The sights and sounds of the San Francisco Airport engulfed her senses, as people of all colors, cultures and styles surrounded her, bumping and shoving as they rushed to board or greet flights. The loudspeaker announcements statically assaulted her ears, almost drowning out the sound of her boots echoing as she hurried through the terminal. With shaking hands, she adjusted her purse, and realized that her knees felt weak. Her brain commanded she take a deep breath, just as she realized she’d been holding it. So long a wait for this day, so excited and sleepless had been her nights. How many times had she changed her clothes this morning? Then suddenly, there it was, Gate B-11, right in front of her. Breathe, girl breathe.

Three months before, as Lacey sat in front of her laptop, sitting cross-legged on an old, blue lounge chair, she had waited for him, remembering the past year and a half. While the candle she had placed on the little table beside her, flickered in the soft twilight of the room, she remembered how long the moon, alone, had heard their conversations, as the nights blended one into another, and how the sun always greeted them at different times. Over the distance of 3,000 miles, they had shared their thoughts month after month. Their fingers touching through tiny keys, over invisible airways, emotions appearing in typed words on the other’s computer screens. Pasts and futures shared, and saved in one another’s memories, burned on disks, and saved in emails. Joys of childhood experiences and sorrows of family ties lost, expressed through virtual cards and poetry.
Muted in her monitor, Lacey’s face reflected genuine joy in seeing his screen name pop up on her buddy-list. He was finally here, just as always.
William… sweet William. How he had soothed her pain with words of wisdom and understanding, and filled her lonely world with a purpose.
“Hello Ms. Lace” appeared in the little box. How she loved that smooth southern charm, and polite gentlemanly greeting.
“Hello Sir William, 143*” was always her reply.
The conversation continued, with “how was your day” and “what are your plans”. Sometimes teasing, sometimes suggestive innuendos would ensue. They had begun to page one another, and over the last few months, had even talked on the phone. It had become clear that one thing was on both of their minds, this was becoming an empty way of life.
“ I really want to meet you!” she had typed before she could double think her words. She held her breath, as she awaited his reply.
“Yes, I think it is time. I know that you have a lot more to lose than I, your risk is greater, so I think I should come to you. Would that be better for you?”
The whole room shifted as Lacey’s heart started to pound. Yes, yes, she screamed! Then laughed, as she finally wrote YES in big, bold letters. It was definitely time!
So the plans had been made for him to fly from East to West, and today was the day.
Now, as Lacey stood in front of Gate B-11, and the passengers started to pour through the door, she remembered his words from last night. “If you feel at all uncomfortable, you walk away, just walk away, I’ll understand.”
Uncomfortable? Nervous? Anxious? Yes, she felt all these things, as one by one strangers faces crossed her line of vision. Plump older ladies with blue hair, young tattooed teenagers with walkmans and backpacks slung over their backs. Suited businessmen with briefcases, already checking their pagers as they exited from the plane. One by one, strangers unfamiliar faces proceeded to parade by her.
Where was he? Perhaps he had changed his mind. My God, was she a fool! Hadn’t her Mom always told her that if something felt too good to be true, then it probably was? When would she ever learn that her dreams just weren’t ever going to be realized? She berated herself as she fought the tears brimming her eyelids, while passing one more glance towards the doorway…
And there he was, a smile as bright as the sun, flowers in hand, matching her stare in like amazement. He was hesitant at first, then he was walking toward her, as her frozen feet also began to move. And as she threw herself into his arms, she saw the sun rise in his gorgeous blue eyes, and felt the earth move as his lips met hers.
And what happened after, well, that’s another story…

Who would have thought that 28 years had come and gone? How many more were to come and go? I really didn’t know, but the thought made me stop and ponder the past.

With teacup in hand, I took a long, slow sip after I took a seat near the window so I could look over the backyard. I let out a sigh. “Ah,” I thought to myself. “This wasn’t how I had visualized my life 28 years ago.”

Way back when . . . when was that? I leaned back in my Queen Anne’s chair and looked at the man puttering around the yard. Age was treating him well. Although a computer geek for as long as I knew him, he had developed that distinguished look of a professor; thick salt and pepper hair going a little thin on top, wire-rimmed glasses and that disarming smile that made me thankful that I was the lucky one to snag him in college.

He had a wry sense of humor that could be either charming or totally exacerbating. More than once he had pushed multiple buttons to set me off and then seemed to enjoy jumping on them. On those days, I never wanted to see him again. Fortunately, those days were getting fewer and fewer.

On the other hand there were those days where I could barely catch my breath because of laughing so hard. Like the time we had a fifteen minute nonsensical conversation in front of 2 of our teens. One of the kids innocently made a comment that I could no longer remember, but it set us off making one nonsensical statement after another in perfect conversational inflection while the kids gawked at us utterly baffled. The conversation ended when neither of us could keep from laughing any longer. I smiled at the recollection. Not only then, now he could still make me laugh. In fact, it was easier now since there were no worries associated with kids.

As I took another sip of tea, the love of my life looked up and waved. I waved back wondering… “What is he thinking about?”

**************************************************************************

Taking a break from his raking, the man looked up to see her looking out the window at him. He smiled and waved. And when she responded he thought to himself, “Man, I’m the luckiest guy around.”

She was as beautiful as the day he had met her. Yes, after 28 years of marriage, she had wintered well, but that didn’t change his perception of her. She was the bride of his youth. Yes, her hair was turning grey, but she cleverly hid it by having her stylist dye it a honey shade of blonde so the grey roots blended when it grew out.

As he looked through the window at her, he chuckled. “She may be the death of me eventually, but right now she is the life of me. She must be the most exasperating woman alive, but I love her. She has a strength about her that makes me believe I can do anything. After 28 years of marriage, she is still the one I want beside me.”

He began gathering up his tools. His thoughts lingered on when he first met her. His calculus tutor had invited him to a freshman square dance. The first half of the evening was spent doing mixers, square dances where one changed partners every couple of calls. The last mixer of the night had set him up with her. All evening he had been dancing with petite young things that when he would swing his partner, he was afraid he’d break them in two. Then she rounded the corner. He was captivated by her smile and nearly thrown into the wall by her swing. That was the start of something wonderful.

Putting his tools away he smiled at their history. No matter how long he had known her she was always surprising him – in the kitchen, in the office and yes, even in the bedroom; although he valued her now as much for her radiant heat, especially in the winter, as he did for her love. Yes, he was getting to be an old man who valued warmth as much as sex these days.

He wandered over to the garden and picked a handful of chive blossoms. He smiled as he headed to the house. He hadn’t given her flowers for quite a while and he just wanted her to know that she was still the one for him.

Still the One – Orleans