“Rick!”
I look up as a beautiful dark haired woman comes running across the terminal toward me, then go back to reading my paper as I am not the man she seems so excited to see.
“Rick?”
I look up again to find that she is now standing right in front of me.
“Jeez, what a welcome,” she says. “After all this time you’d think you would at least stand up.”
Hypnotized by her stunning green eyes, I do as she asks.
“How about a hug?”
I move awkwardly into her embrace. She smells like honey and rain.
“What’s the matter with you?” she asks, a hesitant smile breaking across her face. She reaches up and brushes away the hair that had fallen over my eyes, and then leans in for a kiss.
I imagine Rick—who is obviously late—moving through the crowd to see his gorgeous…
What?
Was this his wife? Fiance? Girlfriend? Lover?
I would think intimate relationships like these could not possibly lead to such a mistake.
Her tongue forces itself between my teeth. I can taste the mint she must have popped in her mouth before exiting the plane. I have no idea where to put my hands, so I just let them hang there at my sides.
When she realizes I am not going to kiss her back, she pulls away.
“Don’t tell me I flew all this way for you to end this at the airport,” she says.
“No, I—“
You aren’t Rick. Say it you asshole.
“What is it Rick?”
“Of course I’m not ending it.” What exactly is it that I’m doing?
“Then why don’t you seem happy to see me? We’ve been waiting for this chance for months.” Lover. “And now, I’m finally here, and you’re acting like, well, like you don’t even know me.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I laugh. “Let’s go.”
I take her by the hand and lead her toward baggage claim. I had come to Vegas for just this very reason—to meet a woman and have an affair. It hadn’t worked out the way I had hoped. There were hundreds of girls in Vegas, sure. But every time I tried to approach one of them I lost the nerve. Now here was this stunning woman throwing herself at me. Ok, not me. Rick. But still. This was my chance.
“That’s mine, the red one.”
As she bends over to collect her bag, I try not to think of my wife who in a few hours will be leaving our home in Rhode Island to pick me up at T.F. Green International Airport. I try not to think about poor Rick who is here somewhere, probably with a dozen red roses, nervously waiting for…
What is her name?
“Ready?”
I don’t even know this girl’s name.
“Yes,” I say, reaching to take her bag. “Let me get that for you.”
I scan the red Samsonite expandable upright for some sort of name tag.
Julia.
Juila Bunk.
“God, how I’ve missed you Julia,” I breathe as we move toward the exit.
She stops.
“What?”
I turn around to see a quizzical look on her face.
“I said I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you Julia,” she retorts. “You said ‘I’ve missed you Julia.’”
“Yes,” I say, nervously. “Is something wrong?”
“Nothing, except that my name isn’t Julia.”
I feel sweat begin to bead on my forehead. My first instinct is to drop this woman’s bag and run.
“Yes, yes. That’s what I said. Julia. Your name is Julia.”
“No, Julia is my sister’s name.”
Drop the bag. Run away.
“Then why—I mean, right here it says—“
“That’s my sister’s suitcase,” she says, eyeing the name tag I’m now turning over in my fingers. “I’m borrowing it because I needed a bigger one.”
“Evelyn?”
The woman, Evelyn, spins around towards a man that looks a lot like me carrying a dozen red roses.
I’m going to be arrested. After, of course, this guy beats the shit out of me.
Evelyn turns back towards me. A smile slowly creeps across her face.
“Just walk away,” she says, and laughs a little.
“I’m really—“ I start, but she cuts me off.
“Just go.” She turns around and runs into Rick’s arms. I let go of her suitcase and make my way back to the terminal gates. I’ll have to go through security again, but I don’t mind. I can’t stop thinking about how lucky I just got. But then again, it is Vegas.
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