Love On The Streets

I took the same route every day. I lived in a small apartment, drove an economical, compact car, and worked a secretary job for a software company; only twenty minutes' drive on the freeway, which was situated a few blocks up the street from me.

One Monday morning I pulled out of my complex parking lot onto the busy street and groaned at the pile-up of cars. Road construction. The sign said delays should be expected for the next two weeks. "Great", I grumbled aloud. Heaving a frustrated sigh, I flipped on the radio, searching for something interesting to listen to as I passed the time.

As the three lanes of traffic slowly crawled along at a snail's pace, I began to glance about at other people in their vehicles. I always did amuse myself with people watching and though it's not really an advisable activity while driving, I decided that anything under 5 miles per hour should not be considered driving.

Suddenly I caught sight of him. He was a boyishly handsome guy. Short black hair, olive complexion, hazel eyes. He was driving a nice car. I had no idea the make or model, but it was black and sporty. I laid my head back on the headrest of my seat and looked his car over, admiring its sleek, muscular build. Heaving a dreamy sigh, I continued looking it over until I realized he was looking my direction. I gasped and glanced up at him in horror. He flashed me a stark white grin. I responded with a weak smile and looked away quick, suddenly feeling unworthy to even look in his general direction.

My heart began to pound as I wondered if he was still staring at me. I couldn't bring myself to look. Traffic began to crawl along now and I breathed a sigh of relief as I released my foot from the brake pedal and coasted along, resisting the urge to glance to my left.

But, just as quickly as we began to roll along, we all suddenly halted to a dead stand still once again. Out of my peripheral vision, I could see the black, shiny car pulling up along my left again. I stared straight ahead, biting on my lip, feeling completely humiliated for being caught ogling over a much nicer can than my own.

Suddenly an air of confidence rushed over me and I flipped my hair back and raised my head, reminding myself that the man next to me was a complete stranger, I'd most likely never see him again, and I had absolutely nothing to be ashamed of. In the moment, I jerked my head to the left and glanced in his direction quickly. He was staring right at me. It was like he was waiting for me to look. I froze. Our eyes locked for a few seconds. We just sat there staring, expressionless, as though we were now engaged in a staring contest.

I couldn't take the tension anymore. My face broke into an amused smile. He smiled too then and I could tell he was chuckling. Shaking my head and laughing now too, I turned away from him again and traffic moved on.

Tuesday morning, I pulled out onto the main road. There were slightly fewer cars, so traffic moved along at a slow, but steady pace. "Good," I said aloud. "Maybe some people decided to leave earlier. Thank goodness." I flipped on the radio again and coasted along, enjoying the music. Suddenly the car in front of me hit the brakes. I glanced about quick and realized the morning wasn't going to start out so smooth after all. As I sat periodically heaving the usual frustrated sighs, I caught site of something moving about furiously in my right peripheral vision. I glanced over and there he was - the man in the black, sporty car, waving his arm to get my attention. My jaw dropped in surprise. He responded by throwing his head back and laughing. But just as quickly as he appeared, he disappeared with the commencement of movement in his lane.

Wednesday morning the number of cars on the main road outside of my complex was even more sparse than the day before. I pulled out into a lane and coasted along with a smile on my face. One stoplight before the freeway, I caught a red light. "No big deal," I thought. "I'll take the red light over heavy traffic any day." I flipped through the radio stations, looking for a good "morning commute" tune, then sat back in my seat and gazed around at the other cars. Just as I noticed the lane to my left was empty, the color black filled the space. "NO WAY!" I exclaimed aloud. Sure enough. It was him. Our eyes met and I stared in disbelief, my jaw gaping open. He shrugged his shoulders and laughed, then rolled his passenger window down.

I panicked as I watched the window continue its descent, then gazed up at the man in wonder. He motioned for me to roll my window down. I froze for a second, wondering if this was a good idea. We were still at a red, but it was only a matter of seconds before it would turn. I decided to fulfill his request and rolled my window down.

