Chapter 16: ONE NIGHT TOGETHER 02
She obligingly looked out the window. "It looks exactly like I thought a small town in Texas would look."
"And that is?" he prompted.
"Very Western." She turned toward him and smiled. "The buildings look like they are from a cowboy movie."
"Yeah, some of them do. Old man Jackson has tried to preserve some of the old buildings." Another block and they were out of town. "Over there was the Good Night Drive-In."
"Was?"
"It's been closed for years. I guess that's something else that's considered old-fashioned."
"I suppose. I don't think I've ever been to one."
"You missed out," he told her.
"How far away is Marysville?"
"A little over an hour."
She stared at him, then looked out of the window again. There wasn't much to see, he figured. Just fences and dusty roads, windmills and an occasional house. She'd soon tire of the scenery. And then she'd have to talk to him again.
~----------------------~
She'd been incredibly beautiful, despite the worried expression as she studied the departure board on the wall above the ticket agents' desk. He'd wondered if a husband or boyfriend would join her inline, claim her as his. But no, his luck had held, and the Beau woman with the long chestnut hair and Jade green eyes was alone. And he'd spoken to her and made her smile.
That smile had just about knocked him on his derriere.
He'd sensed trouble before it happened, heard the tense conversation escalate as three men built like wrestlers lost their temper with the ticket agent. They swore, a litany of curses not fit for women and children to hear, and one of them pounded the counter while the other attempted to climb over it . His backpack flew toward the woman's feet.
"Watch out," Andrew said as he stepped in front of her, protecting her from what was sure to be a fight. They were next in line, too close to trouble. He leaned forward and grabbed one young man by the collar of his shirt, lifting him off the floor an inch and holding him tight. "Tell your friends to quit this show now," he demanded, tightening his grip on the kid's shirt.
"Mark, Dave," he gurgled. "Cool it."
Two airport security officers appeared just as Mark or Dave threw a wild punch at the male ticket agent, a skinny young man who looked as if he hadn't slept in a week. They managed to get all three men to calm down, rounded up their luggage, then took them away.
"You okay?" he asked, joining the woman back in line.
"Fine, thank you." She'd seemed shy, surprising in a woman soo beautiful. "That was nice of you, but..."
"But?"
"Dangerous," she finished.
He shrugged. "They shouldn't have lost their tempers. You are next."
"What?"
He'd nodded toward the counter. "To check in."
"Oh." She'd smiled again, then picked up her luggage and moved to the counter. She looked over her shoulder at him as he waited in line.
The board changed; all flights were cancelled. It was going to be a long day in O'HARE, Andrew realized. But maybe, just maybe, the woman would smile at him again. For some reason he felt like they were in this mess together.
~-----------------------~
ANTIQUES were a mistake. He realized it too late, after Rose disappeared into a building crowded with aisle and aisle of old stuff. He'd just given her the perfect way to avoid him.
Andrew tried to keep up without knocking anything over. He got hung up when he tripped on a box of tools that were sticking out into the aisle, but caught up with her when she paused in front of a set of china, the kind of stuff that looked like it would break if you tried to cut a piece of beef on it. He watched as she gently picked up a teacup and turned it upside down to examine it closer.
He managed to stand beside her but stayed back from the table. "What are you looking for?"
"The manufacturer," she said, holding the cup toward him. "See?"
"Limoges," he read. "Is that important?"
"It can be." She set the little pink and white cup on the table filled with all sorts of china. "If that's what you like."
"Do you?"
"Sometimes. It depends on the colors." She moved to a display of dish towels, fingering each one. He wondered if she was trying to avoid him, since no one could be that interested in old towels, could they?
"So Francisca was right," he said, stepping over a copper bowl filled with dried flowers. "You do like old stuff."
"I love it," she murmured, moving on to a shelf filled with glassware. Andrew watched as she checked the prices on some pink colored sets of goblets, then ran the tip of her finger around the rims in a delicate motion.
"You never know what you are going to find," she said.
"Yeah," he said, hoping he sounded like he knew what she was talking about. He figured there wasn't much point to shopping unless you knew what you wanted to buy in the first place.
Rose looked like she was having fun, had maybe even forgotten she was supposed to be chaperoning her lively little niece.
"What were you doing in Chicago, by the way? you never told me."
She didn't take her eyes off the display of crystal.
"Chicago didn't happen."
"Our night in Chicago didn't happen, the wedding isn't going to happen. Has anyone ever told you you are not very realistic?"
"I have a firm grip on reality."
He didn't look convinced.
She plucked a ruby goblet from a tray filled with glasses of various shapes and colors and looked at the price.
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