MoltenThought Logo
"An appeaser is one who feeds a crocodile, hoping it will eat him last."
Sir Winston Churchill


Sunday, December 21, 2003

I was sitting in a breakfast diner waiting for the door to open. I'd seen his picture already (a studio-portrait, sort of "Love Connection" cheese -- coat thrown over one shoulder, big smile) and the sound of his voice had infiltrated my consciousness over the last month of hours-long phonecalls. I smiled every time I got one of his emails. Still, I hadn't sat in the same room with him; watched the way he interacted, observed his cues and unconscious mannerisms, grilled him on literature, movies, theology. Things had been progressing quietly, peacefully, but this could be the deal breaker.

I was dressed a little better than normal for a church day; elegant top, my favorite wide-legged, black dress pants, up 'do. I was tired after having sung my guts out in choir, but ready. Hospital and her husband were sitting at a pushed-to table beside me, perusing their menus. I made nervous small talk and tried to keep my eyes off the door. The diner was thick and crowded; the din of syruped forks and knives rose above the coo of sticky babies and clipping waitress talk. I wanted to look at my menu, at the floor, my silverware; I failed.

Hospital's husband, Foodie, talked in regular tones about the quality of fare and the prospect of a good cup of coffee. I smiled, vaguely aware I was being spoken to. Damn that door.

Then, without drumbeat, there he was. Unceremonious: just another guy in a turtleneck walking through a diner on a sleepy December morning. My stomach did not jump. My heart did not leap. I examined him and knew he did not know me. His eyes scanned the crowd, searching for a look of recognition. He looked right at me. And kept walking. He would have passed had I not stopped him.

I said his name in a question. He questioned mine back. He reached to shake my hand. I reached up to hug him. He smiled. Big. And sat down across from me.

I introduced him to Hospital and Foodie, and them to him. We ordered.

He and Foodie talked and Hospital added her portion, I could only nod and pluck two words a piece. I was present but not present. My mind was running, rushing, trying to think, and not to think. I couldn't decide if I liked him immensely or cared nothing for him. His voice bloomed in my ear when he spoke. I had only known it disembodied, coming through the phone. How strange to have it right here with me, a mouth forming syllables, a tongue laughing l's. I suddenly became very bashful. We had talked so long... about so much. To have him here in front of me, a stranger, was too surreal. I couldn't look at him. Couldn't. He attempted to engage me; I could only look at the table. Hospital and Foodie intermediaried.

Then he asked me a direct question. I looked up. Clear green eyes were asking into mine; honest, happy, wise, inquiring. I blushed. "Okay," I said. And after he'd paid for all our breakfasts, we bundled up and walked to the bookstore.

Happy Anniversary to us.


Anonymous karen said...

Happy anniversary to you, WG and Teflon. Thank you for the inside of your heart today. :0).

6:56 PM  
Blogger WordGirl said...

You're welcome, doll! Haven't heard from you in awhile! MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!! Hope you're doing well and all is at peace.

9:40 AM  
Blogger worshipnaked said...

Awww, beautiful.

6:06 PM  

Post a Comment

Links to this post:

Create a Link

<< Home