"Hey!" He shouted.

"Hi!" I shouted back, half laughing.

"Are you following me?" He teased.

"Ummm...no. I believe I was here first, actually." I teased back.

"Do you work out in Phoenix?"

"Yeah. You?"

"Yep."

"Cool."

"Have a great day!" He called out and his car suddenly roared away.

"Wha...?" I checked the light. It was green. The car behind me honked. "I'm going. I'm going." I responded and stepped on the gas.

Thursday morning I saw him drive past me in the next lane over, glancing over at me and waving with a big smile on his face. I shook my head and laughed as I waved back.

Friday morning was overcast. I rolled my windows down and breathed in the air as I drove along, a look of contentment plastered across my face. I love overcast days. And it was a Friday. A bonus, as far as I'm concerned.

As I coasted along, I took note of my gas gauge. I was nearly empty. I quickly assessed the situation and realized I may not make it to work if I didn't stop for gas first. I glanced in my mirrors and quickly darted across the road in order to make that left turn into my last chance for gas before I hit the freeway.

I pulled up to the pump, grabbed my purse and ran in to pay with cash at the register. As I stood in line, I noticed a car pulling up behind mine, but there was no pump for it to pull up to. There were other pumps available, but the car just sat behind mine. Then a man emerged and began to walk toward my car, peering in the windows. I furrowed my brow in concern.

"Ma'am." The lady behind the register called to me.

I snapped out of my fog and stepped up to the counter to pay. "Sorry. I need ten on number 5, please." I handed the cashier my money and then quickly made my way out to my car, wondering what was going on. As I drew closer, I thought the man looked familiar, but being a woman of vanity, I had removed my glasses before entering the store to pay and without them everything was a blur.

"There you are", the man said with a laugh.

I stopped dead in my tracks and squinted at him.

"It's me - your traffic buddy." He laughed again.

I clasped my hand over my chest then. "Oh!" I exclaimed. "Oh, of course. Yeah. Hey!"

He laughed again and I joined him.

"Gosh, you scared me," I said, opening my car door and throwing my purse onto the passenger seat.

"I scared you?" He pretended to be insulted.

"Well...I mean...I can't see very well without my glasses. I left them in my car. I was standing in line in the store wondering why some strange man was approaching my car. I thought maybe I'd done something in traffic to make you mad at me or something."

We both laughed together.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." He gently took the gas nozzle from my hands then. "Let me get that for you."

"Oh, wow! Thanks!" I exclaimed. "You really don't have to. I mean...you probably need to get to work and..." I looked him over as he pumped my gas, completely oblivious to his motives. I was only 20 at the time and, being unaccustomed to attention from the opposite sex, I was always slow to pick up on cues.

He finished pumping then and returned the nozzle to the pump.

"Here," I jumped in, placing the cap back on the tank. "You don't have to do all this. Really."

"Actually, I was hoping I could get your number," he stated, leaning against my car.

My breath caught in my throat. I glanced up at him in horror. "Uh...." My voice suddenly became weak and shaky.

"What's wrong?" He responded in a slightly irritated tone, his smile suddenly vanished.

I looked away and my face turned flush. A wave of guilt flooded over me. I felt like an evil person. Like I had led this poor victim into a trap of some sort, although it was never my intention.

"Why can't you give me your number?" He asked in a softer, gentler tone.

I met his eyes, a look of horror still etched into my face. I tried to speak, but the words caught in my throat. All I could do was shake my head, as I pleaded for forgiveness with my eyes.

"What?" He laughed a breathy laugh. "Are you OK? I'm not a serial killer or anything. I just think you're cute and I feel like we've almost been dating or something". He chuckled aloud then and folded his arms across his chest.

I laughed weakly, exchanging my expression with one of pain.

"I was just interested in getting to know you," he continued, "and thought maybe you'd be interested too, so I..."

"I'm married!" I shouted it in complete exasperation, cutting him off mid sentence.

