A large, black GMC crew-cab pickup approached just as Angie made it out to the arrivals area. The vehicle appeared new and was fitted out with an extended bed, bedliner and rack for carrying construction materials. The vehicle was unmistakably Kyle’s since it had the white snowflake logo and company name ‘Winter Preservations’ emblazoned on each side. The rear right side window was partly rolled down and the face of a German Shepard was poking out, looking at all of the people in the sidewalk closely as the truck rolled to a stop. Once in park, the driver door opened and out came Kyle – all smiles – as he stepped around to see his old friend.<br/><br/>His arms opened for a hug as he stepped up to her. If she let him he gave her a quick, friendly squeeze around the shoulders before letting go and taking hold of her bags. In the old days he used to give her something more like a bear hug and lift her off the ground before letting her down with a kiss, but those days were behind them. Gone, but for Kyle not forgotten. The hug highlighted his beard, which was a new addition since she last saw him. Medium-cropped and cleaned up around the edges, he looked like a different person from the college kid she once knew. Physically he was in better shape, too; leaner and more muscular. While Kyle had studied construction management in school, it looked like he spent a fair amount of time swinging hammers himself.<br/><br/>“God it’s good to see you. You look fantastic,” he added without hesitation or exaggeration. “Was your flight OK? Let me grab these.” As they spoke he unlocked and lifted the bed cover and slid her luggage in the back of the truck, securing it with a rope harness so the items wouldn’t roll around. As he worked the dog looked inquisitively at Angie from inside the truck the whole time, searching one of her eyes and then the other without barking.<br/><br/>“This is Alexandra, or Alex,” Kyle introduced, petting the dog’s head through the open window. “Any friend of mine is a friend of hers. She will love you forever now that she knows we’re friends. She is great company, especially at night out in the boonies.” He stepped back to let Angie pet the dog if she was so inclined.<br/><br/>“Let’s talk more in the truck,” he added, looking around at the police who were hurrying people along. “They don’t want us to linger here.”<br/><br/>A few minutes later they were speeding away from the city on Route 90 West out into bayou country. The winter’s day was comfortably warm for the two northerners and the dog, who panted under her fur coat. The truck was clean and smelled new, with every feature one could ask for.<br/><br/>“So I saw you’re a professional writer. That’s fantastic,” Kyle said, making conversation. “So tell me, what do you write for work, and what do you write for fun?”<br/><br/>Kyle was never much of a writer, himself, but he always had a book or two he read through at night. They gave him a mental break from the headaches of contracting that otherwise consumed his waking hours.