At The Airport

AT THE AIRPORT

by Joseph Registrato

         "I hate this," Julia said. "I'm no good at good-byes."

         Julia and Richard held hands as they walked along a crowded concourse toward the boarding area at the Atlanta airport where he was scheduled to get on a jet back home to Miami. After he left, she was to go home to her husband and 6-year-old son, and that was to be the end of it. They were out of step and walked a bit awkwardly, partly because they were unaccustomed to each other's gait.

         "Let me kiss you one more time and I'll get going," she said, not looking at him. "What's the point in sitting and waiting?"

         "If that's what you want to do," Richard said, his voice trailing off a bit.

         "It's not what I want to do," she said, her voice rising, "but, I just hate this."

         They settled into hard, green plastic seats next to travelers wearing long coats and parkas, leather boots and gloves, and looked into each other's eyes, wet from the cold. It had been warm under the blanket in the Jeep, but now the cold penetrated their clothing. A strand of honey blonde hair fell off her forehead and over her left eye, which was green and blue-green depending on the light that hit it.

         "Why do you have to go back?" She said suddenly. "Why can't you stay and we can do this every day. It will be our little secret."

         He let out a little laugh and shook his head.

         "My wife would start to worry if I'm not home for dinner," he said. "My children, my boss, the mortgage company, they'd get suspicious in a day or two, don't you think?"

         "Oh, honey, you can make something up. Tell them it's a business trip."

         "Some business trip," he said. "What about your husband? What about your boss? They might notice something's not right with Julia if you don't show up for work until around noon and never go home."

         She smiled, kissed his cheek and looked at the doorway that led to the airplane. The airline people in their blue jackets had arrived and were moving papers behind a tall desk, getting ready to start boarding the plane.

         "I can't stay, Julia, but I can come back."

         She looked at him seriously, drew her face closer to his.

         "When?" She said. "When can you come back?"

         "Let me get back and check the calendar. A couple months?"

         She grimaced.  "Too long," she pleaded. "I can't wait that long. You've got to come back in a week, two at the most. Please, Honey."

         "I'll look at the calendar," he said, and took her hand and squeezed her slender fingers gently. "I'll call you tomorrow and we'll arrange it."

         "Promise?" She said.

         "Promise," he said.

         The airline people were stalling for some reason. It would not be good if he were stuck in Atlanta, there would be too many questions. He saw Julia looking at the travelers wandering in and out of shops and restaurants along the concourse.

         "If you saw me in a bar, would you try to pick me up?" She asked him, a playful smile on her lips.

         "Am I married in this question?" He asked.

         "Will you please forget about the wife and the children and the job for one minute? Would you?"

         "Absolutely," he said.

         "Like what would you say to try to pick me up?" She said.

         He considered for a second, then said "Maybe I'd see if you wanted a drink."

         "Oh, that's too old. There's lots better ways than that. One time this guy came up and he says, real serious, he says, 'You have the greenest eyes.' And I just looked at him. It was just so original, you know?"

         He wondered briefly whether she was trying to make him jealous.

         "So did he pick you up?"  He asked.

         Julia tilted her head and shrugged.

         "You know, honey, I don't really remember how that one turned out. I think he might have gotten a little too drunk and wandered off. I'm not sure, though. It was a long time ago. I just remember the line about my eyes. Do you like my eyes, honey?"

         "Your eyes are beautiful. But I'm not sure they're green."

         "They're blue-green. Some people say hazel."

         The airline people were scurrying around near the door to the gate more purposefully. Julia leaned forward in her seat and looked at him.

         "I wish you could stay," she said. "Are you sure you can't just say it's a business trip? Other men say it's a business trip."

         Other men. There had always been other men, and it occurred to him suddenly that there would always be other men. No matter how hard she promised or how many rings were on her finger, there would always be somebody else, a new thrill, a new ride to the airport, something secret.

         "It'll be our little secret," she said. "Nobody has to know."

         He nodded and smiled. "Sure," he said.

         "You told me a girl at your office was on alert to call you if your husband came looking. You must have told her about it."

         Julia said, "Listen, honey, that girl is a good friend. She'll never tell a soul. I've covered for her before when she had a little something cooking, if you catch on to what I'm saying. We have a mutual interest in keeping our little secrets."

         So it was a game, a competition, he thought. Let's see how many strange men we can snare in our little trap. Black widow spiders, the both of them. He was impressed, surprised, only a little shocked at the boldness of it.

         "So you and this girl, you're veteran stud hunters, eh?"

         "Like I said, mutual interests."

         "I see," Richard said, laughing a bit under his breath. It was probably as close to the truth as he would ever get out of this woman.

         "If you got a later plane, we could go back out in the jeep. I know where we can go. It's so cold out and we could snuggle under that big blanket again. This time I'll get undressed, or I'll keep on only my thigh highs. You'll have your hands full," she said, and looked at him very seriously, no smile at all.

         "I will look at the calendar when I get back and we will arrange it in a couple of weeks. I promise," he said.

         "You're no fun," she said. 

         The plane had started to board and they stood up and walked slowly toward the long line of passengers that snaked toward the ramp that led to the plane. Julia looked into the crowd.

         "You know, honey, an airport is a great place to pick up men. Just look," she said, and giggled.

She held his arm tightly for another moment, kissed him and then he let her go.

         "Make sure you call me tomorrow," she said.

         "I promise," he said.

         He found his seat, buckled up and tried to forget it, just forget it, please God, let me forget it because it's no good and will come back and bite me like all these things do eventually, God, please, let me forget it, forget her and that electricity she generates and those eyes and the way she undresses and rips at you, at me, at every man, of course, every man, please God, let me forget it. But he could not.

-end-