A Virtual Touch

The flight schedule monitor showed all flights arriving on time, with the exception of a couple that flipped to delayed but nothing overly noticeable. I was more concerned that my pacing around the airport would have been noticed as someone up to something but I also thought it was all in my head. After all, people are immersed in their own business, and the few security guards I see through the aisles are not glancing or seemingly interested in my going back and forth. The flight I was waiting for UA8226, coming from New York was on time and should arrive in about an hour. The flight usually takes 1 hour and a half and I would have very well waited a little longer at the free parking lot but I decided to park my rented car and wait for my party to arrive right at the airport to avoid the rush of finding a place to park and seeming too rushed, nervous or anxious. But it was not helping too much. Although I wasn’t overly worried about something going wrong, I was still nervous. After all, that wasn’t a regular encounter. I would finally meet the woman whom I had been in contact with virtually for several months now. It was during the pandemic, I remember exactly how that night was, I was trying to find a soul to chat with, I guess it wasn’t what I was looking for at the time but deep inside perhaps I was hoping for something to happen. I have done this before. I teach and sometimes when I am not too busy, I look for prospects online in those language exchange sites to chat a little, after all, helping others doesn’t hurt. The day that I met her though, I was feeling a bit down and she was someone who lifted my mood very quickly. We connected in a way I wasn’t expecting. She was easy to talk to and our conversation was very innocent and friendly. At least at first, it seems as though it was. We talked about generalities.

I liked the fact that she asked me what my intentions were and I said that I wanted to help someone who wanted to practice, after all, I had some free time. I liked that she was a woman I felt at ease with, that I could talk to without checking every single word I say in fear I might be misunderstood.

She was also a language teacher and felt comfortable with people, just she didn’t like jerks that were there for other reasons.

Besides her native Farsi and good Arabic, she spoke fluent Russian which she also taught. She was a language teacher. She said she was learning English and her level was very basic but I could sense it was better than she wanted to make it seem. She also knew some French from her trips to France as a young student. Her parents were from a well-established family in Iran and she was given the opportunity to visit Paris and stay there with a host family that had met as part of an exchange program. She befriended the daughter who was her age and became good friends. They still write once in a while and do it in French, just so she doesn’t lose the touch with that language.

The board shows that arrivals are on time. I sit down now by the airport gym. I see a young woman on the treadmill while a guy was lifting weights. I unconsciously check my biceps and smirk, it was a good thing she found me cute and not handsome or athletic, then she would be up for a little disappointment. I remember the first time we talked, we did a video chat which was not a big of a deal for me, I have done that before whenever someone wanted to practice. When there are no intentions other than just talk, your mind doesn’t really go wild. However, she was nice, she was a mature but young-looking woman. She had this zeal in her that I liked. She was wearing a T-shirt that read London in bright letters, I immediately thought that she might have gotten it on a trip to England so I couldn’t help to ask and she replied with Oh! No this is just a shirt that I liked and bought it, stressing that someday she would like to see the Buckingham Palace. She said that with a little giggle that reminded me of a teenage girl who had been caught doing something wrong, but I didn’t want to further inquire, I was just going to ask her about the trip but since it wasn’t the case, I didn’t continue. We spoke for about 15 minutes and before we said goodbye, she confided that one of the reasons why she wanted to practice was that she wanted to go to the US but it was a trip she wanted to take alone. She had never been to this part of the world and wanted to go to the US to see family whom she hadn’t seen in many years. They lived in NYC. That seemed reasonable but she then added that at the stage of her life she was in, she wanted to feel more freedom. To do something different. To explore other places without following a set plan, an itinerary that tied her to a boring excursion with guides explaining the intricacies of the different landmarks passing by on the tour bus. She actually wanted the adventure she saw in the Sex and the City series. The series that had sparked the interest of many women. The interest of intriguing and the complexities of relationships in that world-class city. Then I understood that she was more interested in experiencing something that she cannot have right now, at least speak and practice the language, and more than just to be able to navigate the language confidently during her trip. I then thought that she was thinking about those stories where the foreign lady meets a usually good looking and maybe rich guy that would sweep her feet and charm her into unforgettable rendezvous and all that which I simply couldn’t match. So, in my mind I just said, forget it, she’s not someone who would be interested in a regular Joe like me. And although I didn’t consider myself an awfully looking guy, I’m definitely no Mr. Big!

