The Nashville Flight
Rita Durrett
“Passengers on flight 1563 for Nashville will begin boarding at gate 58 in ten minutes,” an anonymous female voice announced.
Sofia Watson settled into one of the two empty seats lining the wall of the waiting area. She pulled her Kindle and a banana out of her backpack before she stashed the pack under the seat. Her eyes greedily devoured the words while she nibbled the fruit, wiping her mouth with the sleeve of her denim jacket. It was her favorite, well-worn and just as comfortable as its matching jeans. The holes in the knees of the pants were authentic. Pink and black high-top tennis shoes matched the bright pink of the knit cap that fit snuggly over her ears, to help block out the sounds droning on around her.
“Is this seat taken?”
Startled, she looked up and into the cool blue eyes of a young man. She figured him to be about her age, maybe a little older. It was hard to know. He was dressed casually in tennis shoes, jeans, a Doors t-shirt and jacket.
“Sure, I mean no, it isn’t taken.” He looked sleepy and a little lost.
“Thanks.” He shrugged out of his back pack, dropped it on the floor and slipped his guitar strap from his shoulder. He leaned the worn instrument case against the wall and eased into the chair, careful not to take up any of her space. He rummaged through the pack, found a couple of energy bars and kicked the bag under the seat. “I hope this is the 7:00 Nashville flight.”
She smiled. He reminded her of her little brother, forging ahead, right or wrong and dealing with the consequences later. “You’re in the right place.”
“Good. Boy, this is early for me. I could have used a couple of hours more sleep.” He raked his fingers through his dark, ear-length hair in a futile effort to move it away from his face. “There’s barely any light outside and this cold weather is getting me down. I hate wearing a coat.” He pulled off the offending garment, laying it by the case.
Sofia glanced out the window and back to her companion, a pensive smile on her face. “Spring will be here in a few weeks, and along with it, daylight savings time. You’ll soon be complaining about the heat.”
A low rumble spilled from his chest and brought with it an engaging smile. She liked the change. “Are you a musician?” she asked, peering around him to inspect the guitar case.
“I am, or at least I like to think I am. I’ve been playing that thing since I was about six. My dad played and taught me. He died during my 9th grade year and left the guitar to me. I promised myself I’d play in Nashville one day, and dedicate my performance to my dad.”
“I bet he’d be really proud of you. Have you made a recording?”
He ducked his head, a move that tugged at Sofia’s heart.
“Nah, I guess I’ve got a lot to do before I get to the Ryman stage, but I’ll be up there one of these days.”
“You know, I believe you will. You have determination, and that’s half the battle.”
The same lady’s voice came over the intercom. “The Southwest Denver flight arriving into Tulsa has been delayed. That plane will be taking passengers on to Nashville on flight 1563 so there will be a one hour delay for that flight. Once again, Southwest Flight 1563 for Nashville Tennessee will be delayed approximately one hour. Passengers are advised to watch the information boards for updates.”
“Maybe you can get comfy and catch a few zzzs,” Sofia commented to her companion. “I’ll wake you when the plane arrives.”
“I’m awake now. What I really need is a cup of coffee.” He stood up and looked around, stretched, yawned, stuffed his jacket in his pack before pulling the pack over his shoulders. “By the way, my name’s Gabe, what’s yours?”
“Sofia. My mother loved to watch Sofia Loren movies.”
“Nice. It fits you. You have that classic look about you. Wanna go get some coffee with me? It looks like we have plenty of time to kill.”
“I’m not a coffee drinker, but a diet soda would be great. I might even get something to eat. That banana left me a little hungry.”
“Sounds good. Come on, put your reader in and I’ll carry your pack until you can toss the peel.” He waited for her to zip the Kindle into a compartment, then slung her pack over one shoulder and his guitar case over the other, with an ease that came from practice.
“Do you live in Tulsa?” She asked as they walked along, occasionally dodging golf carts and other travelers with a variety of burdensome luggage.
“I do, lived here all my life. You?”
“Me, too. I bet we’ve seen each other before and didn’t know it. Here’s the coffee shop.” Sofia paid for her soda and a sausage biscuit, and waited as Gabe paid for his. She noted with amusement the nearly reverent way he held the cup.
“Ummm, good stuff.” He savored the moment. “Ready? Do you want to sit here or walk back to our gate?” Gabe adjusted his guitar case, changed his coffee cup to the other hand and placed the free hand around Sofia’s waist.
She pretended not to notice, but her insides were doing cartwheels. “Let’s walk.” She didn’t want him to remove the hand. After a short walk back along the corridor the hand suddenly relinquished its hold. “Hey, where are you going?” Sofia watched incredulously as Gabe slipped behind a fake construction wall.
His head poked out, a mischievous grin lighted up his eyes. “Come on in.”
A quick look around assured her no one was watching, so she followed him inside. “What are you doing?”
