by GA Hauser
But after sharing that intimacy and not even being able to meet eyes and smile, Owen felt sick to his stomach. It did mean something to him. He just thought if he said it did, he’d feel like an idiot. What did he expect from Taylor now that they had done it?
Owen knew all too well the trap of expectations. And after the horrible divorce he’d just suffered, he wasn’t going to get caught out like that again.
~
Taylor’s small leather bag rolled around the conveyor belt. He grabbed it, looked back, and didn’t see Owen any longer. Sighing sadly, he left through the departure doors to the main terminal. As he passed he noticed a small girl shouting, “Daddy! Daddy!” Watching her leap into Owen’s arms, Taylor smiled to himself and made his way to the parking lot.
Chapter Two
The next morning, before anyone else in the house awoke, Owen climbed off the sofa bed in the den, crept to the kitchen, and found the telephone directory. Just as he was flipping through the pages, Leah entered the room. “Whatcha doin’, Dad?”
As if he’d been caught with a Playboy magazine, Owen slapped the book closed and smiled. “Nothing important. What would you like to do today, Leah?”
“I don’t know.” She shrugged, opening the refrigerator.
A minute later Jenna appeared at the doorway in her robe and slippers. Immediately, she pointed to the telephone book. “What’s that out for?”
Growing annoyed that he couldn’t make a move without the third degree, reaching over Leah’s head, Owen set it back on top of the refrigerator and replied, “Nothing.”
Jenna stared the pot of coffee and snorted, “Nothing, huh?”
Staring at her uncombed hair, her worn out appearance, Owen wondered how the beautiful bride he had walked down the aisle with had changed into such a frumpy housewife.
Leah sipped a glass of orange juice. Once she placed it down on the table, she asked, “How about the mall, Dad?”
“Shopping?” he moaned. “Why do we always have to go shopping when I come out?” Owen located a Denver Broncos coffee mug he usually used during his stay and put it near the dripping coffee maker.
“I like shopping,” Leah whined.
“Just like your mother,” Owen said under his breath but knew both of them heard it.
“You want to stay in a hotel?” Jenna warned.
He did. He wanted to stay in a hotel, find Taylor Madison’s name in the directory, and screw him all night. It beat the hell out of the lumpy sofa bed he was banished to in a room so tiny he could hear his breathing echoing off the walls. Knowing any answer could bring on a full-scale war, Owen sat down across from his daughter and whispered, “We can go to the mall.”
“Cool.” She brightened up and finished drinking her juice.
~
Taylor felt exhausted from traveling back and forth to LA for the last few weeks. Living in hotel rooms and eating restaurant food had taken its toll. Checking the clock, seeing it was only nine, he rolled over in his bed and closed his eyes for a few more minutes of shuteye. When the phone rang he grumbled in annoyance, reaching to his nightstand and picked it up. “Hello?”
“Shit. Did I wake you?”
“Hey, Wyatt.” Taylor sat up, shifting the pillow behind him against the headboard. “I was awake, but still in bed just being a lazy ass. What’s up?”
“I was wondering if you wanted to get together for some racquetball.”
Rubbing his face tiredly, Taylor tried to decide if he had the energy.
“You there?” Wyatt asked.
“Yeah. Uh, I’ve been in LA all week working on a project. I just flew in last night.”
“Right. I remember you telling me that. So, are you too tired for a game?”
“No…no, I should go. I’ve been neglecting my usual workout routine.”
“Traveling does that.”
Finding some energy, his feet meeting the carpeted floor, Taylor stretched his back and asked, “What time do you want me there at the court?”
“When can you be there?”
Taylor glanced at his clock. “Ten?”
“Okay. I’ll call and reserve it. See ya there.”
Yawning, Taylor hung up, motivating himself to get in the shower.