As that first conversation progressed, I told her that wishing for an adventure was normal and I confessed that I also wanted to feel I could be in one. It is uplifting and makes you feel good. I was still trying to sense if in her fantasy someone like me could be in. We then said goodbye and decided to meet again the next day. After all, language practice was the objective, right?

Although there were no obvious sparks, I had a good feeling and was hoping she felt the same way about our first encounter as well.

The following day, we chatted again and this time the chat turned a little flirtish. I could sense that she was interested in me more than just as a language practice pal. Since I also liked her, I wasn’t going to let the opportunity go. I needed to know how much more she liked me. I then breathed an air of confidence and said to myself: Mr. Big, here I come, step aside!

I glanced at my phone and the time was getting closer, less than 30 minutes for her to arrive. I stood and went to the washroom to check my hair, my face, and as I was looking at myself in the mirror I was starting to doubt if she would feel disappointed. I know she had said she liked me but again, I am no Mr. Big. Am I making a mistake? The adrenaline rush was more palpable when I thought that we had seen each other several times and how much we yearned to see each other in person. Did she meet anyone there? Then I thought it can’t be possible. Not Sarah. How much we thought we wanted this to happen. How much our lips were so close to the phone camera that we could almost touch them. Feel them. I almost could feel her skin so close to my eyes, but then so far to really feel how soft it was. To feel her scent, which made me think a lot of things when she told me her favourite scent: Channel 5. I actually visited a store when I went to the shopping mall one day, and tried it and imagine how it would be like to smell that on her own skin, so clear and soft.

I rearranged my hair. I got another piece of gum out of my pocket and put it in my mouth. Then left.

Now it’s just a few minutes for her arrival. I have no phone calls. My day was supposed to be a regular one running errands. Not much else to do. But I was at the airport. Waiting for someone who could change my day, my moment, my life, perhaps forever.

The plane has arrived.

The wait became more nail-biting. I had told her in anticipation that I wasn’t going to be close to the arrival area just in the remote but possible case that I run into someone I knew. Who can I run into at 9 in the morning at the airport? Was I being overly paranoid or concerned? I thought I was being silly and stayed calm yet, away from the main waiting area.

She flew from her home town directly to New York. Her mind was more set in seeing the sights of the city that never sleeps, and the city with all the stories of her favourite show and of course, see her beloved cousin. She actually wanted me to go there but I wasn’t in the same liberty to travel. And that’s a story for another time.

She spent three weeks in NYC. Her cousin had taken her places I thought might have raised her expectations of our meeting here. Did she meet anyone? Then the idea of her meeting someone popped in my mind again. Did I want to laugh it off since at this point, she had shown me no interest in meeting other men? I thought yes but...

Her cousin from her mother’s side emigrated to America when she was little. Her family stayed behind and wasn’t too happy with her for being so far away. She then convinced her mother to come live with her after her Dad’s passing. She thought it would be good for her mother to change places, to try something new in her life. To forget. Sarah and her cousin when kids were as close as her two sibling mothers were and the departure of Sarah’s aunt didn’t sit her mom too well but she conceded because she knew her sister needed to move on with her life. Besides, the fact that Sarah and her cousin were still communicating frequently even after so many years, gave her some relief.

Sarah had traveled quite extensively during her youth and had told her cousin who didn’t have the same luxury to travel, stories about the places and people she had seen and met. She said that once she grew old enough would move there too. But she also put those thoughts aside when marrying and her husband preferred the lineage of the Russian culture and Estate of his ancestors. Then she followed suit. Her children were born and now raised under perestroika ideals.

Sarah messaged me.

My skin chills and I can feel the hairs of my arms raising. I feel a rush. She said: I’m here. Are you here?

Yes. I answered. I am.

She then said that she would message me after going through customs.

OK, I replied.

This is it.

Just a few more minutes. I breathe in and exhale as trying to contain all my emotions. I can’t believe she is here.

She made the trip all the way from Russia. She is here.

As the arrival sliding doors open people start coming out. Most of them are returning from vacation in the US. A couple of them look familiar so I look away, but it’s just my imagination. There cannot be anyone coming on this flight that I know, right? Right? Those thoughts again. I am nervous.

