happy. A small rock fountain hidden away in a hotel in Kansas City. A brightly colored swing set in a small park across from my hotel in Bellevue. A wall full of children's drawings in a greasy pizza joint in Cambridge. Some little piece of hidden beauty that made me glad that I was there to find it. In time, the anticipation of searching for these little delights made me forget about my bouts of homesickness."
"Huh," Chuck thought out loud. "I'll have to give that a try next year."
"You should," she agreed, standing up and stretching her arms to the sky. "But not tonight. We are home tonight, and Michael is waiting for us so we can celebrate."
"I don't think we'll make it home before the new year arrives."
"That's not what we're celebrating. We're celebrating his Christmas wish come true."
Of the three couriers, Michael was the only one that left behind a family. His wife Julienne and eight-year-old daughter Janey live on the outskirts of Austin, Texas, where he used to work as a computer cryptanalysist for a small data security firm. Last year, the company for which he worked shut down unexpectedly, laying off all of its employees. Michael quickly got the courier job with IRI, and they decided that it was better if Julienne and Janey stayed behind in Austin until Michael could get a ...
"He got a job back in Austin?" Chuck asked Kathy.
"Someone bought out his old company and opened it back up. They called Michael back just before Christmas and offered him his old job back, with a substantial raise to boot."
"That's great!" exclaimed Chuck. "He must be thrilled."
"And that's why we're celebrating tonight. That is, if they get your luggage unloaded from the plane." Kathy turned around toward the baggage carousel. "Hey, what does it take to get some luggage around her?" she asked loudly.
As if on cue, the horn on top of the baggage carousel let out three blasts. A few seconds later, the carousel groaned loudly before clacking to life. Chuck stood up and turned around as the other passengers from the Denver flight staked out their spots around the carousel. A minute later, the first piece of checked luggage from the flight - a bright red suitcase with a rainbow band attached around it - came up the conveyor belt and dropped into the carousel.
By the time he collected his suitcase, there was less than three minutes left until the new year arrived. Chuck and Kathy decided to stay and watch the ball drop before heading home. The crowds at Times Square blew their paper horns and plastic vuvuzelas in preparation for the coming of midnight, while Ryan Seacrest regaled the television audience with his hopes and dreams of the coming year. Chuck, Kathy, and the few remaining travelers at the airport counted down the final seconds of the year together and cheered when the ball dropped and 2013 arrived.
"Happy ..." started Chuck before Kathy shut him up with a kiss. It was a friendly kiss, nothing more, but to Chuck, it was a reassuring sign that he was not alone in this world.
"May 2013 be a good year for both of us," said Kathy.
"Amen to that," replied Chuck.
A ragged cheer arose from most of the passengers as the Airbus jet landed at Ronald Reagan Washington National Airport. Chuck just shook his head and smiled. A blizzard in the Midwest had turned what was originally a three-hour flight from Denver into a ten-hour adventure, including an unexpected detour and landing in San Antonio. He was home, though, and that was all that mattered.
"Welcome to Washington, D.C.," announced the pilot over the intercom as the jet taxied down the runway towards the A terminal. "It is five minutes after 11:00 PM, and the temperature outside is a nice balmy 27 degrees Fahrenheit." The young couple sitting behind Chuck groaned loudly, which elicited a few chuckles from nearby seats. " The winds are brisk this evening, running about 15 to 20 miles per hour from the west. We thank you for flying with us today, especially your patience as we dodged the wintry weather in Chicago and St. Louis. I know you will be wanting to get home in time to see the ball drop in Times Square, but please keep your seatbelts on until we have arrived at the gate. Once again, for the entire flight crew, and Ozzy the Orca, whose picture adorns the tail and wing tips of our jet, we thank you for flying Frontier Airlines, and have a good night."
