His parents wait in the little concession area with his sister, and my best friend, Livvie, feeding money into the vending machines as they wait for his plane to arrive. We’ve all been here for an hour, having arrived early to make sure we didn’t miss him. Livvie teased me the entire way to the airport.
While they eat bad candy and chug sodas, I stand by the security check, peering past the bobbing heads of the new arrivals. I chew one blush-painted fingernail and shift from foot to foot trying to get a better vantage point.
The arrivals board flickers and finally shows that his plane has landed. The butterflies in my stomach morph into big, fat hopping frogs. We weren’t able to write any letters after his last because he was too busy and I got caught up preparing for a visit to Tulane, just in case. I can barely admit to myself that it’s because I don’t want to put the pen to paper and make my future a reality for fear of what it will mean for us.
An eternity later, Jack’s family joins me at the gate as people start filtering through, carry-ons dragging drunkenly behind them. I spot his now buzzed head over the top of the crowd and I can’t help the grin that breaks out. I get to my tippy toes and wave to get his attention.
He looks up from weaving around a couple of ladies in front of him and his eyes automatically land on me. I see him pause there for a second and his body jolts in recognition, then a matching grin graces his face, his dimple peeking out.
Hesitation gone, for the most part, I squeeze through the crowd of people, his family on my heels, and throw myself into his arms. He wraps his arms around me, lifting me off of my feet as he spins me around in a circle.
We come to a stop and he squeezes me so tight I can barely breathe, but I don’t care. He stands there, just holding me, and I don’t ever want to let him go. Those months he was gone were unbearable.
When he does finally loosen his arms, it hits me that this is what it will be like when he leaves for his first duty station and I go off to college. Hundreds, maybe even thousands, of miles will separate us. Our entire relationship will be comprised of letters like those I have stowed in my closet. Quick trips we can steal in between our schedules. Spending more days apart than with each other.
He lets me go to embrace his family and I step behind him, giving them room to welcome him back. I look around, lost in thought, and my gaze settles on the women walking around us, a couple of them a few years older than me, nearer to Jack’s age than mine. They smile and eye him appreciatively and suddenly I feel like a little girl caught in dress up, not quite old enough to play these adult games.
Are those the kind of women that he’s around when he goes out with Ben and his friends? I watch them walk away, keenly aware of their confidence and worldly air. I’ve never been out of Florida. I’ve hardly even traveled away from our small town of Nassau. How could I compete with women like that? What does he even see in a girl like me when he has options like that?
I bite my lip as he swings an arm around my shoulders. “I’m starving. Where are we going to eat?” he asks his mom.
“One track mind,” Livvie says.
“We made you your favorites back at home,” his mom replies. “Consider this your day.”
“Yeah,” Livvie says. “Because tomorrow I declare to be my day.”
“Every day is your day.” Jack ruffles her hair and kisses her forehead. “I missed you, brat.”
Livvie smiles back up at him. “Missed you, too.”
His parents file out in front of us with Livvie detailing to them exactly what she wants for her dinner. A cocoon of intimacy surrounds us, even in the middle of the crowd. The arm he’d thrown over my shoulders pulls me close enough so that he can press a kiss to my hair. My eyes close and a sweet ache takes up residence in my chest and pulses throughout my body.
“I missed you, baby.” His voice is steady and deep. Intoxicating. God, he puts me under his spell just by speaking.
“I missed you, too.”
“Anything exciting happen these last couple weeks?”
I bite my lip, the words threatening to spill over. I swallow them, determined to let him have at least one good day back. “Nothing much, really.”
“I’m sure Mom and Dad have something planned for tonight, and I have to help out at the gym tomorrow, but I want you to come with me. Hang out for a while.”
“I’m all yours,” I say.
His eyes darken and he pulls me closer.
“Son, I’m going to get your bags from the line while your mom and sister pull the car around,” his dad calls from the hall in front of us.
“Thanks, Pops,” he answers, his gaze still intent on my face. His heartbeat races under my palms and mine trips over itself to catch up. He can’t seem to stop touching me, rubbing his hands over my arms and down the exposed line of my back. In the pause between his dad’s words and their departure, every naughty word he whispered to me during our video chats comes rushing back.