He jumped away from my car as though it had burned him. His look was hard. His expression was accusing, as though I had betrayed him.

"I - I....I...." I held my left hand up and pointed to my ring-less fourth finger. "I'm married. I'm so....I'm so sorry." I felt horrible. Evil. In reality I was innocent, but I didn't feel innocent. "What have I done?" I thought.

"You're not wearing a ring." He held his hands up then and backed away, as though I were holding a gun to him, threatening his life. "You never...seemed like you were married." He glared at me hard, continuing to back away.

"I'm pregnant." I pointed to my flat belly. It was only my first trimester so I wasn't showing. "My fingers are swollen already. That's why I can't wear my ring."

The man turned and nearly ran back to his car. I turned away and stared blankly at my expression in my car window as I listened to his door slam. The engine roared as he sped out of the station. I glanced about at the other people pumping gas. It seemed they were all staring, taking in the drama. I looked away again in shame and quickly slid into my car, driving away quickly. My heart pounded all the way to work, my flesh stinging with the feel of a thousand needles. I ran the past week's events over and over in my head, trying to determine where I had gone wrong.

That night at dinner, as I sat across from my husband, the man in the black, sporty car invaded my thoughts. I wondered if I should tell my husband. I felt like a bad wife. I felt like a lost soul bound for hell. Perhaps a bit dramatic, but being the young, inexperienced, guilt-ridden woman I was at the time, I really felt as though I had committed some sort of crime against the institution of marriage.

Fifteen years later, this experience continues to haunt me to the point where I will absolutely REFUSE to look in anyone's direction if they honk, wave, or call out to me in traffic.

Revenge Is Not Always Sweet.

Hi. My name is Kristin. I began typing out an e-mail message to a man whose profile had caught my attention on the Internet dating site I was currently a member with. I just read your profile and it looks like we have quite a bit in common. And also I think you're cute.

Call it overly bold, aggressive...whatever you want, but one divorce and three years of Internet dating later, I had settled on blatant honesty as my tactic of choice.

We should go check out some live music together sometime. I know some great venues. I finished and hit send.

Later that night when I checked my e-mail, there was a response. A wave of excitement moved through me as I opened the message.

Hi Kristin. It began. Thanks for the message, but I'm kind of getting tired of girls being all into me just because I'm going to be a doctor. So thanks anyway. Good luck.

"WHAT?!" I nearly shouted.

His career path had nothing to do with it and I was furious over his insinuation that I was nothing more than a money chaser. Little did he know, I had had the chance to marry a doctor a few years earlier; a man I was very much in love with who also happened to be a very wealthy doctor. But after months of praying over the proper way to answer his question "Will you marry me?" the answer always came up "No." I wasn't happy about it and I continued to think it over, deciding I didn't particularly like that answer and I was going to just try and figure it out on my own. But when I finally humbled myself and realized God had a different plan for me, I turned him down and cried myself to sleep for an entire year.

"Wow. What an arrogant..." I stopped mid sentence, deciding against lowering myself. Instead I opted for stating aloud to myself, "And that's why you're single and probably always will be." I clicked the "X" on his profile with satisfaction, removing his image from my screen.

A couple of months later I was invited to a singles party. It took me an entire Saturday to decide if I was actually going to attend as I had no one to attend with and didn't particularly feel comfortable showing up at large parties alone. At the last minute my courage (or perhaps desperation) won over and I found myself entering a house bursting at the seams with people. As I inched my way through the crowd, seeking out someone I knew, I caught sight of him sitting on a couch, a blond girl bouncing up and down next to him, talking in a loud, obnoxious voice and making exaggerated gestures with her hands. He looked bored. I smirked as he glanced about the room, seemingly looking for an out.

The corners of my mouth instantly fell as his eyes locked on mine. I returned his puzzled gaze with a hard stare. That's right, I thought. You know me. I'm the on-line girl you insulted. I could tell by his face that he couldn't quite place where he knew me from. I quickly turned my face from him and continued through the sea of people.