An hour later he parked his pick-up truck in the lot of the sport’s complex and hopped out carrying his gym bag and racket. Clouds obscured the sun on the cool September day as he made his way inside the building. Showing his pass to the woman at the desk, he waited for her nod and then walked to the locker room. Inside the tiled chamber, voices echoed off the solid cement walls as men laughed and shouted to each other loudly. Finding an available locker, Taylor dropped his bag and began changing his clothing.
“You beat me here?”
As he tugged on his gym shorts, Taylor found Wyatt’s smiling face. “I did.”
Wyatt opened a locker next to Taylor’s and hung his jacket inside it. “So? How was LA? Get to do any sightseeing in Tinsel Town?”
Immediately Taylor thought about his little fling with Owen. There were some bragging rights in there somewhere, but knowing Wyatt was straight, Taylor wondered if he should just keep it to himself. “It was fine. No, I didn’t get to sight-see. I was too busy.”
“It must suck traveling back and forth every week. I don’t envy you. There’s nothing glamorous about flying these days.”
Taylor nodded as he sat down to tie the laces of his tennis shoes. “I know. It takes it out of me. I imagine doing nothing but sleeping all weekend.”
“You’re back out again Monday?” Wyatt had finished dressing and closed the locker door, taking the little key out of the lock to stick in his pocket.
“Yeah. I will be until the project is finished.”
“What the hell are you building?”
“A thirty-story office slash retail center.”
“Like LA needs another one of those,” Wyatt picked up his racket, swinging it for practice.
Standing up, shutting his locker door, Taylor stared for a moment at Wyatt’s pleasant features, deciding on just going for it. “I met a guy on the plane.” He paused to see what Wyatt’s reaction was. It wasn’t the first time he had talked about his sex life.
Wyatt paused, then nodded, as if saying, “Go ahead”.
Taylor felt his cheeks warm slightly at the memory of Owen’s touch. “We messed around on the flight a little.”
“Did you?” Wyatt appeared amused. “Are you a member of the Mile High Club now?”
“Not quite.” Taylor started walking out of the locker room.
“Too bad. Maybe next time.”
Smiling to himself, Taylor found his way to their reserved court, wishing he could join that elite club.
~
The mall bored him senseless. Nothing was worse than walking around an enclosed artificial environment while his daughter pointed to every horrific fashion trend and begged to own it. How a ten year old could be so completely self-absorbed and materialistic boggled his mind. Then again, she was Jenna all over.
“Don’t you want to get out in the sunshine?” he implored. “It’s so sunny out there.”
“It’s too cold.”
“Too cold? It’s not even winter yet. What will you do when it snows?” He dug in his heels as she tried to drag him into yet another accessory shop.
“I stay inside with my friends and play video games. I don’t play in the snow anymore, Dad. I’m ten!”
“Ooh! Ten! Man, you’re old.” He resisted her yanking. “Why are you taking me into all of these crappy stores?”
“I like them!”
“How many pairs of earrings do you need? You only have two ears, and I already bought you three pairs.”
“That’s because it was a buy two get the third one free sale!”
How could he argue with that logic? Dragged inch by terrible inch, he was once again subjected to her holding up long gaudy dangle earrings that would make a hooker look tacky and begging him to open his wallet.
~
Showered and back in his jeans and cotton shirt, Taylor packed up his sweaty clothing, feeling refreshed and energetic after the vigorous game. Checking his watch, he asked Wyatt, “You have time for lunch or do you have to get home?”
“Ariana and the girls are waiting. It was all I could do to slip out this morning without a hassle. I promised them I wouldn’t miss lunch.” Wyatt zipped up his gym bag and picked up his racket. “You want to join us?”
Imagining the warm welcome from Ariana and the cuddles from their children, Taylor accepted. “If I’m not too much of a nuisance.”
Giving Taylor a sideways glance, Wyatt replied, “You know that’s crap. Ariana and the kids love you.” Wyatt removed his cell phone from his pocket.
Smiling as he followed Wyatt out of the locker room, Taylor heard him say, “Hello, darling, we have a guest for lunch…”
Taylor was glad for the company, but wished he could call home and say, “Hello, darling” to a partner of his own.
