He settled in his chair near the departure gate of his flight, taking in a deep breath in annoyance that he would have to wait another two hours before his plane would leave. Sitting for a time didn't bother him as much as sitting in the uncomfortable contour of the airport chair. He wished he had renewed the airline lounge privileges, but he and his company had decided a short time ago that he and his staff needed to belt-tighten for the good of all. He knew it was a frivolous expense, and he hadn't arrived at the point in his life where the entitlement of experience or age granted him the pleasures of privilege. The Charlotte Airport wasn't too bad, though. The panoply of life around him offered an interesting blend of culture, homogeneous in that it was decidedly Southern. He had to abandon his laptop for a while since he let the battery run down, and he was situated nowhere near an outlet to recharge. He contented himself with people-watching, something his busy life hadn't allowed for some time. On this account he was out of practice.
The most interesting people were those rushing onto and out of the gate doors of their flights. They either had a look of urgency or relief, depending on whether they were getting on or off the plane. His eye caught sight of a woman dressed somewhat casually in a black pants and a smart black and white long-sleeved blouse. His mind went through the quick process of sizing her up, that she was his age or probably a few years younger, that she was traveling alone, that she was probably traveling for pleasure since she only carried a small bag. As she moved closer to him, he took account of her face and shoulder-length sandy blonde hair. Her complexion was light, though not pale, but healthy. Her eyes were round, as though she always wore a look of surprise and delight. It wasn't until she was a few feet away, just as she was about to pass him, that the synapses in his brain triggered a hit in the bank of his memory. She had a look of familiarity, of someone he had seen before, though he wasn't sure of the context.
His eyes followed her as she walked past, hoping that his mind could process the memory of her look before she disappeared. His thoughts went into overdrive -- someone on TV, a sales vendor, one of his wife's friends, one of his children's teachers? None of these possibilities registered, and as he reprocessed the familiarity game, he became a little discouraged that his mental capacity failed him, that his archives didn't reach as deep as he thought. Just about the time her image began to blend in with the masses, she stopped and turned toward one of the yogurt/frozen custard mini-shops along the concourse. His eyes stayed on her as she purchased a cup of what looked to be ice cream, but he couldn't tell from the distance. And, to his delight, instead of walking on she sat at a nearby table and positioned herself in such a way that he held a clear view of her face.
He gave his mind a rest, choosing to relish the pleasantness of her appearance. It was then that it clicked. Further back, from his past came the recollection that up to this point teased him. It had just taken the messenger a while to get there.
It was a Saturday night in December nearly twenty years before. He was in his second year of grad school and had just finished finals the day before. He wasn't really sure of all the circumstances which brought them together, other than they shared mutual friends -- friends of friends as it were.
One friend in particular he knew as his best friend's girlfriend. She was also the close friend of a first year freshman. Either by default or by design, the girls developed a deep friendship. Given that both girls were in the same sorority, the close association between the two was likely by design, but organically blossomed as time went on.
He had known the girlfriend to be somewhat standoffish at first. But what he mistook for snobbery was a veiled disguise for shyness. After nearly a year of hobnobbing with his buddy, girlfriend in tow, he soon established a repartee with her that was both genuine and amiable. He grew comfortable enough that their encounters no longer required the intermediary of his good friend.
When his buddy finished his studies at the university, his own relationship with the girlfriend took on a new dynamic. Rather than depend on the connection of his friend, he and his friend's girlfriend naturally bridged a separate connection of ease and mutual comfort. Not only that, both developed a rapport somewhat out of necessity -- he for the circle of friends he had established around her already, and she for the fidelity of trust that had taken nearly a year to cultivate. Before long they met for an occasional dinner, a spot on campus between classes to chat, or on special occasions a movie outing.
It was movie date of sorts, of which was originally supposed to be the two of them, that she decided at the last moment to bring her freshman friend along. The stress of finals had been lifted and the university, no longer teeming with the wonderful chaos of its twenty thousand students, settled into a quiet town of buildings and monuments. All three had stayed behind a few extra days after the last final, waiting as did all those whose hometowns were a long distance away. The university and the small city it occupied was theirs, at least for the night.
They shared little conversation before and after the movie, but of the three he felt very much at ease with the impromptu gathering. The movie itself served as something of a passive activity, a nondescript comedy which elicited a few laughs but allowed them share end even waste a little time. To him the mood was serendipitously apropos, much like the relaxed elation a runner feels at the end of a long race.
By the time the movie ended the quiet celebration appeared to have run its course. So, it was tacitly understood that he would take both girls back to their dorm from where he had earlier picked them up. It was then that his friend made the recommendation he drop her off first at their dorm, then take her freshman friend to her dorm as it was on the way to his house.
"I don't want her walking back from my dorm this late. You don't mind, do you?" she asked him.
"Of course not," he responded.
Reaching his friend's dorm entrance, he wished her a good Christmas when she stepped out of the car. He didn't mind that she didn't get sentimental. They would be back together in two week's time anyway.
"Had fun, tonight," she offered.
"Me too," he responded sincerely.
Left alone with her freshman friend, he drove off on the short ride to the next dorm. Though the moment was filled with small talk, it occurred to him that it was the first time they had ever been alone. The awkwardness that normally fills the air in these kinds of situations never materialized. In fact, he felt even more at ease. She wasn't shy, but neither was she assertive. On the few occasions he had spent with her, he found her pleasant. She exuded a quiet confidence, and he was drawn to the felicity of her company. She was also pleasant looking, somewhat pretty though not striking. Up to now he hadn't bothered to take a full inventory of her features until she asked a surprising question when he pulled the car into the parking lot.
"Would you like to come in?"
"Sure," he answered almost without thinking, as if no other response was even possible.
"Is it okay to go up?" he asked.