Fortunately we never crossed paths again that night.

A few weeks later, as I sat in church, waiting for the meeting to begin, I glanced about the chapel and noticed a familiar profile. It was him. Again. I heaved a frustrated sigh and thought, What's HE doing here? Then I realized a return missionary was speaking and there was an entire group of unfamiliar faces seated near a family I knew from the ward. I gasped slightly and my heart pounded. Oh no. Is he their SON? I thought in horror, looking back and forth between him and the older couple he sat with, trying to match the features. Oh, please no.

It was difficult to concentrate on the speaker. The words of his e-mail continued to run through my mind and I allowed my anger and pride to get the best of me. Feeling a little flushed and in need of some air, I quietly exited through a back door and stepped into the hall, drawing in a deep breath of relief. As I circled around the building to where the drinking fountain was located, I nearly bumped into someone rounding the corner from the other direction.

"Whoa. Hi." The man chuckled.

I gasped and my voice caught in my throat. It was HIM! I could feel my eyes widen in horror. "Hi." I answered shortly and continued on.

"Hey, wait a minute. I think I know you." He said in amusement.

This only infuriated me more.

"Oh, really?" I responded, my flushed face betraying my emotion. "Oh yeah", I drawled, pointing a finger at him. "I saw you at a party, I think."

"Yeah, but I've seen you somewhere else." His brow furrowed and he began rubbing his chin, gazing into my eyes. I could almost see the wheels in his head turning.

Don't remember. Don't remember. I repeated over and over in my head.

"Hey, are you on LDSSO?" He gasped, seemingly making the connection. (LDSSO was the singles site we had communicated through).

I closed my eyes in defeat and heaved a sigh. "Yeah. I WAS on there. I actually sent you a message and you told me you weren't interested. But, anyway. No big deal. Good to see you again. Take care." I spit the words out as fast as I could and turned abruptly, hoping to get away from him as quickly as possible.

"Wait!" He called out.

I froze and shut my eyes tight, heaving another sigh.

"I remember that." He continued. "I know who you are now."

I turned toward him, a grimace on my face.

"I'm so sorry about that. That was...just stupid. I was just upset about something else that night and I totally took it out on you."

I could feel my expression softening. "It's ok. No big deal." As my pulse slowed, I decided to take the opportunity to ask him why he was here.

"Oh, that's my younger brother speaking today." He replied.

"Oh. Ok. That's what I thought. I can see the resemblance." I gave an exaggerated nod.

We stood in awkward silence a few seconds.

"So..." I began, hoping to excuse myself to the bathroom - just to get away.

"Well..." He cut in at the same time.

We both laughed nervously.

"Sorry", he started in again. "I was just gonna' say maybe we could try this again. Do you want to go to dinner sometime?"

I sucked in a quick breath and contorted my face to resemble a pained expression. "I'm actually...engaged." I hesitated before looking into his eyes.

He scoffed and chuckled. "I deserve that."

"I really am." I said, looking him straight in the eye this time.

"Oh really? Where's your ring?" He teased and then folded his arms across his chest, waiting for my answer.

I heaved a sigh and glanced heavenward, trying to determine if I should even get into the whole story of how my fiance and I had not even met in person yet, so there was never an opportunity for me to receive a ring at this point. "It's being sized." I lied.

He nodded his head. "Where is he?" He pressed.

"Who?" I asked.

"Your...fiance?"

"In Utah." I replied without hesitation.

"Ahhh...ok. So...you met him on-line too?"

"Yep." I replied.

"Cool. That's cool. So when's the big day?"

"Ummm....December....ni...nth?" I drew it out in hesitation, making it sound more like a question. Truthfully, that was the day my fiance would fly in town and that's the day we would meet in person and that was hopefully the day we would be married, but that was yet to be determined based upon our meeting. But again, I wasn't in the mood to defend myself against the barrage of questions that usually accompanied my honest answers.

