Her flight was in the morning. He was nervous but excited at the prospect of seeing her after all of the time they had spent talking. The pictures and words being only a glimpse of the person he had been talking to. He waited anxiously, looking up at the screens to watch the status of her flight. When he saw the screen change to landed, he headed to the small airport coffee shop outside of the security area that they had agreed to meet.
The pictures did not do her justice. As he sat at the quiet table for two in the back of the shop away from the bustle of the airport, he saw her moving through the crowd. It was as if a light was following her along the way. He smiled and caught her eyes. She smiled back, and looked down sheepishly. She looked back up as she approached and noticed he was still staring at her. She smiled again, more confidently this time.
He stood up. She walked to him. He reached out his arms and she stepped into them. Without a word, he kissed her passionately. When he pulled away they both let out a sigh, and stood in momentary silence, looking into each other’s eyes. He pulled out her chair and asked about her flight.
She told him of the person in the security line when she was boarding for her first flight that refused to take off his shoes and caused a scene. She talked about how the baby that was on the second flight would not stop crying and it wasn’t that sweet, new baby cry either. She talked about the turbulence and the packed cabin. And as she talked of this awful night of travel, she noticed he was smiling the whole time.
“I’m glad you find this so amusing,” she stopped and told him.
“Not amusing, entrancing. I could listen to you talk about the toe-fungus on a dead possum and still be smiling hearing your voice.”
She reached across the table for his hand and he gave it to her. She smiled and said, “I can’t believe I’m finally here.”
He smiled back. “I can. Because in my imagination, I could not touch your hand, or your lips. I could imagine doing so, but now I can feel it.”
He looked up at the counter. “I’m getting a coffee. Would you like anything?”
“I can get it,” she responded.
“You are my guest here. Please, allow me,” he requested.
“Okay, a vanilla chai latte and a muffin.”
“Looks like they have blueberry, will that do?” he asked.
He stood at the counter and placed his order. He looked back at her and smiled a few times as he waited for his coffee, her tea, his bagel, and her muffin. She smiled back and he felt his heart want to jump out of his chest.
When their drinks and food was ready, he carried it back to the table. He set his items down, but walked around behind her and reached over her shoulder to place her items in front of her. He set down her chai, and when he took his arm back to reach for the muffin, he gently brushed her cheek with his hand. When he reached to put down the muffin, he leaned in and whispered how much he wanted her in her ear, then gave her a light kiss on the neck and walked back around the table to sit and enjoy their drinks.
She shivered as he sat down. They talked about all of the things he had planned for the time she was going to be there this trip. They sipped their drinks and laughed and talked about anything and everything. The rest of the world began to slip into the background as their connection grew even deeper.
And then he saw it.
“What are you doing?” he asked her disgusted.
“What?” she asked in reply.
“Are you about to eat your muffin with a fork?!?! What the hell is wrong with you?” he shouted. “That shit is a deal-breaker. I’m out. Might want to move that flight!” he yelled as he got up from the table and stormed off.
Because seriously, eating a muffin with a fork? Who does that? Anti-cream cheese fascists, that’s who. Tea people! 😉