This is in response to the Daily challenge Cliffhanger. If you are joining this story already in progress, you can find Part 1. in the previous post.
“Yes, I’m still here, but they are starting to board my flight.”
“Please just stay there. I will be there soon.”
“Now all passengers sitting in zone 1 are invited to board.”
Crap. That’s our zone. Since when have they started boarding planes front to back? It makes no sense.
The Brazilian woman’s eyes haven’t left my face. She is biting her lip.
I can wait a few more minutes.
He has now reached concourse C and is counting the gates as he passes them.
I feel like I could be in a spy thriller. I’m picturing maybe a suave dark latin man (in a fedora) as the owner of this voice. He might say:
“The plan has changed. You must now take her to the last bathroom on concourse D. Give your left shoe to the attendant. She will understand and give you further instructions.”
Or maybe he’s the bad guy. A Donald Pleasance looking guy who will have to kill me once I’ve seen his face.
“And now we welcome all passengers to board.”
Come on, come on.
“Ok, I am here. I am at gate C13. You said C13, yes?”
I’m scanning the crowd. There are several men who could be him, all with cell phones to their ears.
“Yes, we’re sitting right here. What do you look like?”
He chuckles. “Well, I am an old man in a black coat. I have glasses and a moustache”
There he is, looking totally at the wrong gate.
I stand up and wave my arms, getting some curious looks.
“Ah. There you are.” We are both still on our phones as he approaches.
The Brazilian woman looks unsure. She smiles hesitantly and they speak briefly in Portuguese. It occurs to me she has never seen this man before.
“Maybe she was a mail order bride.” G. says later when I tell him.
The moustached man turns to me and takes my hands in his.
“Thank you so much”
The lady now smiles a big smile and pulls me to her and kisses me on both cheeks.
I feel myself blush.
“No problem. Good luck.”
“Now we must go to our flight.” he says, and they start to walk away.
Then she turns back and embraces me again, kissing both cheeks. People stare at us.
Then they are gone in the crowd.
And they are final calling our flight.
I shake Erik. If only I could sleep like this.
“Hey, wake up, kiddo. We gotta get on the plane. You missed everything! I just got kissed by a Brazilian woman.”
He stretches and stands.
Yes, really! You mom totally just saved the day. And while wearing plain old mom underwear, no less.”
He just smiles.
And that is how I, knace, was kissed by a Brazilian woman on the penultimate day of 2013.