Being at the back of the aircraft, it was another twenty minutes before Chuck walked off the plane and onto the jet bridge. The side door to the bridge was open, as a baggage handler was returning a child stroller that had to be checked to a young couple travelling with their one-year-old baby. Cold wintry air filled the bridge, and Chuck could see his breath as he exhaled. The warmth returned as he stepped through the gate inside the terminal. Nine gates and departure lounges were spread around the huge circular room, with a coffee and pastry kiosk serving as the central hub. Except for his fellow passengers and a small cleaning crew, the room was empty. Chuck shivered momentarily; he much preferred when the room was filled with people than when it was empty.
Chuck could hear the echoes from his footsteps off the concrete walls as he walked down the hallway towards the ticket counters and baggage carousels. The Hudson News, Fabulously Fresh, and Jerry's Subs and Pizza shops were all closed. He could then hear his stomach rumble, having not had anything to eat since boarding the flight in Denver. All he wanted to do was to go home, take a long hot shower, and cook up a quick dinner, but there was business to take care of first. He ran a hand through his short brown hair and sighed. Business always came first.
As he arrived at the baggage carousels, Chuck spotted Kathy and Leanne. Kathy was the company's senior data courier, as well as his housemate, while Leanne was their supervisor. The two women had vastly different personalities. While serious and focused while on the job, Kathy was relaxed and playful while at home, and she always managed to have a friendly smile and a kind word for everyone she met. Leanne, however, lived and breathed for the company. As supervisor of the data couriers, she kept a close eye on Kathy's and his whereabouts while transmitting data between the company and their network of scientists and programmers across the country. Unlike Kathy, Leanne was always in work mode. Even now, when meeting him at the airport, she wore a formal two-piece business suit underneath her trench coat, while Kathy had opted for blue jeans, a white sweater, and a red ski jacket.
Unzipping his laptop bag, Chuck pulled out a blue opaque anti-static bag that contained two flash drives filled with encrypted scientific data. He did not know what was on the flash drives; as a courier, it was his responsibility not to know. His company - Innovative Research Incorporated - coordinated scientific research between the Department of Homeland Security and a number of private scientific think tanks. The project data contained on the flash drives was rated as top secret security clearance, and it could not be transmitted over either telephone lines or the Internet, which necessitated the use of couriers. Although having a top secret security clearance himself, as did all IRI couriers, Chuck could not take a peek at the data, or else he would face a number of serious consequences.
"Good evening, Leanne," said Chuck as he handed the bag to his supervisor. "Dr. Jennings wanted me to tell you that the company will be pleased with his findings."
"We better be," she replied matter-of-factly, carefully placing the bag in her briefcase. "Those findings are over a month behind schedule."
"Ah," uttered Chuck, not quite knowing how to respond. "Well," he continued, deciding to change the subject, "at least we will get to spend the first day of the new year sleeping in our own beds."
"Don't get too comfortable," warned Leanne. "We're sending you out to Boston on the morning of the second. We will deliver your itinerary to the apartment by 6:00 PM tomorrow." With briefcase securely in hand, she nodded to Kathy, then Chuck. "Good evening." She then turned around and walked out of the terminal and into the cold and windy D.C. night.
The initial feeling of frustration Check felt upon hearing her warning had, by the time Leanne exited the terminal, turned into resignation. He had just spent the last eight days crisscrossing the country, even traveling from Cleveland to Houston on Christmas day, to collect all the data he gave Leanne tonight. Having only one day at home to recover before heading back out on the road was just ridiculous. He knew there would be constant travel when he took the job. He never realized how short the turnaround time between trips would be, or its effects on his aging body.
Kathy quietly placed her right hand inside his left hand and gently squeezed it. His thoughts interrupted by her touch, Chuck squeezed her hand in response. A few seconds later, he let out a heavy sigh. "At least she could have wished us a happy new year." Kathy chuckled as they turned and joined the crowd milling around the Frontier Airlines baggage carousel.
