laughed to himself, but Bridget found that innocuous comment more interesting than he had intended.
“Why would she be so worried? It’s only a couple rows.”
“Oh, well, she’s just . . . you know, she’s a mom. Your mom didn’t seem too excited about you leaving her sight,” he retorted. He held his breath and hoped that he hadn’t blown everything. Thankfully, she didn’t seem offended.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right. My mom would probably flip!” she said, a little too theatrically. “But maybe I can manage to sneak back to visit you on the flight.” She gave him a sideways glance and a slight smile. Images raced through Gordie’s mind of a tryst in a cramped lavatory. He made a concerted effort to focus on their surroundings.
Gordie realized that he had no idea how long they had been walking. They were still in the same concourse, but they were further than he had gone on his previous expedition. He looked around and saw gate C30—they were on the opposite end of the concourse. He looked at Bridget and found her studying his features.
“How were you not hurt in that explosion?” she asked him.
Gordie recoiled. “I– I don’t know. You weren’t hurt either!”
“No, but I saw you. When I was thrown against . . .” she looked away, visibly steeling her nerves, “a pile of bodies. There was a second before I was covered by more bodies. I saw you. You were standing there, holding a girl in your arms. Everyone else was thrown like a rag doll, but you were just standing there, holding a girl in your arms. ”
The memory hadn’t left Gordie and the image of Judy lying dead in his arms floated to the surface of his consciousness.
“Her name was Judy. She died the second she hit me,” he said. He had a crazy urge to tell her everything, but he knew she could never believe it. “And I don’t know why I didn’t go flying. Maybe there was something blocking the force in front of me.”
“Obviously not—Judy certainly didn’t shield you.”
“What do you want me to say? I didn’t do anything. I just lived.”
“What about that baseball? The one that you blew up or whatever? I heard about that. How did you do that?”
“That was my bat,” he invented. “It’s really big. Sometimes that happens! It happens in the pros.”
“I haven’t heard of that. Some people thought you were on steroids.” She looked at him with an eyebrow raised.
“Look at me.” Gordie waved a hand over his midsection to suggest she take in the full picture. “Do I look like I’m on roids?”
He was feeling like a criminal under interrogation now, and he definitely did not enjoy the turn the conversation had taken. But then Bridget made it all go away with that inexplicable power she had over him.
“No, I guess not,” she said, as she touched his bicep, taking in his body before looking up at him. Gordie felt relieved, yet also crushed that she was not overwhelmed by the sheer mass of his muscles.
And then Bridget leaned in, wrapped her arms around Gordie’s neck, and kissed him. For what felt like a millennium he didn’t kiss her back because he was so caught off guard. But when his brain finally processed what was happening, he wrapped her up, with no intention of ever letting go, and gave her his full attention. They broke apart after a kiss that belonged in the last scene of a romantic comedy.
As Bridget slid away from him she released the slightest of moans, like the sound one makes after biting into a cookie fresh out of the oven. Fireworks exploded in Gordie’s brain.
“There’s just something about you, Gordie. I don’t know what it is, but I think I like it,” she said with a sly smile. She slipped her hand into his and pulled him back in the direction of their gate. Frozen in blissful shock, his feet stuck where they were planted for a moment before they begrudgingly fell in line with her.
Rainbows, lollipops, and unicorns danced around in his head. As they were walking back
“Why would she be so worried? It’s only a couple rows.”
“Oh, well, she’s just . . . you know, she’s a mom. Your mom didn’t seem too excited about you leaving her sight,” he retorted. He held his breath and hoped that he hadn’t blown everything. Thankfully, she didn’t seem offended.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right. My mom would probably flip!” she said, a little too theatrically. “But maybe I can manage to sneak back to visit you on the flight.” She gave him a sideways glance and a slight smile. Images raced through Gordie’s mind of a tryst in a cramped lavatory. He made a concerted effort to focus on their surroundings.
Gordie realized that he had no idea how long they had been walking. They were still in the same concourse, but they were further than he had gone on his previous expedition. He looked around and saw gate C30—they were on the opposite end of the concourse. He looked at Bridget and found her studying his features.
“How were you not hurt in that explosion?” she asked him.
Gordie recoiled. “I– I don’t know. You weren’t hurt either!”
“No, but I saw you. When I was thrown against . . .” she looked away, visibly steeling her nerves, “a pile of bodies. There was a second before I was covered by more bodies. I saw you. You were standing there, holding a girl in your arms. Everyone else was thrown like a rag doll, but you were just standing there, holding a girl in your arms. ”
The memory hadn’t left Gordie and the image of Judy lying dead in his arms floated to the surface of his consciousness.
“Her name was Judy. She died the second she hit me,” he said. He had a crazy urge to tell her everything, but he knew she could never believe it. “And I don’t know why I didn’t go flying. Maybe there was something blocking the force in front of me.”
“Obviously not—Judy certainly didn’t shield you.”
“What do you want me to say? I didn’t do anything. I just lived.”
“What about that baseball? The one that you blew up or whatever? I heard about that. How did you do that?”
“That was my bat,” he invented. “It’s really big. Sometimes that happens! It happens in the pros.”
“I haven’t heard of that. Some people thought you were on steroids.” She looked at him with an eyebrow raised.
“Look at me.” Gordie waved a hand over his midsection to suggest she take in the full picture. “Do I look like I’m on roids?”
He was feeling like a criminal under interrogation now, and he definitely did not enjoy the turn the conversation had taken. But then Bridget made it all go away with that inexplicable power she had over him.
“No, I guess not,” she said, as she touched his bicep, taking in his body before looking up at him. Gordie felt relieved, yet also crushed that she was not overwhelmed by the sheer mass of his muscles.
And then Bridget leaned in, wrapped her arms around Gordie’s neck, and kissed him. For what felt like a millennium he didn’t kiss her back because he was so caught off guard. But when his brain finally processed what was happening, he wrapped her up, with no intention of ever letting go, and gave her his full attention. They broke apart after a kiss that belonged in the last scene of a romantic comedy.
As Bridget slid away from him she released the slightest of moans, like the sound one makes after biting into a cookie fresh out of the oven. Fireworks exploded in Gordie’s brain.
“There’s just something about you, Gordie. I don’t know what it is, but I think I like it,” she said with a sly smile. She slipped her hand into his and pulled him back in the direction of their gate. Frozen in blissful shock, his feet stuck where they were planted for a moment before they begrudgingly fell in line with her.
Rainbows, lollipops, and unicorns danced around in his head. As they were walking back
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