Elizabeth looked out the window at the clouds passing below, trying very hard not to plant her elbow into the folds of flesh overflowing from the seat beside her. Her mind flitted back and forth passing through the previous ten months. Ten months of chaos in her personal life, professional life and family. Ten months of challenges, growth and strides being made toward a future for her and her children, a future that she has longed for since her teen years. Ten months of typing, talking and knowing this man, this man that she was to meet today.
Robert had arrived at the airport early. He had waited for this day for many months and wanted to make sure everything was just right. He had a single rose to present to Elizabeth, had gotten his hair cut the day before and the car was washed and vacuumed thoroughly. He watched the monitor closely for any change in status. Flight 628 from New York was still on time. He checked his watch. The plane should be circling now.
Elizabeth looked down at the airport and wondered where he was, what he was doing. She tried to visualize him waiting patiently for her at the end of the baggage conveyor. She worried that she wouldn't recognize him from his photos. She was especially anxious that he might find her real life appearance a disappointment after seeing her photos, even though she had intentionally sent him "everyday" pictures as well as "glamour" shots. Elizabeth placed her hand on her abdomen as if to settle the butterflies that threatened to escape. "God, I hope I haven't made a mistake! " she thought to herself. In all of her 40 years, she wasn't sure if she had ever felt so anxious.
As the passengers disembarked, some seemed in a hurry, others continued reading as they waited to proceed in the dirge like pace of the people in the aisle. Several men with only briefcases and cell phones moved to the side of crowd and began dialing as soon as they entered the terminal, giving Elizabeth an idea. Elizabeth followed the passengers past the food court and ducked into a bathroom. She combed her hair, smoothed her skirt and applied fresh lipstick. She tried to smile at herself, but it seemed more of a grimace as she forced her lips upturned. She dialed her cell phone.
Robert anxiously watched the passengers collecting baggage. Nowhere did he see anyone matching her description. He had helped her chose an outfit as she had modeled her choices via the web cam. He looked again for the floral skirt and black sweater she had promised to wear. He checked his watch. The cell phone interrupted his thoughts.
"Hello," he said carefully into the receiver.
"Robert! Are you sure we should be doing this?" Elizabeth blurted.
Robert chuckled. "Well, love. You have two choices. You can come, collect your baggage and use your return ticket. Or, you can come, collect your baggage and go to dinner with me."
He paused briefly uncertain if he should play his trump card, " In any event, you are going to have to say "hello" to me, dear. I have your baggage. "
She imagined the amusement on his face and the twinkle in his eyes. His voice soothed her, as it had done so many times in recent months. His ability to take control of any situation brought her a sense of peace, it always had.
Trying to sound put off, she said, "Well, as usual, you have thought of everything!" Then, Elizabeth giggled and said, "I will be right there, dear."
Elizabeth grabbed her carry on, flicked a loose tendril of hair from her forehead and continued to the baggage check area. She stopped just short of the boundary through which no one may pass unless they are traveling. She saw him waiting for her. Their eyes met. He smiled at her, his face, worn by age and experience immediately lit up. He ran his fingers through his silver hair and waved his hands over her luggage in invitation. His eyes absorbing the sight of this confident, sassy, woman, dressed casually, yet well. Her skirt flowed from her fleshy hips and waist, flattering her curves and shapely legs. The black sweater emphasized her abundant breasts. Her short, bobbed haircut emphasized a pretty face and full rouged lips.
Elizabeth smirked, put her hand on her hip and touched her chin as if thinking. Then she pivoted on one heel as if to return to the gate. She could hear his laughter over the din of airport commotion. She turned and strode toward him, any feigned elegance lost in her desire to be near him.
She stood before him, smiled haughtily and said, "Going my way, Mister?"
Again, his laughter filled her heart. Robert leaned forward, laid a hand on her arm and kissed her cheek.
"A rose for the lady," his eyes twinkled as he bowed, presenting her with a single yellow rose. "Now, which way might you be going, Ma'am?"
"Perhaps you could tell me where I could find a decent meal and a place to rest my weary head," she cocked her head to one side.
"Certainly, I would be happy to oblige, ma'am." Robert reached for her luggage. Elizabeth stopped him with her hand on his arm and whispered in his ear, "Don't friends usually hug at the airport, Robert?"
She drew back, waiting breathlessly. He stood before her tall, his eyes softening, his smile losing the smirk of silliness, "Yes, of course," he replied in a husky voice.
