She stopped just passed the doorway looking nervous and slightly lost with the sharp lines of her face pinched and pale. She pushed her thin steel rimmed glasses back up the bridge of her nose and raised her hand to the brim of her heavy black Akubra, further backlighting her face against the glare of the tarmac. She stood there a few moments letting her eyes adjust to the sunlight. Squinting and using her hand to extend the brim of her hat she peered into the darkened space trying to ascertain shapes amongst the bright blotches the sun had left scattered across her vision.
He spotted her quickly, the sun gaping into the terminal as the polarised electric doors slid open and closed lit her up. She had dressed for the long plane flight – thick leather Birkenstock sandals, fisherman’s pants she had bought in Thailand years before and a loose Indian cotton vest. Her only jewelry four deep turquoise studs – two in her left ear, one in her right and the other in the crease of her left nostril. Her long dreadlocks were tied back in a long twisted pony tail punctuated four times down its length by additional ties leaving it looking like the complex pattern of a hand-knotted rug. She clutched a small backpack loosely in her hand, swaying slightly by her side.
As he took in her face his stomach lurched. Her nervous expression had transmitted a fear that made his hands clench and sweat. He knew it was irrational. That she was here and that all those tensions should be gone but the primal urge to panic suddenly overwhelmed him. The air conditioning was suddenly too cold yet his body felt hot and clammy. He spent about five seconds standing locked in indecision between a desire to run and a desire to stay. Then in turn he emerged from one of the bright blotches in her vision and after a moment’s pause to confirm his identity she moved toward him, her facing lighting into an almost idiotic smile. That smile killed the nervous chemical fear in his stomach leaving his face with a mirrored smile as he walked forward.
Hollywood would have presented it in slow motion – the couple’s purposeful movement across the open space toward each other, a joyous embrace, him spinning her in the air, triumphant music. But time didn’t slow for either of them. Rather it seemed to pass in a frantic burst, less than a minute passing in a split second. They moved together so quickly those around them seemed to have ceased movement. They eventually stood a pace apart. They didn’t touch, both suddenly nervous and scared, unsure what to do to break the deadlock between them. He couldn’t speak not knowing what to say and perhaps even if he had known not capable of articulating a word. She just smiled then opened and closed her mouth as if she too was trying to start a ten sentences at once and failing to even express a single word.
His hands reached out and grabbed her fingers pulling her arms toward him. She stepped forward into him and pressed her face into the side of his neck, her arms reaching around and over his shoulders to pull him close. They stood there for a long time. Not moving. Later neither of them could remember if they spoke.
