Chapter 7

The next day, Franklin got another email from Christy:

"Franklin:

I'll be arriving at SEA-TAC Airport on Alaska Airlines flight # 792, and will be there at around 4:30 PM. So, with the baggage checkout and everything, I should be out of there by about 5:00 PM. I hope this is ok with you. Btw, this is a strange question, but do you believe in fate? Every time we connect like this, I get the weirdest feeling, like a string is pulling me north, toward you. And, even weirder, everything seems to be falling into place just perfectly. At first, I thought it was just coincidence, but now, I'm not sure. It seems to perfect to be real, but it is happening, isn't it? Sorry for the rambles. Anyway, when would you like to meet?

Christy"

Franklin sat back in his chair and thought. He had been feeling that same feeling. That was odd, very odd. Yet it seemed right in some odd way. His mind was very scientifically oriented, but he did believe in a form of an abstract God figure or something supernatural that made the rules, started the initial game, created the players and then took it's whatever out of it, leaving the universe alone to see how it played out. He wondered if there was such a thing as fate. Was this all pre-destined to happen? Or was it just a huge coincidence? Then he thought logically that it couldn't be just coincidence. There had to be some other explanation. Fate? Possibly.

He sent an email to Christy...

"Christy:

Ok, I'll have everything arranged for you, leave it all to me. You don't worry about a thing. Just get here.

As to the subject of fate, I am of the opinion that we humans create our own destiny. However, there are many things beyond our understanding, things such as this strange set of events in which we find ourselves involved. I don't know, but it somehow feels right. This whole thing just feels so... right, and good. Weird, huh? Perhaps it is fate.

Let's meet at Delauranti's Deli at the far end of the Pike Place Public Market. Say, oh, 1:00pm on Saturday? This would be a neutral location for us to meet. Then, after we do a bit of shopping, we can go to my home and talk while my temporary aid Mike cooks us a dinner. Is this ok, or am I going too fast? I don't know, I've never done this sort of thing before. Please tell me if I'm making you uncomfortable. I don't want you under any pressure at all.

Bye for now.

Franklin"

As Christy read this, she was struck with a question that she just had to ask him. "It couldn't be, could it? It's to odd. No, he couldn't be, or could he?" she thought. She just had to ask him. He sounded so innocent, yet so honest. She sent him another email.

"Franklin:

Forgive me, but I have to ask you something, well, personal, but you don't have to answer, and your answer if you choose to answer will not affect my decision, as I have, in fact already made my decision. I'd love to be your aid, and more, if you want. But my question is just something that's been nagging at me since your first email. Have you ever been on a date with a woman? Are you a virgin? Have you ever even kissed a woman? Your emails all sound so innocent, and sweet.

It's all just fine, no pressure here at all. Accept, why don't kick Mike out for the evening, and we will cook dinner together? That would allow us to get to know each other much better.

Damn, I'm sorry, you're probably not ready for that yet. Now I'm going too fast, forgive me, please. I didn't want to scare you. Forget I said that last part, ok?