He threw his head back and laughed in response. "Uh huh." He said in a patronizing tone. "Well, good luck with that." And with that he turned and sauntered off.

I couldn't help but scowl at the back of his head as he walked away.

And now this brings me to the present day and most likely the end of this tale.

This morning in the grocery store as I picked over the apples, I saw a man dressed in scrubs approach me and join me. Our arms brushed against each other at one point and I glanced over quick and said, "Sorry" before I scooted a little farther away.

"Hey, I know you." I heard him say.

I stopped what I was doing and glanced over at him again, this time looking at his face. A grimace spread across my face as I suddenly recognized him too.

"Looks like you've got some little ones helping you out there." He nodded towards the two children I had with me.

"Yep." I replied.

"They're cute."

"Thanks." I replied with a smile. "I've got two more just like 'em at home."

His jaw dropped. "Four?!" He nearly shouted in disbelief.

"Yep." I laughed and tied up my bag of apples.

He didn't say anything more so I glanced up at him quick. I could almost see those wheels turning again. I figured he was trying to do the math on how many years I had been married versus how many children I had.

"So, what - did you have twins or something? Or maybe triplets?" He laughed.

"Nope." I replied with a laugh. "I have an almost 14-year-old, a 4 1/2-year-old...." I stopped when his face betrayed his complete shock. "I had a son from my previous marriage." I explained.

"Oh." His eyebrows raised in surprise. "I didn't realize."

"Yeah, well...if you wouldn't have been so quick to tell me off and get rid of me all those years ago, you would have known." I teased, hoping he would take it well.

He hung his head in mock embarrassment and laughed. "Yeah. So...I guess you really WERE engaged, then, huh?"

I pretended to be insulted. "Did you really think I was lying about that?"

He chuckled. "Yeah. Actually, I did."

We both giggled nervously.

"So, what does your husband do?" He asked.

I took in a deep breath and proudly stated, "He's a pool man." Words could not describe how happy I was to report that. "I guess I wasn't after money AFTER all!" I just had to throw it in there.

He grimaced and nodded, looking away.

"So what about you?" I asked, making it obvious I was trying to get a good look at his ring finger.

He quickly hid his hand behind his basket. "Oh, no. I'm still single."

I nodded as if I already suspected that to be the case.

"For now." He added.

"Ah, for now. So, you're seeing someone then." I replied.

"Well....no..." He chuckled nervously. "Not exactly."

I looked into his eyes and saw pain.

"Well, I'm sure that's by choice." I stated, hoping to alleviate some of the discomfort he seemed to be feeling.

"What's THAT supposed to mean." He sounded offended, but played it off like he was joking.

This was NOT going according to my plan. Not that I harbored any ill feelings toward the poor man, especially not after all these years. I got what I wanted, a husband/drummer for my band, more children. But I was hoping for a little more satisfaction than this. Now I felt like the jerk.

I looked him right in the eye and said in a very serious tone, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything by it. I seriously didn't. I was just...assuming that....I mean, you're a DOCTOR and a nice looking one at that. I'm sure if you're not dating it's because YOU'RE not interested and it's YOUR choice. I'm sure you could have any number of girls."

"Yeah, well. I'm kind of taking a break from that right now." I could hear the edge in his voice.

I looked at him with concern and waited for him to look up at me again. "I'm sorry." I said sincerely.

Seeing that I'd given the poor guy enough of a hard time, I backed away with my cart and said, "Well, I'm gonna' let you go. I'm sure you're very busy and I think I've harassed you enough. But it was really nice seeing you and I wish you the best."

"Yeah. Thanks. Good luck to you too." He said, not sounding too cheery.

Poor guy. Now I just feel bad. I was kind of hoping for some type of verbal joust where I'd get the ultimate stab in the end and walk away feeling proud of myself. That's usually the fantasy I envision when I encounter a guy from my past who hurt me in some way.

Oh well...I really do wish him the best.

