At first she flashes me an irritated glance. I don’t blame her when I’m just another stumbling block in the mountain of obstacles trapping her attention. But when she registers my question, all of that frustration melts away.
“Oh, that would be a delight, young man. This old frame isn’t what it once was. If I were to bend as low as you right now, I’d never get back up.” The deep grooves in her face crinkle even more with her warm smile.
“I’ll be there one day myself I’m sure, so I have to lend a hand while I still can.” I wink.
My hand sweeps across the floor, gathering a travel-sized bottle of Cetaphil lotion, an unopened package of Kleenex, a tube of lip balm, and a notebookwith— I freeze. The pencil tucked in the binding transports me somewhere else, and another fragment of that letter comes back to me.
For as many summers as I can remember, you both were that for me. I gave this letter to your parents, Teddy, and told them to tuck it someplace meaningful, so that when you found it, it would feel more like coming home than saying goodbye.
“Oh dear! It’s happening younger and younger these days. Must be the pesticides in our food,” the old woman says as I gather my wandering thoughts and stuff them back and in their proverbial box.
With the objects collected in the palms of my hands I look back up at her.
What was that she said? Something about pesticides?
“I didn’t think it would happen to such a muscular fellow like yourself. Look at you!” She gawks at my biceps before sweeping her gaze toward the desk two feet ahead of us.
“But don’t you worry! Security will be here in a jiffy. Don’t ask me how I know that.” She points her index finger at me and winks.
I blink a handful of times, trying to recall what I’m doing crouched on the floor at this woman’s feet, when she shuffles her white tennis shoes across the swirl of blue-and-gray patterned carpet, her suitcase catching air every time it tips on the side with the functioning wheel.
The waiting attendant reaches out her hand. “Ma’am, I’ll take your ticket.”
“Oh, no,” she starts to say, but then leans in close and whispers something in the gate employee’s ear, who flashes an amused grin my way.
“I’ll get right on that, Dolores,” she says.
Only then do I straighten and quickly close the gap in the line.
This Dolores character looks up at me with a start, and I drop her items back into her bag.
“Oh good! You’re okay!” She grins.
Okaywould have been a guy not stunned silent at the sight of a notebook, but I don’t tell her that. As sweet as her demeanor is, she’s a stranger. She doesn’t need to know that one of her belongings catapulted me back to the moment I had to walk over to Teddy’s front door one last time to hand-deliver a goodbye I hoped would never come.
I smile at Dolores instead. “Yes. I’m sorry. You’ve caught me on an off day.”
“Oh boy… traveling on an off day is never good. Those are the kind when you forget your passport.”
“Or a knife in your back pocket,” I mumble to myself.
“What was that?” she hollers, the pitch of her voice fighting to keep up with the ambient noiseof the terminal.
I clear my throat. “It’s nothing. Why don’t I carry those onto the plane for you?”
She grins, letting the bag slip down her arm and bundle at her feet. “If you say so.” She abandons her suitcase handle without hesitation and shuffles her way down the jetway.
When I turn back to the attendant, she’s sizing me up like a Marvel character with his shirt off.
“That was really sweet of you,” she croons, her bright yellow ponytail swishing as she reaches for my ticket, brushing our hands together in the process.
It has the opposite effect she intended—an unfortunate prickling down my arm. I took this job in part for the new adventure, but mostly because it’s miles away from the opposite gender.
“Thanks,” I get out.
She finally looks down at her hand, and her panicked gaze flits toward the empty jet bridge. “Her boarding pass…”
I grab her arm and stop her. “It’s okay, I’ll take it to her.”
