Date: Thu, 14 Mar 2002 15:01:07 EST From: JimAcrew@aol.com Subject: We Were Meant to Be We Were Meant to Be By J.Crew March 14, 2002 This is my first time writing and all the usual stuff applies. You shouldn't be here unless you're legal and know what you're doing. Of course I won't know, and certainly won't tell whether you are, or whether you should be here. This story is about two people who find each other and fall hopelessly in love. Oh, did I mention the two people are both male? Well they are, as a matter of fact one is only a teenager, and the other is older. But you'll have to read the story to find out all about them. ************************************** I hate airports. I hate being in crowded places. I just figured out last week, that I hate most people. I found myself standing in line waiting for a security check of my identification, and now the most recent change, is the new check of my baggage. God, how I dread the thought someone else looking through my clothes. Especially my underwear! It's the third time this week I've been in such a line and it's only Wednesday. It didn't used to be like this; I used to roll up to the curb in a cab, check my bags with the attendant at the sidewalk, and leisurely stroll to the boarding gate. Not anymore, not since September 11, 2001, not in America. I waited patiently in the line, as patient as I could be. A woman with two screaming kids and a teenage boy was ahead of me. She stood about six feet tall, and had broader shoulders than I did. Her hair was dark red, obviously out of a packet, because it had shades of maroon in it. She wore it up on her head, her bangs hung down onto her forehead. I caught her out of the corner of my eye more than once, pushing her bottom lip out and beyond her top one while heavily exhaling and blowing her bangs up off her face. I could tell she was exhausted. I thought back to my married days. The days of Shelly and Jarrod, which seemed so long ago. We were only married a few years. Two years, three months, and twenty-nine days, but hey, who was counting? I never paid attention when we were together, but in the last six months I have relived every moment. We had been divorced going on eight months now; next month would have been our third anniversary. I didn't really understand what happened to us; the first two months I was too shocked to think. I had a great job with World Construction Corporation, and always thought a great profession meant a great marriage. I never knew how unhappy Shelly was, until she told me she wanted a divorce. At first I hoped it was a phase and brushed it off. But when the court papers showed up at the office one day, I knew our days together would soon be ending. The first month or so after I had been served the divorce papers, I went into a deep depression. I felt like a total failure. To compensate for my long periods of feeling withdrawn, I threw myself into work. I also found new living accommodations, away from Shelly. I managed to find a nice two-bedroom condo fairly cheap, just outside of East Longmeadow, in Springfield. At first I didn't even furnish the place, hell I barely stayed there, but to sleep. About six months after I had been served, the divorce was final. It all happened quickly, as I didn't fight her. I just wanted to move on with my life. I guess at some point along the way it dawned on me that I never really loved her. I was just comfortable being married, and having someone to come home to every night after work, or being there when I came home from one of my many business trips out of town. I adapted myself quickly to being alone. That is, if you call almost two months of crying myself to sleep every night quick? "Good morning Mr. Turner," came the sweet voice of the nice looking blonde, in the blue airline uniform, looking at my ticket and drivers license. I looked into her sparkling blue eyes and wondered how she could be so cheery at 7:00AM. There should be a law against such assaults on a weary businessman, I rationalized to myself as I took my papers back and put them into my sports coat pocket. I nodded my head in her direction, but didn't smile. "You know Kip, it sure would be nice if you'd help me out a little." The buxom red head still ahead of me as I walked to the boarding gate, yelled to the teenage boy with her. For some reason I found myself drawn to the boy and his good looks. His hair was jet black and slightly wavy. He kept it off his ears and collar, and neatly combed. His body movements fascinated me, while they weren't exactly feminine they had a little hint of it. I was taken aback by his dark eyes that were set wide and deep on his face. He had a broad and flattened nose that gave him a baby face look of sorts. He had a darker complexion than the woman he was with, so I wondered if it was his mother or not. He caught me staring at him and smiled as we were trudging our way through the loading platform to the plane. I wondered if they were from Massachusetts or Connecticut. It would be easy to be from either place, as Bradley International was the only airport around. Unless you traveled to Boston, or New York City, both eighty miles or so away, in the opposite directions. I smiled back at him, and kept my own brown eyes locked on his for a second or so. I watched as he took one of the smaller children's hand into his own. I noticed him, as he took great care of the child. I could hear his voice as he softly spoke to the toddler in an attempt to occupy the child's mind. I tried to guess his age, I imagined him to be about sixteen or so. I thought back to when I was sixteen; I certainly didn't have the patience this kid had with children. As we boarded the plane, a steward checked our tickets and pointed us to our seats. I was surprised when I heard the thirty-some year old, man in the blue suit, tell the red head, Kip, and the kids, that they were flying first class. I knew the flight was short, but I had hoped I'd be able to get some sleep. My sleep prospects quickly dimmed, as I thought about the two youngsters bouncing all around in the first class cabin. I made a mental note to tell Millie, my secretary, from now on when she booked my flights to make sure no children would be near me. I had a window seat, I took it, and pulled the shade down over the window, then reclined its back, and stretched my legs out while leaning back into it. I'm only five feet nine, so I had plenty of headroom. I closed my eyes, then decided to wear my headphones. I figured I could listen to the music provided by the