Lucky Days

“Attention our loyal passengers, due to the severity of the storm, we will delay boarding for another hour. We are sorry for the inconvenience.”

My watch ticks a quarter to four. Damnit. You won’t make it now. Wow, this what my hands look like though? How did they turn into my father’s so soon? They look so bare too. I’m still not used to seeing the gold band it hosted for almost twenty years. Will it ever feel normal?

Shit, I better let Kelly know. Finding my phone in my back pocket and text: Sry sweetie, bad weather here... Looks like I’ll be stuck longer than expected. Break a leg tonight! Love Dad

A quick buzz and an “Ok.” from Kelly. Damnit, she’s not taking the split well. I hope Cathy hasn’t poisoned her with lies. Might as well go get a beer, thought I saw a bar at the entrance to the terminal.

Luckily it’s mostly empty, but I want to avoid those two suits from the conference at the end there. I cannot stand another minute of shop talk. Keep your head down and head for the stool.

“What can I get you?”

She’s striking with a bright, big smile and piercing grey eyes, I almost can’t even reply.

Words, use your words. Why are you here? Beer, yes beer. “Anything cold on draft?” Smooth, you idiot, of course there’s cold beer in a bar.

“We got a variety of light, heavy, and some local craft beer. What do you like?”

“Hit me with one of the local brewskis.” Brewskis? Who are you. I’m definitely out of practice with the flirt game, but she smirks and pulls the tap handle. What is that on her finger? Is it a tattoo? I should have said fuck it and gotten one when I was younger. What is that? Setting the foamy beer down I can make out that it’s a tiny owl.

“Thank you.” Ahhh... That first sip is always the best.

“Any time! Open or closed?”

“Open, it doesn’t look like this storm is going anywhere anytime soon.”

“Welcome to Kansas City, the weather turns on a dime here.”

“I’m heading home to Chicago and we don’t have it much better.”

“Us Midwest folks get it. Would you like any food? You better have tried our Barbe-que while you were here. We’re not known for much, but our brisket is infamous. All we have here is the Wright Brother Pulled Pork Sliders.”

“That sounds good actually! I’ll take it, but hey I really like that tattoo on your hand there. Is it an owl?”

“Yes it is, it’s a barn owl to be exact.”

“Ooo you must very wise.” God I suck at this.

“Hardly,” she giggles and looks at her index finger at the tattoo, “Growing up, two little barn owls would nest in big Oaks in our backyard. You’d hear them on still nights and when my dad was home, he’d wake me up to take me out to the porch to look for them on the branches. He’d be so excited when we’d spot them. He’d say it was our lucky day,” as she punches in my order to the tablet.

“That’s a very sweet memory,” taking another cold sip. “I feel terrible that I’m stuck here and missing my daughter’s opening tonight. She’s playing Helena in a Midsummer’s Night Dream.” This cute girl doesn’t want to hear some old guy’s problems.

"Ah, love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind; And therefore is wing'd Cupid painted blind."

“Impressive! Kansas City’s own bardolator.” That was unexpected. She moves so fast yet graceful between wiping down and stacking glasses.

“I studied some English lit at KU. Always been kind of a book nerd, but let me go check on those sliders,” disappearing to the kitchen in a seamless motion.

She’s stunning and smart. Should I ask for her number? Do people still ask for numbers these days? How do I do this and who am I kidding, she won’t go for me? She returns with the large plate and places it in front of me.

“Why does such a smart English Lit grad work at this fine aviation themed establishment?” I hope I just didn’t insult her. That was a stupid thing to say. Her face looks annoyed, as it should.

“Well my dad got sick before I could finish and I started working here so I had time to take him to his appointments. Let me get these new folks a beverage.” She hustles away to a young couple struggling with their bags. I would run away to from a jerk too.

How can I save this? She’s coming back down here. “I hope he gets better soon.” Focus on what else to say without losing her attention.

“He passed this spring.” Damnit, this keeps getting worse.

The two suits now request their checks. She assists them with big smile, punches out their bill on the kiosk and returns to my end of the bar.

“I didn’t mean to offend you. I’m sorry, I’m in town for this stupid conference I don’t even give a shit about for a job that drives me insane and now I have to miss the show my daughter has been talking about for months, which will only give her mother more fuel during our separation.” That blurted out like angry word vomit.

“I appreciate that.” Her face softens.

“I think you taking care of your dad is very honorable” and start in on the sliders to avoid anymore eye contact. She’s staying.

“We drifted apart after my parents separated and we didn’t speak for awhile, but all of life’s, I’m sorry, bullshit slips away when someone is given less than a year to live,” as she wipes down another pint glass. “If you truly hate where you’re at right now, you have time to fix it.” She’s right.

“Excuse me passengers, we have been given clearance. Please line up at Gate 5 to beginning the boarding process.” Fuck, that was sooner than I anticipated.

“I appreciate you being so open to me. Unfortunately I need to go.”

“That’s how it works here. People come and the go,” as she’s quick to pack up the remaining meal with a smile, “but make that play, I have a feeling it’s a lucky day after all,” handing me a styrofoam box and credit card.

“Thank you for everything.” Write a nice tip, collect the bags and swing by the gift shop. You can still make the second half. You got this.