Chapter 3: Angels Watching Over

I don't know how long I sat there... a half hour... an hour. It was getting late, and I needed to head home, but I couldn't bring myself to leave the table--even after her presence faded away. Eventually, I marshaled enough strength to get myself off the chair. Towing my suitcase on its rollers, I walked to the main hall with the view of the aprons. For some reason I wanted to linger in this place. I didn't want to admit it, but I was scared; scared that if I stepped out of this building, I would lose my soul. Turn into just an empty carcass, wandering aimlessly... a mindless creature that would fade away... in time.

Looking out the panoramic windows, I watched the planes taking off and landing, but my eyes were not really seeing much. I was gazing at the past. Was it my stubborn side that didn't want to let it go, or was I not ready to come to terms with... with loss? For almost five years, she had been a part of me, however much I had tried to forget her... or convince myself that it was over. And now, this encounter brought home that I had never let go of her... she was, still, very much a part...

I was in a bubble, cut off from my surroundings, enveloped by her aurora, the past, and how she felt in my arms a while ago. What's more, for a brief period, the emptiness inside me had been filled with the warmth of her smile, her laughter, and all the other feelings she had evoked in me. Even the sadness I had felt during our conversation had been a welcome relief from the constant emptiness, or the anger that had been part of me for so long. Now, it was back to emptiness. I didn't have the energy or the inclination to muster anger, or any other emotion. I felt like a ship without any wind behind its sails, cast adrift, lost in the middle of the ocean, without a port of call.

This wasn't closure, contrary to any notion I might have or cling to.

"Excuse me... Excuse me... Sir?"

I heard a female voice far away, calling out, intruding...

"Sir? Are you all right?"

Was somebody talking to me?

Then, I felt a hand touch my arm, followed by an insistent and concerned, "Are you all right?"

As I broke out of my haze, I saw a woman in uniform, standing by my side. My mind was sluggish, but eventually I recognized the airline uniform. When my eyes settled on her face, she looked familiar, but I couldn't place where I had seen her or recall a name.

"I'm sorry... What did you say?" I asked, struggling to pull myself together, and get my bearings.

"Are you all right? Do you need a doctor or something?" she asked, her voice tinged with concern.

"I-I... I'm all right... Do I know you?" I blurted.

She hesitated for a moment, giving me a quizzical look, then decided to answer. "I was on the flight."

Drawing a blank look from me, she elaborated. "I was one of the flight attendants on your flight."

"Ahhh... That's why you looked familiar..."

My mind skipped a gear, and I was puzzled why she would be here, when...

"You don't have a flight?" I asked.

"No. My flight was cancelled, so I get to spend the night here."

"Aahh..."

Your flight is cancelled... Is she...

The wheels started to turn faster, and I debated whether to ask her about that. Before I could come to a decision, she asked, "Can we take a seat there?" pointing at the row of seats a few meters away from where we were standing.

Without waiting for a response, she gently guided us there.

After we took our seat, I remembered to introduce myself. "I'm sorry. Where are my manners... Mitchell Tanner."

"That's OK. You were, pre-occupied... Dana Conor," she replied pleasantly.

I was starting to feel a headache come, as if my tiredness wasn't enough. I closed my eyes, rubbing them, massaging my temples. When I felt the tension leave, I opened my eyes to find her watching me.

"I'm sorry... I'm pretty beat up... I guess it shows," I offered as a way of explanation.

She just waved it off as if to say 'it's all right, ' but kept watching me. She waited patiently as I tried to gather a semblance of myself. Once I felt a bit more human, I was curious about her. A thousand questions rushed in, all at once: what was she doing here, why did she think I needed help, where was...

I guess it must have showed on my face, so she said, "I was on my way to the exit, when I saw you standing there, and recognized you from the flight. You know what happened on the flight... my colleague was paying extra attention to you, so it was kind of hard not to recognize you."

I nodded. "I guess... Pretty unusual wasn't it?"

"It happens, but not very frequently."

"So what made you..." I prompted, my curiosity getting the better of me.

She was reluctant to answer, and I could see she felt uncomfortable.

"I understand... We just met, and don't know each other. And I think I have an idea how I look at the moment," I said with a sigh.

"You... You were like a statue, cut out of stone... I couldn't see if you were breathing. I thought, maybe I should call for some medical help."

"That bad, eh?"

She nodded, concern written on her face. However, she kept her curiosity in check, not wanting to intrude. In a way, it was a strange situation. She might know I was a friend of her colleague, but she didn't know me.

"You seem to be OK now, are you?" she asked, breaking the silence.

"I guess... I was..." I tried to say, but my mind was preoccupied by the thoughts of her, if she was still here...

"Do you mind if I smoke?" she asked.

"Not at all... I'm sorry, I didn't ask, but I am not holding you up, am I? I am sorry if I caused you any concern," I replied, while lighting her cigarette.

"It's all right. Don't worry about it," she replied with a short wave of her hand dismissing my concern. Then, with a smile she added, "We help passengers, and you are in an airport."

I couldn't help but smile. She was good at what she was doing. "Thank you. I really appreciate it," I said, lighting a cigarette myself.

