The flight was cancelled? Had I heard the announcement correctly? I looked around at the other waiting passengers. Their faces told the story.
Oh my god I thought. I turned to the person next to me. "What now, I wonder?" I said.
"I am pretty sure they will put us up somewhere and fly us out tomorrow," the other passenger answered.
I didn't know whether to cuss or cry.
Another announcement; distracted, I missed part of it; something about a bus...
Others were moving. "Are they taking us somewhere," I asked the other person?
"Yes," he said, "come on."
I grabbed my carry on and followed.
He found a seat and said, "Sit here, ok?" I sat, put my head back and closed my eyes. "You know what," I said.
"What's that?"
"This really sucks," I said.
He laughed quietly. I looked at him and he was smiling.
"Tom Millings," he said. "You're right, this does suck."
I liked his smile and noted his gray hair, thinning a bit, maybe late fifties I thought; early sixties; laugh lines at the corners of his hazel and intelligent eyes.
"Tom Millings," I said. "Sophia Crockett."
I shook his hand and liked the warmth, the firmness of his grip.
The bus pulled into a motel parking lot and a dozen passengers debarked. The agent re-boarded and announced, "No more rooms available here, we're going to another place."
"I hope this doesn't mean we aren't going to find anything this time of night," I said.
"Let's hope we have some luck," Tom said. He smiled again and I was glad for the bit of reassurance that it gave me.
We rode in silence for a bit and the bus pulled into a rather plush looking Hilton.
Inside we stood on line while others checked in one by one.
Tom was just ahead of me and the clerk announced, "This is our last room, sir."
My heart sank. Tom turned to me. "Sophia you take the room. It won't be the first time I've slept in a lobby."
"We can put a cot up in the room if you'd care to do that," the clerk volunteered.
I quickly made up my mind. Before Tom could demur I said, "Okay that will be fine."
Tom protested but I insisted, after all he would have to use his voucher even if he slept in the lobby.
So we took our bags up to the room and I said, "Tom, I don't know anything about you but something tells me I can trust you. But right now I don't much care. I saw they have a bar and I could sure use a drink."
Tom chuckled, "Sophia, I can't think of anything better than an attitude adjustment after this debacle."
We went down to the bar and ordered; a gin and tonic for me and Tom, a Patron gimlet.
When the drinks came Tom offered a toast to new friends.
"Do you want something to eat," he asked. "I'm hungry and am thinking of a club sandwich," he said.
I ordered a chicken salad and Tom ordered a bottle of California Pinot Grigio, very tasty and crisp. We chatted and relaxed. I felt the tension flowing out of me and I was privately grateful that if I had to deal with this situation it was with Tom and not some creep.
Tom turned out to be a retired Coast Guard officer. In turn I said my late husband had coincidentally been in the Coast Guard as well, for a hitch long ago, when we first dated and then married. With that common thread we talked about ourselves. Tom had begun his Coast Guard career as an enlisted man and retired after more than three decades as a commander. After raising two sons together he and his wife had drifted apart and two years earlier he told me, they divorced.
"She lost interest," he said, "in part of our marriage that remained very important to me."
I might have let the remark pass alluding, as it did to intimacy and predictable revelation of just in what part of Tom's marriage his ex-wife had lost interest. But the gin and tonic and, was it two glasses of wine (I wasn't sure), had lessened my inhibitions. Besides, I felt comfortable and secure with Tom even though we had been thrown together and hardly knew one another.
"It is usually sex or money isn't it Tom?" I added, "And, I don't think it was money in your case." His face flushed a bit and I smiled to myself.
"Touche', Sophia," he said. "Too much information, I suppose."
I drank more wine. Warmth, not altogether from the wine, spread nicely in my groin. I am, I thought to myself, feeling the gin and the wine. I also am attracted to this guy. And, I let the thought surface, feeling just a teeeensy, weeeensy bit horny. Well, maybe a little more than that.
"Oh, that's Okay Tom," I smiled at him. "I'll let you know if you've overstepped. Happens in a lot of marriages; one partner or the other loses interest."
Then I added, "Almost until the end my Bill and I always enjoyed each other a lot in the bedroom." Geez, I thought to myself, talk about too much information!
He took me aback then, but his next remark also titillated me, "So, do you miss that part of your life with him?"
I intended to pass off my reply lightly, but found myself looking him squarely in the eye when I said, "Very much, Tom; very much. I haven't been with anyone since my husband, died."
He flushed a bit, making me smile to myself and answered with a non-sequitur, "I think we're being asked to leave; the bar is closing up." I looked around. The bartender's activity made it clear he was ready to close. Tom signed the tab and we left.
When the elevator doors closed Tom said, "Sophia, you are a lovely and desirable woman. I'm sorry your... our travel plans were messed up. I may end up in the lobby for saying this, but I am glad we are spending the night together."
I didn't care if it was the booze and the wine talking, I put my hand on his cheek and said, "I'm glad too, Tom." Then I kissed him softly on the lips. I liked it and I was eager for more.
Our room door clicked shut and we kissed again; not softly now but excited and urgent, mouths open, tongues dancing. We both breathed heavily when the kiss ended. God I loved the feel of his body against mine; of being in his arms.
