Missed Connections...

His flight had been cancelled. No warning. No delays giving you false hope. Just cancelled. So he sat at the airport bar trying to decide his next step. He was a frequent flier and as such had been assured they would take care of the situation and let him know what flight they could get him on. No long lines at customer service counters for him. At least he had that going for him. But he was still stuck in an airport with no flight home after a week away.

He knew the route well enough to know that he was most likely stuck here until tomorrow. Should he wait and collect a voucher for whatever hotel partner the airline was working with and stay in their crappiest room or book a room downtown and pretend that he meant to stay an extra day. Maybe go out for a nice steak dinner, see a movie no one at home was interested in? These are the things he liked to tell himself he could do. But he knew himself well enough to know that he would sit at this bar drinking until the airline came back to him with a plan and a hotel room. He had been traveling for work for decades now and the thrill of a night on the town was no longer there.

He signaled to the bartender for another round and checked his phone for the 30th time. No missed calls. He sent another text to his wife letting her know that he had no news but probably wouldn't be home until tomorrow. He was sorry he was going to be late. He knew she wouldn't mind. Or at least wouldn't say that she minded. He had been traveling for their entire marriage. This was not their first cancelled flight.

Maybe it was best he wasn't going to make it home today. He wasn't quite himself today. He had had a dream last night that was still holding him hostage. She had been in it. Or around it. Involved in it. He had heard her laugh. That's what did it. He had been dreaming about...something. He couldn't even remember the original dream and he heard her laugh. That high, clear, strong, laugh. He had turned around in his dream expecting to see her there and nothing. There had been a door so he was sure she must have just left. He had spent what seemed like hours wandering through rooms, and jungles, and movie theaters, and beaches, and restaurants looking for her. One place leading to another to another. He never found her but it felt like she had just been there. If he walked faster he could catch her. But all he ever found was the echo of her laughter.

He woke up tangled in the sheets. He must have been thrashing around in his sleep as he chased her laugh from place to place. He felt hollow. Missing a piece. Which was crazy considering he hadn't even thought of her in years. Not really. Maybe once or twice but never for long. Once on vacation his wife had given him a bite of Key Lime Pie that was incredibly sour. He told her, "That makes my teeth itch!" She had laughed at the expression. And for a minute he was confused, wasn't it her that had first said it? No, it wasn't his wife. It was someone else. But he didn't think of her often. And not for long.

The bartender finally brought him his drink. As he reached out for it he heard her laugh again. He turned slowly, part of his mind trying to work out if he had been sleeping all along. One of those weird dreams where you dream you woke up, but then you didn't. But no, he was awake. And she was laughing. He turned and saw her eyes. Her eyes were like the green of trees. Not the pale green that green eyes sometimes are or gold green or even the really those are hazel,who are you kidding green that people tried. But green, like a forest. So green they didn't seem real. In fact people usually thought she was wearing colored contacts, but they were really that green. And they were staring at him now. Puzzled.

"Yes?"

He continued to stare. These were her eyes looking at him. But this was not her face. But he had heard her laugh.So it was her. But it wasn't.

"I'm sorry." he stammered, "I'm staring. You just look very familiar."

She gave him a half smile and he realized how lame he sounded. An old man at the bar trying to pick up on the younger woman.

"You have very green eyes."

He realized this was not making it any better.

"I'm sorry. I'll leave you alone. I just thought..." he trailed off. How could he explain what he thought.

She smiled again. A little smile, a smile of reassurance maybe. Or of nervousness.

The bartender came to his rescue, taking the attention off of him. "What can I get you?"

"We just need our check." she motioned to a table filled with young men and women all laughing and drinking,"I think we might have scared our waitress off."

The bartender laughed and she laughed with him.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up.

"Look, I know that this is going to sound weird, but did you stay at the Commodore last night?"

She took a step away from him and gave him a concerned look, "Why do you want to know where I stayed last night?"

"I know, it seems like I'm being creepy and odd and...it's just I think I heard your laugh earlier and..."

She relaxed a touch and laughed again, "Oh gosh! I am so sorry! Did we keep you up? I've been told that I have a laugh that can cut through concrete! I don't know why it carries like that, I don't think I'm being too loud but, Oh my gosh I am so embarrassed!"

"No, no, please don't be. It's a wonderful laugh. I just..."

She shook her head, "I got it from my mother. She laughed..." and with that her green eyes clouded and she shook her head, "I'm sorry. I just. I'm sorry I bothered you last night. Good news is that we are on our way out of town and you should get a good night's sleep tonight!"

He was struck still for a moment. Everything after "laughed" had faded in to a low buzz. He looked up at the young woman's face again, "Laughed? You said you mother laughed? Does she not laugh anymore?" He realized as it was out of his mouth that it was incredibly rude to ask like that.

She shook her head again, "My mother died last year. That's actually why we are all taking this trip. They think it will keep me from spending the anniversary wallowing. Which she wouldn't have wanted. So we are going to go lay on the beach and drink more than we should and eat Key Lime Pie so sour..."

"...it will make your teeth itch." He finished.

She cocked her head to the side, "That's just what my mother would have said."

He nodded then turned to the bartender, "I've got their tab."

"Oh no! I couldn't possibly let you..."

"No, you can. I insist. Indulge me. Go catch your flight and enjoy your trip. And, you know what? If you want to wallow, you go right ahead and wallow as well, but I think they are right. She would want you to laugh more than cry."

She smiled again, "Thank you. I...well...just thank you."

She joined her table and he watched her explaining their good fortune to her friends. They all looked at him and smiled and waved. He waved back. Remembering a trip to the beach to drink more than he should have and eat Key Lime Pie and stare in to impossibly green eyes doing everything he could to make her laugh. But he didn't think of her often. And not for very long...