And since he and I seem to cross paths every now and then, I sincerely hope the next time I see him he's happily married or at least...engaged.

The Story Behind The Shirt

"You keep to mess up. I write down what I want and you get date wrong. Over and over I tell you. You get date wrong." The drone of his accent buzzed around my head. I put on my usual somber expression for these particular occasions and nodded robotically.

This particular client was always yelling at me. He was sure the mistakes in the work were mine and though I continually explained that I was simply using the date he had written on the little scrap of paper he included with the dictation, we couldn't see eye to eye. He was unhappy with the medical reports I was typing for him because...well...that dang date was always wrong.

But his reprimands, his angry, crooked, brown finger shaking in my face, his veiled wife pacing back and forth behind him, occasionally stopping to fold her arms across her chest and scowl at me in agreement didn't even phase me today.

All I could think was, "I'm getting married in a few hours." They had no idea. Not that it would have changed anything. He was always right and I was always wrong and we just had to agree to disagree.

"I'm very sorry, Dr. _______. I guess I misunderstood. I thought you wanted me to use the date you had written on the piece of paper you included with the tape. I will call your office next time and double check that." This conversation was becoming tired. It was the same thing every time. I guess I just didn't know what he wanted.

And to be honest, at that moment, I just plain didn't care anymore. "Just fire me", was what I really wanted to say. I shook his hand, it was his usual dead fish grip. Ugh. And with that, I gathered up the work and scurried from the office, throwing a quick wave and plastic smile to his staff before escaping.

As I drove the short distance home, I wondered if the package I was expecting had arrived yet. It wasn't absolutely necessary for the day's events, but I thought it would be fun and this was the only time I felt it would be appropriate, really. Within minutes I was screeching into my garage, throwing the door open and jogging to my mail box. I fumbled wildly with my keys, dropping them a couple of times before I managed to open the box.

But alas, my heart sank and I heaved a sigh as I discovered only a few regular letter-sized envelopes. "Oh well. It would have been cute, but..." My words trailed off and I moped back to my condo.

I entered my kitchen, took note of the time and realized I had only one hour to prepare and then the moment I had been waiting one month for would finally arrive - the moment I was to meet my fiance in person and decide if I should really marry him.

I ran to my bedroom, threw open the closet doors and frantically rummaged through my clothing, trying to find something else to wear since my original plan had apparently fallen through. I ripped my blouse off and began pulling shirt after shirt over my head and checking my appearance in the mirror, briefly playing with my hair, fluffing it out, pulling it on top of my head and turning to view my appearance from different angles.

I heaved a frustrated sigh and ripped my shirt off again.

"DING DONG!" I jumped and gasped at the sound of my doorbell. Who could that be? Not now! I didn't have time for interruptions. I quickly scanned the room for something to throw on quick to answer the door. I pulled my bathrobe on quick and ran to the door just as the doorbell rang again.

"Coming!" I called out. I threw the door open and there stood my neighbor from across the way. He was a tall, gaunt man, usually seen pacing in front of his door, taking drags off his cigarette, looking for someone to visit with. He lived alone. And he knew I lived alone and was home all day - just like him, which usually prompted him to stop in for a visit. I ignored his persistent knocking most of the time, excusing myself later when our paths crossed by telling a tale of how I must have been showering or napping or something.

"Hey. I can't visit right now. I've got to be somewhere in like thirty minutes," I spit out before he had a chance to speak.

"Oh", he stepped back. "Well, I don't mean to bother you..."

"It's OK." I cut him off impatiently. "No problem. I'll talk to you later, K?"

Just as I reached for my door to shut it in his face he pulled a package out from behind his back. "I believe this is yours."

I gasped. "Oh! This is it! It came!" I squealed in delight.

A huge grin spread across his face. "Oh good. I like seeing you happy."

I immediately stopped jumping up and down like a school girl and smiling weakly, calmly took the package from his hands. "Thanks. I really appreciate you dropping this by. But I've really got to go."

"Got a date?" He asked, looking me up and down.