I am holding a sign in case she can’t recognize me but I will show it only if necessary. Don’t want to bring too much attention.

She texted me again: I passed immigration. Almost there, dear.

This time the wait seems longer. Almost eternal. I see people leaving in groups and the crowd close to me is getting smaller. I only see a couple and a family waiting. We made eye contact and they smile and I smile back without trying to engage in conversation. There is nothing I can really say. Of course, in case someone asks I can say, I’m waiting for a relative. That never raises suspicious. But then again, no one should care, shouldn’t they?

After a few minutes more. She calls.

Hello? I answer.

Hi, how are you? She then says “I’m here. Just got my bags, I will be out soon.”

I was thrilled to finally hear her voice although I have to admit I was concerned to sound too nervous. But I think both of us sounded a little nervous.

Again Mr. Paranoia, or yours truly, took a look around to make sure there was no one that at the last moment would show up that I knew. And as little as that probability was, we simply couldn’t take risks. But we also had a plan. When she arrived and we recognized each other, I would text her to indicate her where to meet again to pick her up. It was part of the plan. My plan. But, quite honestly, she didn’t care much for plans.

I saw a silhouette coming out of the doors. I recognized her immediately. She was carrying a dolly with two bags in it. She was wearing an elegant and tastefully coloured dress with a scarf that accentuated her light-toned skin. She looked radiant, elegant. Like those pictures of her that I have seen so many times.

She approached the lower side of the passageway and I was looking at her. Then she looked at me and recognized me. She gave me a smile, not the naughty smile she usually has when sending me pictures but a more innocent one. She was here. She was with me now.

I approached her and as soon as I had her close, I greeted her, she greeted me back with a smile, gasped a little and said fine, I’m glad to be here. Aren’t you supposed to go now? She reminded me while frowning. Then she added: Wasn’t I supposed to meet you outside as you said? She then replied with a mischievous smile but trying to take my concerns and my plan seriously as well.

I then felt a little silly of all the precautions I had planned to take and how unfounded they seemed now, but still, I said: OK, I know. Wait for me outside by one of the pillars in the last row where there are few cars at this time. I am driving a white 4-door Toyota Corolla, OK? She nodded as indicating not to worry and that I should go.

As I was walking towards the concourse that would take me to the parking lot, I put on my sunglasses and a new cap I had bought recently.

I rushed to get the car without looking anywhere but ahead. I had taken a picture where the car was to avoid wasting time looking for it. I found the car without much trouble. I got in the car, checked everything was OK, it was a rental so nothing to stow away. Then I drove off.

I drove around and approached the location I had indicated her and there she was waiting for me. I pulled over and got out to take her bags and put them in the trunk. She was carrying a small purse and a carry-on leather bag. Then I opened the passenger door to let her in. I noticed she had a skirt that let her knee show and a little of her thigh. Wow, she has such nice legs I thought to myself.

Then I got in the car and asked her how her trip was, I didn’t want to stay there too long as airport security are watching who is idling so I just drove off.

I checked the time and since she arrived earlier than her hotel check-in time, we talked about going to have something to eat first before taking her to the hotel. But with all that, it was already 11 AM and I know sometimes hotels do early check-ins without an extra fee if there are available rooms.

How was your trip? I asked.

It was good but I’m a little tired. She said. And how was your drive?

It was good, I answered. There is not much traffic in this direction at this time of day.

I was glancing at her and then I couldn’t help to see that she was wearing a couple of rings on her left hand. Neither looked like wedding rings. I didn’t want to ask, so I just touched her hand and then without hesitation, we interlocked our fingers. My hands were still a little cold but so were hers. Our grasp was gentle but firm.

I then took a turn, went out to the return lane to the airport, then drove straight to the free parking zone. And then I parked. I knew we wanted this. I didn’t want to drive any longer without finally feeling her lips in mine. We were both still a little nervous but we wanted it.

After I had parked, I looked at her and kissed her. She kissed me back. I can’t describe how that felt. We closed our eyes and we both reached out to each other and she grabbed my face, I caressed hers, her shoulders, her arms. I looked at her, she had her eyes closed and then she opened them. I could see the bright spark of her big russet brown eyes. I could taste her red lips, smell her delicate perfume. I kissed her again. We kissed again. This moment was eternal.