First Flight

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As the plane was nearing cruising altitude, it hit an air pocket or some such thing and took a 'hop'. My hand gripped the armrest like a vise and I furiously chewed the wad of gum in my mouth; it had lost all of its flavor almost an hour before.

"It's okay, miss. You don't have to worry." The voice on my right spoke softly. I turned to see the most beautiful blue green eyes I had ever beheld. He was staring at my hand.

"They really know what they're doing, and I think it will be okay." His voice was so reassuring that it disarmed my nervousness completely.

"Is this your first time flying?" At any other time it might have almost seemed like a pick-up line. Not that I'd gotten many of those. At one time I might have been the one saying it, as a matter of fact. But now, flying back across an entire continent, I was never more unsure about who and what I was than at that moment. His eyes seemed to follow me like one of those paintings and I knew he wasn't being rude, which broke down my defenses even more.

"You're very pretty." Oh dear god in heaven he didn't say that? Me? Maybe 'not ugly' was a better term for it, but no other words ever spoken would match the healing of that little phrase. I began to cry.

"I'm sorry you're sad," said so simply, but with such power. After months on my own, I was looking forward to being home. I had the surgery all by myself; real life interruptions prevented any of my friends from joining me in Montreal, and my family would have died before endorsing my decision with their presence.

"You can have this, if you like." He handed me his handkerchief, which he produced from the breast pocket of his jacket. Such a simple bequest, but so warm and strengthening. I took his gift and wiped the tears from my eyes.

"I'm glad to meet you. My name is James. James Montalbano. I'm traveling with my mother to my grandmother's funeral."

For the first time since coming out of recovery only days before, I actually offered my hand in greeting as myself.

"Judith...Judith Martin." He shook my hand gently and then did something I have only dreamed about. He kissed my hand softly and said, "Pleased to make your acquaintance." I struggled with my tears, but it was a losing battle. My shoulders began to shake enough that the attendant came over.

"Are you okay? Can I get you something?" I smiled and shook my head no. She nodded and went back up the aisle.

"May I ask you a question?" He had been perfect up to that point, and while I felt vulnerable, it was just too hard to refuse. I nodded. He smiled before turning to his right and looking across the aisle at his mother, who was looking on with interest. What a lovely family. He took a deep breath and said finally,

"When I grow up, can I marry you?"

"Jimmy," his mother interrupted, "What did we just talk about?" Her voice and smile belied any correction.

"Oh...yes. Miss Martin? When I grow up, MAY I marry you?" He smiled at me with his eleven-or-so-year-old eyes.

"Yes, Jimmy...you certainly may."



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Comments

Thank you 'Drea,

ALISON

'a sweet story with a very sneaky twist at the end.Very naughty of you,but very nice.

ALISON

That Was Wonderful

littlerocksilver's picture

The eyes of the young often see beyond the superficial. I remember a story in Readers' Digest maybe 40-50 years ago. (I should probably take it with a grain of salt, considering the source.) A young man was visiting his parents and there was an opportunity to visit his elementary school where his favorite teacher was still teaching. He was happy to see her and they had a great time talking about the past. He was horrified though, to see that her face was terribly scarred by a burn or some other injury. "That's a horrible scar," he said when they left. "I wonder when she was hurt and how it happened." "She's always had that scar," his mother replied.

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Portia

Portia

great

as usual great little vignette of life. love your work, drea. keep up the goood work.
robert

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"Yes, Jimmy...you certainly may."

here I thought you were going in a totally different direction when you pop a wheelie on me. Wonderful.

Dorothycolleen

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subject problem

kristina l s's picture

yep, I'm having trouble with the subject title. I mean...comically romantic, red herring romance, subtly set up, weepy laughs... shrug, I dunno. But I think that it wuz luverly with a brill closer.

Kristina

I Howled.

You got me suspicious at one point, but I said No. It couldn't be... Then things sounded wrong... But then, there at the end BANG.

Thank you,
Anne

Truly a Gentleman

RAMI

James (Jimmy makes him to be a kid) is truly a gentleman at age 11. Perhaps more of a gentleman, then many older males portrayed in many story here at BCTS. His mother and father obviously raised him well.

RAMI

RAMI

Really Sneaky

joannebarbarella's picture

You had me going! What a cunning stunt.

Lovely typical Kween of Kleenex story. But then......

Joanne

short and so sweet

well done and well done indeed. Kids have a way of seeing right thru us.

Thanks BC....hope I got it right this time...lol

Why?

joannebarbarella's picture

Why didn't you enter this for the Summer Romance contest?

It would stand up to the competition,

Joanne