Slowly, he raised his hand, touching her cheek. His touch was delicate, as if he were afraid she would shatter before his eyes. His hand slid to her shoulder, she reached out for him, tentatively. Of all the fantasies, of all the longings denied in their past, touching one another had been the one act they could not replicate on the phone or in writing. She slid into his arms, finally releasing her breath as his arms encapsulated her. She now knew, this was right. Coming here was the right thing to do, being with him felt so right. She felt ten months of wonder fading away while standing in the busy airport, holding Robert. Elizabeth sighed and relaxed, allowing her head to rest on his shoulder.
"Oh, Liz, " Robert moaned into her chestnut tresses. He pulled her closer, both not wanting their first touch to end, oblivious to the hub bub around them.
A woman with her phone attached to her ear nearly collided with the pair, interrupting their embrace,
Elizabeth drew back slowly, her hands remaining on his waist, her face flushed with embarrassment. "We should go?" she asked, her eyes finding his. Their gaze locked for a moment. He smiled and nodded his head. "This way, dear."
Robert carried her suitcase in one hand and with a hand to her arm, led her through the terminal. While waiting for the elevator to the parking garage, Robert's hand slipped into hers. She glanced at him, smiling.
Once in the car, a 2002 Dodge Intrigue, she settled back into the plush leather seats and closed her eyes. She was travel weary and tired of crowds. The ride to the restaurant was quiet, yet a comfortable, shared silence. Elizabeth and Robert were both thinking only of the happiness they felt at finally being able to be together.
Over dinner, they talked quietly about the day's events, their families and friends as old friends do. Each time that they touched it became easier, it seemed more natural. Timidity was being replaced by comfort and pleasure. He touched the back of her neck as he held her chair for her in the restaurant. His hand placed at the small of her back led her to the exit. They held hands in the parking lot. Once at the car, he opened the door. She turned, looked at him and smiled. Her hair shone in the moonlight, her eyes glistening in the light of a nearby lamppost.
Once again, his hand reached for her face. He cupped her cheek in his hand. She closed her eyes and caressed his palm as her head moved back and forth. She turned her mouth toward his palm and planted the most timid and tender of kisses. Robert savored the moment, enjoying the raw sensuality of the moment.
Without hesitation, he drew her into his arms. His looked down at her, her eyes not meeting his. Sensing her embarrassment, he raised a hand to her chin, urging her to look at him. He locked her gaze with his, he said in a voice that she knew so well, "It is okay. You're with me, now."
Elizabeth blinked slowly, overcome by emotion; she felt a tear slip down her cheek. He leaned forward and kissed her cheek where the dampness sparkled in the moonlight. His lips lightly touched the corner of her mouth, and then he pulled back. Instinctively, she moved her face toward his. Robert's lips met hers, softly, slowly as if massaging hers in deliberate, tender kisses. He felt her body tremble within his arms. With a final kiss, buried his face in her hair and held her more tightly. "Are you chilled, love?"
She wasn't chilled. She wasn't frightened. She wasn't sure why she trembled, but felt that his closeness and intimacy of the moment had something to do with it.
He gently seated her in the car. Once he was in the driver's seat, he started to ask her something and then stopped. The silence was pregnant with his unasked question. Then, Robert said to her, in a voice less confident than she was accustomed to, "Liz? Remember when we made the hotel reservations? "
She knew what he was trying to say. They had reserved a room at a hotel near his home. The agreement had been that she could stay at the hotel alone, if she wished, with him at the hotel or she could chose to stay at his bungalow.
"What do you want, Robert? Do you want to call it a night?" She tried to sound casual in her query, but failed miserably when her voice shook and faded off at the end of the question.
Robert looked at her, the corner of his mouth raised in a smirk as he said, "T'is for the lady to decide the destination, ma'am."
Elizabeth giggled with nervousness and relief. She knew he was telling her he wanted to be with her. She also knew that it was entirely her choice. They had often relied on humor to get beyond those uncomfortably close moments. Both had been hurt and their confidence in relationships had faded. With one another, they hoped to rebuild some of what was lost.
Elizabeth flung her head back, waved her hand in front of her, as though shooing him along, and said in an upper crest English accent, "Home, James!"
The ride to his home took a few short minutes. He lived in a well cared for bungalow near the outskirts of town. The yard had been recently mowed and the house painted sometime in the recent past. He parked the car in the driveway and reached for her hand. Raising it to his lips, he kissed the palm of her hand, tenderly.
"Here we are, " he muttered. She caressed his cheek with her thumb.
