The Nonsense of Waiting Lovers (Part 3) (standard:romance, 922 words) [3/5] show all parts
Author: Sare	Added: Oct 10 2001	Views/Reads: 2569/1831	Part vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
This is called Part Three but there is no particular order... there is however a method to my madness that will become clear later on. For my warrior, with love.

The wind is cruel as I make my way across the parking lot towards the
airport.  It whips at my hair and forces my pantlegs to lash about my 
ankles.  I clutch my suitcase in one hand, my purse in the other.  The 
suitcase bumps against my knee.  The tails of my coat flap roughly.  I 
duck my head and walk faster as it begins to rain. 

As I reach the automatic doors I breathe in a sigh of relief.  I go to
the counter, register, check my bag.  Forty-five minutes until my 
flight.  I take a seat in the middle of an empty row, my purse on my 
lap. 

I’m SO nervous.  My stomach clenches painfully, my palms are damp.  My
foot jiggles anxiously, and I reach up to make sure my hair isn’t too 
wild, my earrings are still there, my collar is straight.  I close my 
eyes and whisper the short prayer that has become my mantra - “Let it 
be all right.” 

There is a sudden bustle and commotion down the end of the row of seats.
 A harassed-looking man and a frazzled woman, surrounded by four - no, 
five young children, and a baby in the woman’s arms.  The man wears a 
business suit and carries and attaché case.  One of the children holds 
tightly to his hand, another clings to his coat.  The woman holds the 
baby in one arm, another child’s hand, and somehow, a diaper bag and a 
purse.  Please, please, please tell me they aren’t all on my flight!  
The children are clean and neat but noisy.  They shout and clamor for 
their parents’ attention.  The parents speak to the children but their 
eyes are on each other.  Their eyes communicate at rapid speed.  No, 
only the father is travelling today. 

My nervousness bubbles up again, and I forget the family.  I try to take
a deep breath, clear my head.  Put both feet flat on the floor, sit up 
straight, breathe deeply.  I will not panic!  I am doing this because I 
want to, not because I have to.  Keep remembering that. 

My heart pounds in my chest.  I open my eyes to see an old woman making
her way along the row of seats, cane in hand, until she sits 
laboriously in the seat across from mine.  Her hair is fine and white.  
She wears glasses and a nice blue suit.  Thought she is very old her 
back is straight.  Her gaze is clear and penetrating as it falls on me. 
 Her eyes are brown, soft and liquid.  She smiles slowly, revealing a 
line of shiny teeth.  Her fingers let go of the head of her cane and 
she rests it against her knee.  She pulls the strap of her purse down 
off her shoulder and lets it fall to her lap. 

I watch her curiously, my nervousness put aside for the moment.  Again
her gaze settles on me, and she smiles again.  “Hello,” she says, and 
her voice is strong, with only the trace of an accent. 

I clear my throat.  “Hello.” 

“You look very nervous.” 

“Yes, I am.” 

“Have you flown before?” 

“Oh, yes, many times.” 

Her eyes twinkle.  “So it’s not flying that you are frightened of.” 

“No...” 

“Hmm.  I’m going to visit my granddaughter,” she says.  “I’ve been
meaning to go for a while.  She’s having a baby in a few weeks.  I’m 
going to be a great-grandmother!” 

“Congratulations.  You must be very happy.” 

“Yes.  Thank you.”  Her eyes search mine. 

“I’m going to meet someone,” I hear myself say. 

“That’s nice.  Have you known them long?” 

“A few months.  But we’ve never actually met.” 


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