"Kind of", I chuckled. "OK. Well, see ya' later."

In my effort to be courteous in the midst of my anxiety, I let him take a couple of steps away from my door before I gently closed it and slowly locked it. And then bolted like a mad woman toward my room, ripping the package to shreds to get to it.

The shirt.

My extremely conventional courtship and marriage at the age of 19, which ended in an ugly divorce at the age of 21, opened my eyes to a whole new, unconventional way of doing things. And so I gently lifted the shirt from its shredded package and held it up in the light, admiring the sparkly lettering, which read, "Mrs. Coppee." Perhaps a bit premature, but after weeks of prayer and meditation, I was pretty confident in my decision to marry Bertrand Coppee. I only hoped he was as confident.

Soon it was time to go. My stomach back-flipped and my heart began pounding wildly out of my chest. This was it - the moment of truth.

Though Bertrand and I had spoken of marriage and had mutually decided it was the right thing to do, we still left the absolutely final decision open. "If we see each other and we don't feel right suddenly, even if it's just one of us, we won't go through with it. I'll put you up at my parents' home and we'll just spend the weekend together, hanging out and talking and go from there." Those were the words of reassurance I gave us both at the close of our final conversation before the meeting.

I drove to the airport, my hands gripping the steering wheel so tight, my knuckles were white. So many thoughts were flooding my mind. I was excited and nervous and just couldn't wait to finally see him in person and see how I felt. I suddenly worried that we might not feel the same way and I'd either be hurt or have to do the hurting. I silently prayed in my head that we'd at least have the same feeling either way.

I finally arrived and found a parking space as close to the doors as I could. I turned off my car and laid my head back, taking a few deep breaths in an attempt to calm myself a little. I grabbed the paper from my purse, noting Bertrand's flight information and made my way into the airport terminal.

As I made my trek to the gate number for his flight, my legs became a little wobbly. I pushed through the crowd and walked close to the wall in case I needed a little help steadying myself. I found the gate number and fumbled with the paper in my hands, double checking the number, already second-guessing myself.

Just then the passengers from the plane began to emerge through the double doors. I scanned the first crowd coming through. One man in particular kind of looked like Bertrand, so I fixed my eyes on him, studying his face. Though I had seen his pictures many times on-line, he looked so different in all of them that I once asked him, "So, which one of these do you really look like? You're so different in all of them." He laughed and said, "They're all me. They're all recent. I don't know what you mean. I think YOU look different in all of YOUR pictures."

The man I was fixated on made eye contact with me and looked away. I sighed and looked back at the double doors. I nervously chewed on my bottom lip as I continued to scan the people, looking for his face. Person after person filed through the doors. Several minutes passed and the number of passengers began to diminish. Still I had not found him. I heaved a frustrated sigh then and leaned against a pole, folding my arms across my chest and furrowing my brow. The situation was looking grim. A few seconds passed now before one or two people would come through, but nobody resembling my fiance.

And then the people around me cleared and all became silent. I cocked my head to the side and sighed again, looking around to see if any man was standing off to the side, looking for me. There was no one. One of the airport personnel shut the doors then and locked them. My expression turned to one of disbelief. Suddenly I felt so alone. So sad. I felt my shoulders slump. I fell back against the pole again and stared at the ground. My mind began to race with so many thoughts.

"Maybe he decided he didn't want to come after all."

"But he sounded so happy and excited on the phone last night. He didn't indicate any second thoughts."

"Now what?"

"I wonder if he's left a message at home for me or something."

"I don't know that I want to talk to him anymore."

"I feel so stupid."

"I bet he never had any intention of marrying me."

I pulled my cell phone from my purse and checked it. No messages. No missed calls. My head was spinning. I felt so lost.

"Oh well", I sighed aloud. I slowly turned and began walking back toward the elevators to the parking garage. I could feel tears welling up in my eyes. I looked heavenward and took a deep breath, fighting them back. I glanced around and saw a few people staring at me. I felt even more stupid. I just wanted to run home, climb into bed and never come out again.

