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“Mom, it’s fine. I get it.” I smiled, and she smiled back.
I hopped in the car, returned home to pack a weekend bag, then made my way onto the freeway, which would in one hour’s time be engorged with traffic but for the time being flowed swiftly. It occurred to me that I hadn’t eaten lunch but kept driving despite this realization. There was a local restaurant I remembered going to in my youth, which served a special fish sandwich unlike any I’d ever had before or since. I would wait, and my body would be compensated for its patience.
By the time I got to town, I was too famished even to drop off my bag, and so I made for the restaurant, which, miraculously, had an available parking spot right in front.
“Table for one,” I told one of the waitresses as I entered. She didn’t respond, and there was a shocked expression on her face. It took me a moment before I realized why; when I did, my jaw dropped.
I was standing face-to-face with Natalie.
9
Reunion
Natalie
That night I had ten minutes left of my shift, when I saw through the windows an expensive-looking black car pull into the parking spot in front of the restaurant. But as the customer-to-be approached the front podium, and as I moved to greet him, I froze in my tracks.
It was Lucas.
“Table for one,” he said, and for a moment I couldn’t tell if he was only pretending not to recognize me, or if he had genuinely forgotten—it had been five years, after all, and what reason would he have had for thinking of me so frequently that I’d remain a familiar face to him? But as I stared at him wordlessly, something in him registered what was happening. Almost reflexively he stood upright.
We stared at each other for what felt like an eternity, but was, in reality, closer to ten seconds, before he broke the silence. “Natalie.”
Oh my god, he remembers me! Wait… is this really happening?
“Lucas,” I responded softly, as if my breath ran the risk of blowing this apparition away; whether it was real or not, I would see it through this time.
“Wow, I— I mean, wow! Natalie, isn’t this just incredible? It’s been, what, five years since we met? I don’t know, maybe I’m being silly, but I really can’t wrap my head around it.” He took a breath, composing himself. “Which is all to say, I’m really happy to see you, Natalie.”
I could tell from his expression this was true. He was wearing an improbably large grin, as if he had won the lottery, or his childhood pet had come somehow back to life. It was a smile so genuine that my initial panic—that he resented me for leaving, with no way to contact me— was put to rest.
“Me, too,” I replied.
He was looking at me intently. Then suddenly, he sighed. “Wow, I mean… you look beautiful, Natalie. Absolutely stunning. But then, there’s no surprise there.” He smiled at me, somehow more genuinely than before, his dark eyes sparkling like a lake at sunset.
“Thank you,” I said, blushing. I almost told him he looked beautiful in response, but didn’t want to be too forward. Besides, he had to know I thought so. He looked exactly as I remembered him.
Unsure of what direction to guide the conversation, I continued, “You said table for one? Right this way.” And silently I turned on my heels and led him across the room, my calm posture and neutral expression concealing the fact that my legs were shaking.
Full disclosure, I was in a state of shock. What coincidence was this? Was this perhaps a lucid dream, a psychotic delusion brought about by acute stress or sleep deprivation? Was I losing my mind?
It’s not real… you’re confused. You’re gonna turn around when we get to the table and realize you made a mistake…But, on turning, I registered I had made no mistake. It was Lucas, in the flesh.
“Thank you,” he said politely. He looked into my eyes, and for a second we were silent. It was as if we had moved past the need for words and could communicate with pure emotion. His gaze was intense, and I felt my temperature rising. “Natalie, I really am glad to have run into you. I’d love to—”
“Menu!” I yelped, reflexively backing away. “I’m sorry, I’ll just go grab one—”
He raised his hand, the way he had all those years ago. “It’s perfectly alright, Natalie, really,” he insisted, smiling again, but I was already shuffling toward the kitchen, straining to conceal my emotions.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” asked Halie, my co-worker. “You’re shaking.”
I turned to her. “Remember that story I told you once, about a guy on a plane?”
“Ohh, Hot Rich Mystery Man? Yeah, what about it?”
“He’s… here,” I managed through gritted teeth.
Halie yelped. “Natalie, that’s amazing! Maybe this is the—”