A sea of weary faces surrounded the entire carousel, their eyes focused on the television monitors atop either side of the carousel. The monitors, which usually showed the airport news channel, had been switched to the ABC live broadcast from Times Square. According to the overly enthusiastic Jenny McCarthy, less than thirty minutes remained in the year 2012.
"And not a moment too soon," thought Chuck to himself as he watched the camera pan across the revelers gathered in Times Square. Without question, 2012 had been the worst year of his life. It started in February, when his mother died in a traffic accident. While returning home from visiting a friend, she drove through a red light and was hit on the driver's side by another car. By the time 9-1-1 was called and the paramedics arrived on the scene, she was already gone. Chuck spent the next month-and-a-half shuttling back and forth between Alexandria and Williamsburg, his mind stuck in both a logistical nightmare and an emotional daze. There was the battle with the funeral park to get his mother buried next to his father, the battle with his younger brother and sister while dividing up the contents of their parent's house, and the battle with the insurance companies on how much automobile damages he had to pay because his mother was driving with an expired license. It was enough to bring back his stomach troubles and force him back onto the Prilosec.
Dealing with his mother's death and its aftermath forced Chuck to miss about three weeks of work in February and March. Before his mother's death, Chuck had been a fixture at the defense contracting company, more often than not spending long nights at the office. He had more than enough vacation days to cover the time off, and he worked enough around his off-days to meet his deadlines. To his bosses, though, it tarnished his image as a dedicated worker. It was not until April, when he lost his job as part of the company's "necessary layoffs," that he learned the truth.
The only person more upset than Chuck about losing his job was Lily, his fiancé. They had been dating for nearly two years when he popped the question to her last December on a surprise Christmas trip to Paris. Lily had just started planning their wedding, but the loss of his job necessitated postponing the event until a later date. He promised her that he would find a new job quickly, and she said that she could wait. What she never mentioned was how long she would wait. Less than a month later, after spending a weekend in Williamsburg tying up a few loose ends in his mother's finances, he returned home to find that she had moved out of his house. Not only had she taken all of her possessions, she took quite a few of his possessions as well. A round of frantic calls to her friends and her boss at the law company where she worked as a receptionist revealed nothing about her actions or her whereabouts. He eventually filed a report with the police, but that was the last he would ever see of his fiancé.
While trying to decide if he needed to sell his house to make ends meet, a friend from the defense contracting company forwarded him the IRI courier job listing. Curious on what kind of courier job required a top secret security clearance, Chuck e-mailed his resume to the company. By the end of June, he was hired. He eventually sold his house, donated most of his remaining possessions to the Salvation Army, and move into a three bedroom condominium in Crystal City with Kathy and Michael, the other two couriers that worked for IRI. Six months later, his life would be nothing more than an endless merry-go-round of airport security gates, flight connections, and hotel rooms.
"I can't wait for this year to be over," said Chuck to Kathy as he sat down on the edge of the carousel. "I lost way too many things this year - my mother, my job, my fiancé, my house." He paused to gather his thoughts. "Maybe not quite on the same level as Job, but it was pretty awful."
"Back in 2010, I lost my husband to a landmine in Afghanistan," commented Kathy, sitting down beside him. "It devastated me; I didn't think I was ever going to recover. Luckily, I was already working at IRI as a secretary. Leanne was the one that suggested that I become a courier, and I'm thankful that she did." She smiled as she looked at Chuck. "You managed to overcome your misery, though, and got another job in a down market. That's gotta account for something."
"Well, not having any money sobers you up real quick." Chuck smiled. "I should be grateful, too. This is a damn good job."
Actually, it was a great job. The pay was incredibly high, and because he spent most of the time living off the travel per diem, almost half his pay was going straight into his savings account. Trading in the long days at the office for long days on the road had some other advantages as well. Shortly after starting the job, Chuck developed a simple workout routine, alternating between calisthenics and yoga, that he could easily perform either in his bedroom or a hotel room. He managed to lose about 12 pounds, despite living on a diet of Subway and Quiznos sandwiches. He also started reading again, having forgotten how much it helped him to relax. His iPad was filled with the latest fiction and nonfiction bestsellers.