airline, and not have to hear these little rug rats. I reached for the headset and put it over my head, as I sat back into my seat, Kip sat in the aisle seat right next to me. I shifted my body around a little to become more comfortable and to make sure I didn't crowd him at all. I know when I sleep sometimes I thrash about, I was worried I may hit him or something while I slept. I glanced his way and caught him staring at me. I don't know why, but I felt flattered to have him looking at me. I smiled at him, he smiled back. I nodded my head and leaned back into the seat again, closing my eyes while drifting away to the music being piped into my ears. I was soon fast asleep. "Excuse me Mr. Turner. Mr. Turner." I heard the strange, nasally, sounding male voice calling me; I opened my eyes and saw the steward standing in the aisle. I was all groggy from my sleep. I sat up in the seat and looked around trying to focus. Had we landed already I wondered? "I wondered if you'd like a pillow Mr. Turner?" "Yes, please." I couldn't believe he woke me up to ask me if I needed a pillow. "Would you like ham or bacon with your eggs this morning, Mr. Turner? Orange, tomato, or grapefruit juice? "Ham, and orange juice will be fine." I watched the thirty something year old steward as he walked back into coach; I shook my head in disbelief. If he wasn't older than me, I might have been curt, but I had been taught to respect my elders. I found it annoying to be woken and asked if I wanted a pillow. I also felt that if I wanted breakfast I'd have stayed awake. I mean it wasn't like the flight was going to be that long. "Hi, my name's Kip." The teenage boy said, as he offered me his hand. "Hey Kip, I'm Jarrod, it's a pleasure to meet you." "We're from Springfield, we're on our way to the children's hospital in Philadelphia. My two younger cousins have a rare form of leukemia; we're taking them for some experimental treatment." "I'm sorry to hear that. You're a very brave boy Kip." "Not really, my Aunt Cathy is the brave one. Her husband left her because he couldn't deal with the kid's illness, she's had to deal with this all by herself. Where are you from?" "I'm from Springfield too, I live in the Forest Park section," I told him. "Us too. How long you going to be in Philadelphia?" "I'm only going to be there until Friday, I'm on business. What street do you live on?" "Belmont, in the apartments. We're only going to be in Philly until Friday too, what time is your flight back?" I imagined Kip to be a little lonely for some conversation, he certainly wanted to keep it going, and I didn't mind at all. I found his voice almost as pleasant to listen too, as he was to look at. He kept his eyes locked on mine as he talked to me; I found it a little exciting. "I live on Summner Avenue, in the condominiums near the Friendly's." I quickly volunteered as I fumbled around in my sports jacket looking for my ticket to see what my return flight was. "Wow, do you get the Springfield Republican? I deliver to that building," Kip said excitedly. I looked at my ticket and back into his dark eyes, I can't explain it, but I was drawn to him. I found him extremely attractive. I hadn't had sex with another boy since I was his age, nor had I really thought about it until then. I tried to change my thoughts and keep it innocent, but didn't succeed. I found this kid sexually appealing and couldn't chase the feelings away. It had been over ten years since I had been with another boy. Why all of a sudden were these feelings coming alive I wondered. "I have a flight back at just after five Friday evening. Yes, I do get the paper. Now I'm really glad to meet you. I'll know who to complain to if my delivery gets messed up." "What number are you? I'll make sure I never screw up. We're flying back at the same time as you. Wow, so many coincidences! Do you believe in fate?" "Yes, Kip, I do." We spent the rest of the flight getting acquainted with one another. In between his two younger cousins, who I found out to be twins, running around the cabin and yelping, we were able to keep each other company. It was easy to ignore the antics of the two seven year olds, Kip had me captivated. I really couldn't get over the coincidences of our lives and meeting, and felt it was destiny. Kip went into great detail about his life. He was in fact sixteen, and had one and a half more years of school until he graduated. His parents were divorced, his mother was a crack head, his father long gone from the scene, Kip lived with his Aunt and her two children. As he told me his story, there was no sadness or animosity in his voice. A few times I thought I saw some tears form in his eyes. The slim young boy, with the raven black hair, and charcoal eyes, told me how hard it was for him in school. Kip explained that he had to get up early every morning to do his homework. After school he delivered his papers, and then had to baby-sit his two cousins, so his aunt could work a second shift job. He told me she worked for Monsanto; I figured immediately; she was a machine operator, making low wages. Kip said the only subject he had real trouble with was math, he just couldn't seem to grasp it. Math was my specialty I explained to him. I told him I was a Civil Engineer, and all about my job. Hell, I even told him about Shelly and I. I hadn't talked so much since I was in high school. I loved every minute of being with Kip and listening to him, I liked the way he'd scrunch up his face as he listened to me. I didn't even know we had landed. I had been so enthralled with Kip and our conversation I barely noticed the food I had eaten. I didn't want our time to be over, I didn't want to let him go. Then I remembered I'd see him in a few days again, we'd be on the flight back together. Before we got off the plane I gave him my phone number. I told him if something happened and we missed each other on Friday to please call me. I encouraged him, by saying I would be glad to help him with his math. He smiled at me and took my hand into his when he took the slip of paper. He held my hand longer than was necessary, but I didn't mind. When we parted company in the airport I felt lonely again. I couldn't wait to see Kip again; it was as if I had known him forever. I kept looking over my shoulder as I walked to the car rental to catch one last glimpse of him. Every time I looked back at him, as I walked through the crowded terminal, I noticed he was staring at me, flashing me his handsome smile. Friday seemed so far away. ************************ To be continued.