Page 35 of Safer Alone
“Have you been to New York before?” I notice he looks like this question worried him.
I decide to tell him the truth, leaving out specifics. “I have, indeed. In fact, I lived there for the first twenty or so years of my life. This is the first time back in approximately a year, and then a couple of years before that.” I looked from him to my wineglass then toward the fireplace. He didn’t answer straight away. I was about to speak again when he beat me to it.
“I must have moved back around the same time you left, then.” I shrug as my response.
A man’s voice booms over the PA system at that time. “All those boarding flight A1216B to New York, please make your way to Gate fifteen. That’s fight A1216B to New York, make your way to Gate fifteen. Thank you.”
“That’s us!” I squeak out. Time sure has flown by. I swallowed my last sip of wine and place my glass down on the table, stood up and swung my bag over my shoulder again. Elliot, too, had finished his wine and placed his bag over his right shoulder this time.
“Let’s go then,” he replies. Offering me his left hand which I take without thinking. If nothing else, it would help us stick together among the crowd we would pass on our way.
Gate fifteen is less than a five-minute walk from the first-class lounge. A few people are already there when we arrive. Elliot leads us to the first class counter, flashes our tickets and the air hostess shows us through. We walk down the tunnel to the plane and my heavy breathing starts. One glass of wine has not helped my nerves much at all. By the time we reach the open door to the plane. I can feel my palms getting sweaty. I hope that it isn’t as obvious to Elliot. He shows our boarding passes to the male flight attendant at the door, who then shows us to our seats. There are two large black leather chairs with quite a substantial distance between each row which provides lots of legroom.
“Would you like the window seat, Angela?” Elliot asks.
I nod. “If you don’t mind?”
He responds, “Of course not.” I slide into my seat and fasten my lap belt. I place my bag onto my lap and look out the window.
“Want me to place your bag in the overhead compartment while I’m here?”
I snap my head back to face him and I see he is smiling at me. “Sure, I’ll just grab my book out and turn my phone on airplane mode.” I do just that and hand him my handbag. He places it in the cabinet, closes the door and then sits beside me, fastening his seat belt, too.
“I’m a nervous flyer, Elliot, I might as well just say sorry to you in advance. It’s a real possibility that I may be unwell during the trip,” I blurt out. Way to go Angela, sure way to embarrass yourself. I felt the all too familiar flush cross my cheeks and know I am turning a shade close to a tomato.
Elliot surprises me by raising his hand to my cheek and stroking it with his forefinger. He then drops his hand to envelope mine. “You will be fine. I’m right here the entire way, baby.” He smiles at me, and just like before lifts my hand and kisses my knuckles. I smile at him and then look around the cabin. No one was watching us this time, so why would he make this display of affection?
I turn back to him and see his eyes are intense. I couldn’t break eye contact with him so instead I simply say, “Thank you for being here with me.” I smile at him. On the inside I am screaming at myself, of course he is here with you, you idiot, he paid for the flights! Where else would he be?
The pilot comes over the PA system advising that we are due for take-off. We begin taxiing down the runway as the flight attendants run through the safety procedures. “Hey it’s okay, just hold my hand.” Elliot’s voice is soothing and comforting at the same time. I hold his hand, possibly a little too tightly, however he doesn’t complain. “Hey, look at me. We’re about to take flight.” I turn to look at him, his face full of emotion and kindness. He lifts my hand to his lips and kisses my knuckles again, and a wash of calm comes over me.
I don’t know how long we sit staring into each other’s eyes, but the next thing I know, the flight attendant is offering us a slice of baked French cheesecake or lemon meringue pie. I choose the pie and Elliot the cheesecake. I am also served a cup of tea and Elliot orders a latte. The lemon meringue was delicious. With a zingy filling and a feather light meringue. The base was lovely and crumbly. We eat our desserts in silence, looking at each other in between bites. “Would you like to try the lemon meringue, Elliot?” I ask. I have a small amount on my fork ready just above my plate.
“Oh why not?” He smiles and then opens his mouth. I move the fork towards his mouth and pop it in, he moans appreciatively.
“Mmm, that’s tasty.” He then forks some cheesecake and holds it up to me. “Try some cheesecake?”
I nod and open my mouth. He gently places the fork inside my mouth, and I pull the cheesecake off with my teeth. It is also delicious and creamy. “Yummy, we both chose well.” I smile at him and lick my lips. I then giggle like a schoolgirl. I feel better when he, too, breaks into a fit of laughter.
The male attendant who showed us to our seats walks along the aisle to collect our finished plates and cups, and offers us both a bottle of water. “Would you like a glass of wine or beer?” he asks. I mumble that I am okay with the water. Elliot too declined the alcohol.
“How are you feeling?” He asks when he has turned his attention back to me.
“I’m okay for a minute. How much longer is the flight?” I ask, beginning to regret my decision to enjoy the dessert from earlier on.
He glances at his watch. “We should be landing shortly, you’re nearly there.” He grabs my hand and gives it a quick squeeze. He doesn’t release my hand for the remainder of the flight.
As we are descending, I grip his hand tightly. He bends down beside to whisper in my ear, “Not long now, baby.” I just nod in response. There was that word again, baby. Once again no one was around to hear him address me that way. Maybe he had feelings for me? I will have to pay attention to our interactions over this weekend.
I feel the jump of the plane when we touch the tarmac with a bump. I must have almost driven my fingernails into Elliot’s hand; and all the while he never released me. Three more bumps and we are now safely on the ground. “I’m so sorry about your hand Elliot, I hope I didn’t hurt you.” I look at him, meeting his eyes, slightly frowning at him.
“I’m fine, you didn’t hurt me at all. You made it. See? We got through it together.” He smiles at me and with his free hand strokes my cheek. He is so gentle.
Oh well, it’s time to get off the plane and onto the next adventure. Like he was reading my mind, Elliot speaks. “Once we get off the plane, we will grab our luggage and head out to the pick-up area. Price has a car waiting for us. Then it’s time to go home.”
I blink at him twice, surely, he could read my mind. “Can you read my mind Elliot?” I ask. He laughs in response. Not just a polite laugh, but a real belly laugh. I couldn’t help but laugh, too.
After a few minutes he responds. “No Angie. I can’t read your mind, but it’s interesting to know you were thinking about my house. Just wait till you see it!” He sounds like a proud father, like he can’t wait to introduce me to his pride and joy.