“Setting up for a concert. You get front row seating, right here.” Gabe patted the seat of one of the two folding chairs he had moved next to each other. His guitar case lay open to one side, and he was plucking the strings of the instrument as he encouraged her to sit.
She couldn’t help but giggle. Her eyes sparkled and a smile spread across her face. “This better be worth sneaking in here.” She quieted as he began to softly strum the instrument. The music was soulful, a mix of modern and country. She watched him as he played. Intense emotion flickered across his face. She couldn’t hold back the tears.
“Are you crying?” he asked.
“No. Yes, but not really. It’s just so beautiful.” She didn’t say it was his face she spoke of. She held her breath as he leaned forward and tenderly kissed away the tears and then, ever so gently kissed her lips. As she responded, he laid the guitar on the chair, took hold of her shoulders and pulled her up into his arms for a very passionate embrace. Her arms instinctively curled around his neck and squeezed tightly.
Reluctantly she released her hold, dropping her arms a little self-consciously, not sure what to say.
“That was wonderful.” He spoke first. “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself. Your tears hurt me so much I just had to make them go away. I don’t ever want to see you crying again. Promise?”
She gave a short laugh, trying to stop crying. “Sure, considering ‘ever’ will be at the end of this flight.”
“Who says?” He turned away and walked to the other side of the room.
She ignored the question. “What are you doing now?”
“Changing locations.”
“Changing locations?” She watched as he picked up a radio from the construction supplies, sat it on top of a ladder and began tuning it. “Where is the new location?”
“It’s a dance club. Dim lights, people laughing and talking and,” he paused as he fiddled with the tuning knob, “sultry jazz.” He had successfully found a jazz station and walked back to her.
She put her hand in his as he held it out for her and pulled her toward him. “I’m not very good at dancing. I have two left feet, as they say.”
“Two beautiful left feet and I’m sure they both work, so come on.”
His gently swaying body felt so natural against hers, she was soon lost in the mood, having totally forgotten she didn’t know how to dance.
The couple talked nonstop, discovering an attraction that few find in life.
“Even though I just found you, I feel like I’ve known you
forever.” He whispered in her ear as he pulled her closer.
“Today was wonderful.” She hesitated. “I wish it could go on forever.”
“You haven’t told me anything about yourself, you know.” He tipped her chin so that he was looking into her face.
“There isn’t much to tell. I grew up in Tulsa, like to read and spend a lot of time in airports.”
“Why so much time in airports?”
“Hey! What are you doing in here? Didn’t you read the signs warning this is a restricted area?” The airport guard came bustling through the partition opening, a scowl on his face and his voice deep with authority as he spoke to Gabe.
“Signs?” asked Sofia. I didn’t see any signs.” She looked at Gabe with genuine surprise. “Did you see signs?”
“Yep. We walked right by them. You were just so into me you didn’t notice,” he teased as he put his guitar back in the case and snapped it shut.
“There are signs. I’m going to have to take you into the airport security office.” The officer had turned from Gabe and was addressing Sofia.
“You’re going to arrest us?” Sofia’s palms were sweating and her breathing was fast. “We’ll miss our flight.” She stared at the officer, but could see Gabe just beyond the man’s shoulder. He had his backpack on, his guitar over his shoulder and was picking up her pack, too. He gave a quick little nod toward the opening in the wall as he started in that direction. He had picked up a piece of scrap lumber and threw it across the long expanse of the room, while sprinting toward the opening, motioning for her to follow him.
Sofia watched as the officer turned at the noise. She immediately ran through the opening, stumbled into Gabe and nearly knocked him down. She laughed so hard she could barely speak. “We’re going to get caught! What do we do now?”
“The restrooms are right over there. Here’s your pack, run. Hide out in there for fifteen minutes and then meet me at the gate.”
Sofia hid in the stall, changed tops, stuffed her jacket in the backpack and checked her cell every few minutes until fifteen minutes had passed. As she walked out of the restroom, the now familiar voice on the intercom announced, “Passengers for the Southwest Airlines flight 1563 may begin boarding at this time.” She made herself walk, not run to the gate. She spied Gabe in line and joined him.
“You made it. Nice move, changing tops. It might have worked, if you’d taken off that bright pink cap.” He reached for the cap and stopped at the look on her face. “What? I just wanted to see your hair.”
Sofia ducked her head. “Yeah, well, I was going to get around to telling you about that.”
“What? Are you bald or something?” He was laughing.
She wasn’t. “Yes.” She pulled the cap to reveal her shaved head. “I am traveling to St. Jude’s.”
“Children’s Cancer research,” he choked.
“I’ve been going there since I was six, hence airports.” She shrugged her shoulders. “My cancer had been in remission for about eleven years, but came back last year with a vengeance.” She averted her eyes. “This is probably my last flight.”
“No,” he whispered, as she kissed the tears from his eyes.
Whispered Beginnings Page 11