~
His bags packed and by the front door, Owen checked the time and looked over his shoulder. “Jenna? You almost ready?”
As if she were extremely put out by the effort, she exhaled a loud sigh and found her jacket.
“Look, I’ll take a cab.” Owen couldn’t wait to put that long distance between he and Jenna. Like clockwork, within forty-eight hours they had gotten on each other’s nerves.
“No. It’s okay. I know Leah wants to see you off.”
At that comment, Owen shouted, “Leah?”
Her voice answered from the upper floor, “Coming, Dad!”
The patter of her feet rushing down the carpeted steps followed. Once they were gathered at the front door, Owen opened it and headed to Jenna’s Subaru. Buckled in and on their way, Owen twisted around to the backseat and noticed his daughter busy playing with her cyber pet, something he never did understand. “So, when I get home, you want me to call?”
“Yes. And text me all week.”
Smiling at the reply, glad he still made some difference in his daughter’s life, Owen whispered, “Then you do miss me when I’m gone.”
“Dad!”
He peeked at Jenna who was ignoring them while she drove. As with every departure from Denver, Owen felt a slight sadness in his mid-section at the separation from Leah, but with it came relief to have his life and privacy back again. Jenna was very demanding, nosy, and consuming in her needs, even after the divorce the henpecking and whining continued. Though he was glad he had Leah, he sometimes wished he’d been able to make a clean break from Jenna and never lay eyes on her again.
~
Packed, Taylor secured the house, loaded his pick-up truck with his luggage, and walked next door to his neighbor’s house. Ringing the bell, he waited, checking his watch.
“Hi, Taylor.”
“Hello, Ella. I’m off again and I just wanted to let you know.”
“Don’t worry, dear, I’ll keep a good eye on your place and collect your mail.”
“You are a sweetheart, you know that?” He smiled adoringly into the older woman’s face.
“I just feel so sorry for you to have to travel so much.”
“It’s just until the project is complete. Then if I’m lucky, the old man will give me a break.”
“You need a nice wife to care for you, Taylor. A good-looking man like you shouldn’t be single.”
“I’m working on it, Ella.” He kissed her cheek and before he walked off he asked, “Anything I can bring you from LA?”
“How about George Clooney?”
He burst out laughing at the mischievous look in her eyes. “You got it.”
“Goodbye, dear! Have a safe flight!”
Waving, he made his way to his truck and headed to the airport.
~
Jenna idled the car at the departure terminal. Owen hurried to kiss Leah to allow them to leave the area before security raced over to shout at them to move on. The tension at the airports ever since 9-11 was palpable. No one could relax anymore.
Standing on the pavement in front of United Airline’s section of the terminal, Owen waved until he couldn’t see Leah’s face any longer from where she twisted back from her place in the front seat of the car. Gathering his bag, he stood tall and entered the madness of the building, intent on a quick drink before boarding.
~
Taylor stuffed the ticket-stub from the parking lot into his wallet, then grabbed his luggage and jogged to the entrance of the terminal. As he entered he heard the blaring announcements over the PA to keep baggage close, report anything suspicious, and don’t act like a terrorist in general. Finding his flight information on a monitor, Taylor removed his e-coupon from his jacket pocket and headed to the counter. After the long arduous line of robotic-like bodies made their way through the rat maze of ropes and poles, he handed his boarding pass and identification to a uniformed employee and then was directed to a counter. Finally free of his bag, boarding pass in hand, he made slow progress through security and this time was patted down, rather seductively, by a male security guard. Slightly startled by the amount of touching he was receiving, he wondered if it was protocol or just a horny man’s attempt at groping. The airport security official never met his eyes. Without a word or gesture to inform him if the experience had been a turn on, Taylor assumed he was free to go since he was now being ignored. He noticed his wallet and keys had passed through the x-ray machine and were waiting to be collected. “Geez,” he murmured under his breath and stood for a moment to watch the process. When the security guard did the exact same pat-down to the next man, Taylor felt relieved he was not singled out for a “good feel of his privates” and continued on his way.