Just as I reached the elevator lobby, an announcement came over the loud speakers. I could hear a voice speaking, but I tuned it out.

And then suddenly I heard my name. I jerked my head up and began turning around, looking toward the ceiling for the speakers. There was so much noise. I staggered out to the middle of the main hall, still turning about, searching the ceiling for the sound.

"This message is for Kristin Poulsen. Please pick up a white paging phone. Kristin Poulsen please pick up a white paging phone."

"What's going on?" I mumbled, snapping out of my fog-like state. I looked both ways and chose to go to the left, searching for a white paging phone. I picked it up and looked at it for a second, trying to figure out how it worked.

"Hello. How can I help you?" I heard a voice say through the receiver.

"H-hi. Umm...I think you - I think you called my name." I stammered.

"Kristin Poulsen?" The voice asked.

"Yeah?" I responded.

"There's a Bert-i-nand Co-PEE (his name is pronounced Ber-TRON Co-PAY) looking for you." The woman stumbled over his name.

I gasped. "He's here? Where is he?"

"He's waiting for you at the west end information desk", the voice replied.

"I don't know where that is", I panted in desperation. "I don't even know where I am right now. I mean, I know I'm in the airport, but I don't even know what part. I have no idea which end is east and which end is west and..."

The woman interrupted, "OK, ma'am, just calm down. I can talk you through it."

I heaved a sigh of relief and listened intently to her instructions. Then I slammed the phone down and began walking as fast as I could toward the location. "He's here! He's really here!" I repeated over and over in my head. My pace increased and I panted, trying to hold back my elation. There were people sitting and standing all along the walls of the long hallway. I felt like they were all staring at me. Like they all knew what was about to happen and they wanted to see the outcome. I was excited, but a bit anxious too. Of course, these people were all complete strangers and had no idea why I was there or where I was going. I looked away from their stares and squinted my eyes as I approached the west end of the terminal, trying to see if I could spot Bertrand.

As I closed in on the information desk, I spotted the back of a man in a dark suit. He seemed to fit the description, so I continued to scan him up and down, hoping he would turn a bit, so I could see part of his face. Just then he slowly turned, caught sight of me and grinned. The anxiety in my expression melted into a relieved smile. Though I was very close to him at this point, my pace didn't slow and I ran right into him, our hands clasping together. We gazed into each other's eyes and both said, "Hi" in a dreamy voice. Then we grabbed each other in a hug and held each other a few minutes.

Though this was our first meeting, it felt like I had known him forever - that I had already met him before. After a few minutes, we pulled away from each other and looked into each other's eyes again, giggling now like a couple of children.

"I'm so glad you're here," he said, studying my face.

"I'm so glad YOU'RE here." I responded with a giggle. "I went to your gate and watched everyone get off the plane and I never saw you. I thought maybe you had changed your mind."

"Well, I'm here," he teased.

"I know," I panted in an exasperated tone. "I'm glad I heard the speaker paging me. I almost left because I thought you weren't here. Your flight must have come in early."

"It did. But I thought you would be here already. I've been walking the airport looking for you. I thought maybe YOU had changed your mind." He chuckled.

"Oh my gosh!" I said, grabbing him in a hug again.

When I pulled away again, he was gazing into my eyes and smiling. And then he slowly leaned in and kissed me. As I kissed him back, I noticed we fit together perfectly. I loved the way he kissed. It just confirmed what I had already felt - that this was meant to be.

I backed away and gazed up at him with a questioning look. "So...."

"So....." he mimicked.

"Are we getting married, then, or what?" I felt my cheeks burn and I laughed nervously.

"I don't know. Are we?" He teased.

"I feel good about it." I responded.

"Good. Me too." He hugged me again for a few moments and then grabbed my hand and said, "Well, lead the way."

And so I did, to the parking garage, to my car, and to my home - soon to be our home.

...to be continued...