It was still hard for Steve to believe he was even here. On Monday, it had been nothing more than a joke. On Tuesday, it was the germ of an idea. On Wednesday, it was happening. Now, on Friday, Steve sat in the seat of a 737, winging his way southeast, toward the girl of his dreams.
As Steve half-dozed, listening to the drone of the jet engines, he thought about the wonderful week he had spent with Maia the previous summer. It had been the most incredible week of his life. Maia had validated so many things for Steve that week. She had shown him that there was nothing wrong with him. She had shown him that it was possible for both members of a couple to enjoy the sexual experience completely, and it didn't have to just be hard work and frustration. Steve never understood why it had never worked with Michelle. They had been married for ten years, and had known each other for years before that. Intimacy was just something they had never gotten right somehow. Steve just could not keep arousal up for any length of time, and it seemed like Michelle failed at arousing him no matter what she tried. There was just so much mutual frustration. Steve had tried medications, and was going through continuous counseling, but nothing seemed to work. It had not been a struggle with Maia. In fact, it had been totally natural. She said he had done everything right for her without her even having to tell him what right was. And he could say the same thing for her. In the back of their minds, they knew what they were doing was wrong. Steve had a wife 2,000 miles away. But it was oh so easy to dismiss that. After all, she'd never know, and Steve just needed this so much. Maybe it was that Maia, like Steve, was blind, and could understand the daily struggles and indignities Steve had to suffer so much better than Michelle could. Certainly that was part of it. Certainly this was no fling in the sack. Steve had never been that kind of person. He couldn't be. But he couldn't help how he felt about Maia. She had been so good to him, had taught him so much about himself.
Steve felt some pangs of guilt that Michelle didn't know Maia was going to be here. If she had known, she would have tried to stop him from going. All she knew was that he was going to spend the weekend with his friend Skip. Deception was necessary, he told himself. He needed this. Michelle knew at least a little bit of his intimate relationship with Maia; she had seen something on his computer screen that she should have never seen. But Steve needed this. He needed to find out some things for himself. This was not a classic midlife crisis. Or was it?
Steve felt pressure in his ears, the telltale sign that the plane was descending. He looked at his watch. They should be on the ground in St. Petersburg in a half hour, maybe less. Man, it had been a long day. The four-hour layover in Chicago had been excruciating. Flying was just becoming to be more and more of an ordeal, Steve thought grimly. In this case, though, the payoff would be wonderful, Steve could feel it.
Boom! They were on the ground! Steve heard the rush of air and felt the lurch as the brakes took hold and the plane slowed. He was here. He had done it. They had pulled it off. Soon, very soon, he would be with Maia. He felt the tingle of anticipation through his whole body. This was going to be such a special weekend.
The plane had come to a complete stop. Steve heard the unbuckling of seat belts all around him. He unbuckled his, too, but he knew he wasn't going anywhere right away. The aisle filled up with people, some bumping their bags against the seats. Steve hoped somebody would come get him soon. He thought about trying to just get in the stream of people and follow them to the front of the plane and the door, he had done it before, but he decided against it. He retrieved his cane from the seat pocket in front of him and extended it, which he hoped would be a signal to anyone paying attention that he was ready to roll.
A flight attendant finally did come, and Steve grabbed his bag from the overhead storage bin and followed her toward the door. When they stepped out, Steve noticed that they actually went outside. He hadn't been at an airport without a jetway in years. The Florida heat and humidity hit his senses immediately. Even at night, even in early October, it was still a shock, especially after the gloomy, rainy cool weather he had left in Seattle twelve hours before.
As they walked through the door into the terminal, Steve hoped the person picking him up would be able to spot him easily when they got to baggage claim. He knew Maia would have given him a good description, or at least as good of a one as she could. He couldn't help but muse on the fact that this was sometimes the most stressful part of the trip. The very end.
