This very short story I’m happy to offer for free, posted in its entirety. It’s from my forthcoming collection: “SSOL: Short Stories of Love”. I’ll go into the origins of the collection once it’s ready for publication. What I will say is that I wrote it during a period when I was trying to conform to the commercial, sappy kind of romance writing that isn’t me, however I actually ended up liking it (for some reason) Lol. I hope you like it too.
Goodbyes at airports were always tearful for us, ending our annual visits, for me and my best friend from college, Jessica Wilkes. We took turns vacationing in each other’s city once a year. This time it was my turn to visit Jessica in Baltimore. I had cried already; however Jessica was a little more dramatic. She was crying like we’d never see each other again, hugging me tightly with tears running down her eyes in streams, curbside as I was about to get my bag and go through the double glass doors and enter the terminal at BWI.
“Mari take care of yourself,” Jessica said in her crying voice. “Please call me the second you get home.”
“Jess come on,” I said. “Stop or I’ll start crying again. Did you forget I’ll be back in three months for the wedding?”
She laughed, wiping her eyes with overused tissue I had given her before we got out of the car. She practically started crying before we left the house.
“Oh that’s right,” she said. “Are you sure you don’t mind coming back so soon?”
“Of course not,” I said. “You’re getting married.”
She smiled at me with glassy eyes. Her fiancé Jarrod had gotten my luggage from the trunk of the SUV. He wheeled it over and stood next to Jessica. Polite as ever he smiled at me, but had a slight look of urgency in his eyes which told me he had been parked curbside for a little too long. Before I could say another word Jessica hugged me again, mumbling something over my shoulder.
“Jess I better go. My flight boards soon.”
“Oh, right,” she said and let go of me. I gave her more tissue, walked over to Jarrod and hugged him too.
“It was good seeing you Mari,” he said.
I could see the genuine fondness in his eyes for me. I really came to like Jarrod too. He’s such a nice man. I met him last year when Jessica brought him to Chicago.
“Thanks for everything Jarrod,” I said and grabbed my bag, wheeling it toward the terminal. I looked back at them one last time, waved and then walked through the double doors.
***
I was surprised at how many people were at the airport on a Wednesday evening. At the last minute I decided to stop at the ticket counter and check my bag. A nice ticket agent named Steven took my bag, gave me a boarding pass and advised me that my flight was slightly delayed due to a mechanical problem.
“It’s not serious,” Steven reassured me. “It probably won’t be more than a twenty, thirty minute delay.”
“Thank you Steven,” I said, and then headed toward the gate.
Gate 17 was busy. I didn’t realize how full my flight was. I sat down and felt relieved to be going home. I had a great time and was truly happy for Jessica and Jarrod, but maybe a little envious. She reminded me several times that I was single, terminally single in my mind, and I sort of felt like a third wheel tagging along with them all over Baltimore.
I heard the gate agent over the PA announcing that we had switched aircrafts and would begin boarding soon. Just then a man entered the gate and sat down in the seat directly across from me. I did take extra notice. He had dark hair, dreamy eyes and was very well dressed in a navy blue suit and shiny black shoes. He caught my gaze and smiled at me. I was embarrassed but smiled back, awkwardly.
“Thought I missed it,” he said.
I found myself staring at him and had to snap out of it. “Oh, yes,” I said.
“I ran through the terminal like a maniac,” he said.
I kept smiling and noticed he seemed a little out of breath. He loosened his tie.
“Vacationing?” he asked, with his eyes scanning over my touristy Baltimore t-shirt with the big red crab on the front of it. I had on my old faded jeans, feeling like I looked awful, but his eyes said the contrary.
“Yes,” I said.
“Business for me,” he said. “But I love Baltimore, spent time here as a kid in Glen Burnie, but didn’t appreciate it then. It’s a great town.”
“It really is,” I said.
We continued to talk and quickly I found him to be an engaging man. Our conversation about things flowed on its own like we had known each other for years. He told be about his own business as a consultant and how he travels around the country and I told him about Jessica, Jarrod and our annual visits. Later he slipped in that he wasn’t married, but I had already checked his attractive hands for a ring. He also told me that he wasn’t seeing anybody and was discouraged with the dating scene. I had to concur and we both laughed.
The gate agent announced our flight and we both stood up. The kind gentleman moved closer to me respectfully with his hand extended. “Forgive me,” he said. “I’m Nigel Crawford.”
“Oh forgive me too,” I said. “Mari Haynes.”
“You don’t look like a Mary,” he said.
“It’s actually Maribel,” I said with a laugh.
“Now that makes sense,” he said.
Nigel and I moved toward the jet bridge as the gate agent began calling out rows to board the aircraft. A flood of impatient people bombarded the line. It was so many people that Nigel and I got separated and lost each other. I was so irritated. On the plane I looked around for him, but was trying not to appear so obvious. I didn’t see him. I sat down and fastened my seatbelt thinking it was just as well, the way my social life had been going lately.
***
Standing at the carousel at O’Hare I found myself still looking for Nigel, but it was to no avail. It was like he completely disappeared. I picked up my bag and turned to walk away. Not paying attention and feeling a little sad I collided with someone. When I looked up it was Nigel. I was stunned.
“Maribel!” he said smiling. “I thought I lost you forever.”
“Me too,” I said.
“I wanted to sit with you and continue our conversation, but that crowd….,”
“I know,” I said. “I wanted to sit with you too.”
He smiled bashfully. “Where do you live?”
“In Wicker Park.”
“No way!” he said. “I live in Bucktown…would you like to share a cab?”
“Yes,” I said.
We left the terminal together and though my feet were planted firmly on the ground, my heart was still somewhere in flight.
The End