**********
We’d met in an online support group. She was coming to meet me in person. I stood near the departure gate, anxiously awaiting her arrival. My heart fluttered in my chest. “Is this right?” I asked myself, as I paced the floor. We only knew each other through the internet and the phone. The monitor hanging from the ceiling said her flight was at the gate. People walked toward me. Men, women, children, but I didn’t see her. I stopped pacing and watched closely. Did I miss her? Is she wandering the airport lost? I knew what she looked like. I’d seen her picture. I couldn’t have missed her.
She stepped through the gates, “Michael?” She asked when she saw me.
“Ginny? There you are!” I walked up and hugged her. “I’m so glad you’re here. This is the moment I’ve been dreaming of for so long.” I held her tight in my arms. “You’re here. I finally get to hold you.”
“I’m here, Michael.” She buried her face against my chest. “I’m here, baby.” We pulled back. She looked up at me. “I’m really here.” She said. Her green eyes sparkled. They were beautiful. There was a sense of déjà vu. My heart fell into those eyes. I was powerless.
I cooked for her that night. She sat in the kitchen, offered help, but listened when I said, “No! This is your first time here. Like I said I would, I’m cooking for you.” She stood. I refilled her wine glass, but took it from her hand. I set it on the table. The sweet-and-sour beef stew simmered on the stove. It filled the room with a wonderful aroma. My son was in his room. It was just the two of us.
“Thank you.” I said and wrapped my arms around her.
“For what?” she asked, melting into my arms. I buried my face in her hair.
“For taking the chance.” I paused and enjoyed the feel of her.
“Thank you for trusting me enough to make this trip.”
PREVIOUS PAGE