I was starting to feel more comfortable in her presence, and that was surprising considering we didn't know each other. Somehow, she had managed to create a relaxing atmosphere, and I was debating seriously how I could ask the questions I had in my mind... of a complete stranger.

"Umm... She has..." she said.

When I looked at her, she continued. "She left an hour ago on her flight. I was assigned to another flight, which was cancelled later."

"I see."

Well, she's gone! What were you going to do if she was still around? Go after her?

Could I have? Would I? I didn't know... She was gone, and the only thing I felt was desolation... a sense of being lost. Completely lost. I just wanted her by my side. For the first time in many years, I felt a desperate need for her presence--the likes of which I had rarely felt before. And that scared me. I had always been independent.

"Mitchell?"

"Hmm..."

"Mitchell?" she called out gently, trying to get my attention.

I tried to fight off the desperation, still lost in the troublesome maze of my mind, chasing endless thoughts and questions. I felt her hand on my arm.

When I looked at her, she asked, "You want to talk about it? About what's troubling you? Maybe it would help."

"I... I'm terribly sorry... I didn't want to be such a burden. I'm OK... You've been a tremendous help," I replied, the words coming out with a mechanical monotony, while trying to shake my mind clear of thoughts of her.

"Nonsense. I didn't do anything, and you are no trouble at all," she responded.

I felt embarrassed, and guilty of keeping her from doing whatever she was going to do. I took a long drag from my cigarette, trying to gather my wits.

She kept her gaze on me. She seemed to be mulling something in her mind. Coming to a decision, she said, "You two have a history, don't you?"

At that, the air whooshed out of me like a deflating balloon, and I slumped in my seat.

"I guessed as much..." she said, patting my arm to comfort me.

"How? Is it that obvious?" I asked after I caught my breath.

She took a long pause, considering her answer carefully.

"Is it that difficult a question?" I prompted.

"No, it's not. But... it's more complicated than that. I don't want to be the cause of further pain... to either of you... Maybe I shouldn't have opened my mouth," she replied, clearly disturbed at something.

Either of--

What happened? Is something wrong with her?

"Why? What's wrong? Was she OK? Did she say something?" My questions came out in a rush, the urgency unmistakable.

"She was quiet... lost in thought. I don't know her very well, but we have worked together on many flights. She's always been bubbly... But today, she disappeared for a while... I am guessing she visited the rest room. When she returned her makeup was refreshed, but her eyes were red. What happened between you two?"

"It's... it's a long story... "

She was smiling when she left... Why did she cry? I didn't want to hurt her. I never wanted to hurt her. She knew that, didn't she?

"I'm not going anywhere... do you have plans?" she said, taking me by surprise.

"Why would you do something like that? You hardly know me..." I found myself saying. I realized it wasn't a very polite thing to do, and I was abashed by my lack of self-control. I was at my wit's end, but that was no excuse to be tactless.

Before I could apologize, she gently patted my arm, trying to reassure me, and said, "Mitchell. I understand your concerns... Let's say I have a soft spot for... for lovers... I may not know her very well and you not at all, but... I watched you two on the airplane. I saw her when she came into the crew lounge. And, I saw you standing here... I think you need to talk, and I'm willing to listen. Where's the harm in that?"

That earned her a look of gratitude, because at that moment I was feeling like a drowning man, completely helpless.

"Thank you. You are very kind." Checking my watch, I found it was getting close to dinnertime. "It's almost dinnertime. Would you join me for dinner... here or in town? I don't know what your plans were, but if I have to take you up on your offer, I must insist. That's the least I can do."

"Dinner would be fine. In fact, the hotel I'm staying has a good restaurant, so we can share a taxi downtown and have dinner there. I don't have any plans, so don't concern yourself about that," she said. Giving me a gentle and sympathetic look, she ran her hand on my arm, and added, "I would really like to hear this... Mitch."

Now that the immediate course of action was decided, my mind switched its attention to details. I had people expecting me, and I was already late. I didn't know if I wanted to face them, tonight. I had to cover any eventuality, keeping my options open. Working on a practical problem was better than being directionless, feeling lost and helpless. It helped take my mind off the feelings that were plaguing me.

"Thank you. Ummm... I need to make a call. Some people are expecting me. They might get worried. If you excuse me for a moment, I'll be right back."

I was considering taking a room at her hotel to spend the night, and face the family next day, with a fresh face rather than the way I looked. I wasn't planning to sleep with Dana--come on, we've just met--and I wasn't over my encounter to jump into bed with a woman.

I went to the public telephones, and made a call to my sis. She wasn't at home, so I tried my parents. Mom answered at the third ring, and as soon as she recognized my voice, I was under a barrage of questions. Once I calmed her, I told her I ran into an old friend and we lost track of time trying to catch up, that's why I was late. Then I added that I might be held up until late at night or perhaps tomorrow, so they shouldn't wait on me. She wasn't happy, but she didn't make an issue of it. That done, I went back to Dana, and collecting our belongings, we headed out to the taxi stand.

In the taxi, Dana gave the directions to the hotel, and half an hour later, we were at its doorstep. At the reception desk, I felt a bit awkward. I was trying to figure out a way to get a room discretely, so that I wouldn't give Dana the wrong idea, but she noticed my unease, and pulled me aside.

"Mitchell, is something wrong? Are you having second thoughts?" she asked.