The biggest problem was that Chuck was no Ryan Bingham, the main character from the novel Up in the Air. Ryan was happy to live his life on the road, his carry-on luggage containing all the possessions he ever needed. Chuck needed his time at home, where he could sleep in his own bed and cook meals in his own kitchen. When he started his job, he was averaging about two days at home per week. By December, though, it was down to one day a week, barely enough time to wash his clothes and catch up on his mail. He was not sure how much longer he could hold the job without going insane.
"You OK?" asked Kathy, staring at him with a concerned expression on her face.
Chuck shook off his thoughts. "Yea, I'm fine," he automatically replied, then paused for a second to realize that was a lie. "Well, not really," he amended. "I've been spending so much time in the friendly skies that I don't feel that I'm grounded anymore, pardon the pun."
"Oh yea," chuckled Kathy. "I remember that feeling."
"How did you get past it?" he asked.
"I never did," replied Kathy, a sly grin on her face. "There are still nights that I long to be in my own bed. What I ended up doing was trying to find the little things in each place that made me happy. A small rock fountain hidden away in a hotel in Kansas City. A brightly colored swing set in a small park across from my hotel in Bellevue. A wall full of children's drawings in a greasy pizza joint in Cambridge. Some little piece of hidden beauty that made me glad that I was there to find it. In time, the anticipation of searching for these little delights made me forget about my bouts of homesickness."
"Huh," Chuck thought out loud. "I'll have to give that a try next year."
"You should," she agreed, standing up and stretching her arms to the sky. "But not tonight. We are home tonight, and Michael is waiting for us so we can celebrate."
"I don't think we'll make it home before the new year arrives."
"That's not what we're celebrating. We're celebrating his Christmas wish come true."
Of the three couriers, Michael was the only one that left behind a family. His wife Julienne and eight-year-old daughter Janey live on the outskirts of Austin, Texas, where he used to work as a computer cryptanalysist for a small data security firm. Last year, the company for which he worked shut down unexpectedly, laying off all of its employees. Michael quickly got the courier job with IRI, and they decided that it was better if Julienne and Janey stayed behind in Austin until Michael could get a ...
"He got a job back in Austin?" Chuck asked Kathy.
"Someone bought out his old company and opened it back up. They called Michael back just before Christmas and offered him his old job back, with a substantial raise to boot."
"That's great!" exclaimed Chuck. "He must be thrilled."
"And that's why we're celebrating tonight. That is, if they get your luggage unloaded from the plane." Kathy turned around toward the baggage carousel. "Hey, what does it take to get some luggage around her?" she asked loudly.
As if on cue, the horn on top of the baggage carousel let out three blasts. A few seconds later, the carousel groaned loudly before clacking to life. Chuck stood up and turned around as the other passengers from the Denver flight staked out their spots around the carousel. A minute later, the first piece of checked luggage from the flight - a bright red suitcase with a rainbow band attached around it - came up the conveyor belt and dropped into the carousel.
By the time he collected his suitcase, there was less than three minutes left until the new year arrived. Chuck and Kathy decided to stay and watch the ball drop before heading home. The crowds at Times Square blew their paper horns and plastic vuvuzelas in preparation for the coming of midnight, while Ryan Seacrest regaled the television audience with his hopes and dreams of the coming year. Chuck, Kathy, and the few remaining travelers at the airport counted down the final seconds of the year together and cheered when the ball dropped and 2013 arrived.
"Happy ..." started Chuck before Kathy shut him up with a kiss. It was a friendly kiss, nothing more, but to Chuck, it was a reassuring sign that he was not alone in this world.
"May 2013 be a good year for both of us," said Kathy.
"Amen to that," replied Chuck.