Under the bright florescent lights and through the mulling, dazed crowd, Taylor wandered the shops to kill some time before he headed to the gate. Though he had been on dozens of flights, airports never ceased to make him feel dizzy with the amount of action that surrounded him. Maybe it was the lighting? Perhaps the sense of apprehension of an impending crash, whatever it was, Taylor felt unease and usually headed straight to the bar.
A pleasant, yet slightly overcrowded drinking establishment drew him inside. Looking over the beer on tap, Taylor took his wallet out of his pocket and waited to get the bartender’s attention. Once he had a Guinness in his hand, he scoped out the area for an available seat.
~
Checking the time, Owen figured he’d head to the gate and sit and read the magazine he had purchased. Walking down the long, hollow corridors of the massive international airport, Owen felt slightly lonely and let down. He missed Leah. That once a year visit for two weeks in the summer didn’t seem adequate. And the weekends went by so quickly, he was hardly on the ground for forty-eight hours. It felt more like one day with all the traveling to and from the airport. As he worried about his daughter growing up with a part-time father, Owen found his assigned gate and sat down with his Newsweek, thumbing through the articles. Life was never easy; he knew that more than most.
~
The beer eased some of his discomfort. Taylor checked his watch, stood up, draped his leather jacket over his arm and began heading to the gate as boarding time drew near. Scuffing his boot heels tiredly as he went, thinking of the long week on the job site ahead, Taylor imagined a long nap on the queen-sized mattress in his hotel. Reading the numbers of the gates as he passed, seeing his was next, Taylor paused and felt his body surge with excitement. “I don’t believe it.” There, sitting with a magazine on his lap, was the fantastic Owen Braydon. Pausing to admire him before approaching, Taylor licked his lips at how those tight, faded blue denims hugged Owen’s legs, how broad his shoulders were in the beige cotton shirt he wore, and ogled his gorgeous profile with that perfectly straight nose. Having an impulsive thought, Taylor spun around and jogged back to the main area of the terminal, hurrying into one of the shops to buy some things he hoped to hell he would use.
~
&nbs
p; Finally after sitting for a half hour, Owen heard the attendant announcing the commencement of boarding. He folded his magazine in half, checking his ticket for the seat and zone number. Already feeling tired, he rubbed his rough, unshaven face and imagined a good night’s rest before Monday morning arrived and he was back at his desk. His seat row was called over the PA system. Rising out of the chair, grabbing his coat as he went, Owen moved with the rest of the weary travelers to the darkly dressed staff member who inspected the passes. Walking down the gangway once again, going on autopilot since he had done it so many times, Owen showed the stub of his pass to another attendant and was directed to his seat; window, left side, behind the wing. Stuffing his jacket into the overhead compartment and his magazine into the seat pocket in front of him, Owen sat down heavily and stared out at the tarmac and the action on the runways.
What felt like an eternity later, they finally closed the doors and began backing away from the gate as the head attendant made his announcements, which Owen could recite by heart. Once again the flight was sparsely occupied and many open seats remained. Even though he couldn’t recline his seat back yet, he tried to stretch out and leaned his pillow and blanket against the side of the plane to close his eyes to nap.
Feeling the force of the take-off, he opened his eyes. As the jet lifted off the ground and the landing gear clunked into place under the fuselage, Owen became impatient for his little bottle of chardonnay and, ultimately, his own bed. When someone sat down next to him, he turned to look, choking in shock. “Taylor?”
“Hello, Mr. Braydon.”
“I didn’t see you at the gate.”
“I know.”
Owen loved the devilish look in Taylor’s light blue eyes. “Were you hiding from me?”
“I was.”
Smiling, very flattered, Owen gestured to Taylor’s seat and asked, “What would you do if someone was sitting there?”
“Ask him to move and find another spot.”
