A Chance Encounter

The airport was spinning, or maybe it was all in my head. The kind of dizziness that consumes you like freefall.

I forgot to transfer my bags onto the connecting flight and in a moment of panic, walked out of the door marked with the unmistakable fluorescent red EXIT. I squinted to focus my eyes on the steady hands of my leather watch that read 7:29 pm. Great. I thought to myself as I marched erratically in the lobby of the airport. Amid the sea of people, I felt lightheaded.

“Are you lost?” A rustic voice asked behind me.

I turned around and was met squarely with a tall man wearing a sharp uniform. What kind of iron does he use? I thought to myself. There was not a single crease in his dress shirt. Flustered, I smooth out my cashmere sweater that was wrinkled from the long flight. I clear my voice and look up to see his piercing and inquisitive eyes on me.

“Yes…I…I’m lost.” I stammer. I was so disheveled. “I need to transfer my bags onto my connecting flight, but I went through the wrong doors.” I was surprised to see how calm he was.

“What airline are you flying with?” He asked coolly.

“Northwest Airlines,” I quickly responded.

“I work for Northwest Airlines.” He replied. “Follow me, we'll get you back in no time.”

He motioned me towards the elevators and with such grace, pressed the up button and shot me a smile as we waited for the doors to open.

The elevator doors slid open and it was empty. He held the doors effortlessly with one hand, “Après vous, mademoiselle.” His politeness made me feel on edge.

We were alone in the elevator. He stood opposite me; his assertive figure leaned against the metal railing. He was almost a foot taller than me and had dark brown hair that was slicked back like Danny Zuko. He wasn’t strikingly handsome but sported an air of mystery that was deeply attractive. His beard and sideburns were coiffed with ease.

Without warning, he reached towards my luggage and read the tag, “You’re flying from Copenhagen?” He inquired.

“I spent four months abroad on international exchange,” I replied earnestly.

“It’s too bad you don’t live in Toronto.” He said as he retreated back to leaning against the bar.

What on earth could he have meant by this? A thousand thoughts were racing through my head. I felt dizzy again. The elevator bell rang, and the third-floor light illuminated. I quickly stumble out of the elevator and take in a deep breath.

“Here we are,” he smiled. Sure enough, we were at the Northwest Airlines check-in counter.

I step towards the counter but just before I leave, he stops me and says, “By the way, you’re gorgeous.”

In a whim, I turn back and ask, “What’s your name?” I rationalized that it was impolite to go without thanking him properly but deep down, I couldn’t bear to go without knowing.

His gaze took on a sheen... a warmth that I’ve never seen before. He had bold brown eyes; the kind that sparkles as if we were seated by the fireplace. I was so enthralled that I completely missed his name.

He clears his voice, “Miss – so what’s your name?” He asked.

"Uhhh, I’m sorry. I didn’t catch your name.” I turn around and bite my lip. I could feel my face flush when I meet his gaze again.

“My name is Dave.” He says with a chuckle. “And what is yours?”

“Ummm…” I suddenly forget my name. How is that even possible? I thought to myself. I quickly look down at my baggage tag. “I’m Innes,” I finally stammered. He must think I’m a con.

“It must be my lucky day.” Dave smiles broadly, “That’s my middle name.”

It wasn’t funny but I couldn’t help but laugh. “I should go… but thanks for everything, Dave.”

“If I’m ever in Ottawa, maybe I’ll see you,” He gives me one last smile before we part ways.

My brain felt clouded. What just happened? I thought to myself. My body moved towards the check in counter, but it felt like I was just going through the motions of answering the yes or no questions from the agent. I was still thinking about Dave.

It was 8:20 pm. My flight back to Ottawa is set to depart at 9:10 pm so I did not have much time to spare.

Filled with a renewed purpose, I follow the signs to gate D93. The airport was quieter than usual, almost unrecognizable. It was Christmas night, so I suppose most people were home with their families.

My concentration was suddenly disturbed by a splitting PA message:

“Attention passengers. Due to inclement weather and the extremely low visibility from the snowstorm, Flight NW899 scheduled at 9:10pm from Toronto to Ottawa has been cancelled until further notice. We apologize for the inconvenience, but your safety is our number one priority. Please remain alert using the Toronto Pearson Airport app, where we will keep you informed as soon as operations resume. We thank you for your understanding.”

No…no…no! I thought. This day could not possibly get worse. I wanted to be home with my parents and sister for Christmas night. I bought some special presents from Denmark; chocolates, butter cookies, a Danish gnome, Aquavit, and I wanted to surprise them. I rummaged through my purse to find my phone when I suddenly hear a voice behind me.

“Come on, it’s not that bad…”

Fuming, I turn around only to be met squarely with Dave.

I didn’t know whether to smile or punch him. I resisted the urge to use brute force and instead decided to smile.

“How did you find me?” The words blurted out of my mouth before I could think.

He raised his brow, “Oh, I wasn’t looking for you. I come here for food every night. Maybe it’s you that’s following me.”

“I wouldn’t be caught dead risking to miss my flight to run after a man I barely know.”

“Well, there’s no risk of missing your flight anymore, is there?” He shot me another teasing glance. “Are you hungry?”

“Yes!” I blurted out. For goodness’ sake I thought, why must your mouth always be quicker than your brain.

He made no point of wasting time , “Fantastic! Let’s go have some dinner, you must be famished from your long flight.”

We walked down the immaculately tiled airport. I looked out the windows and could see the blizzard ravaging on. Though the storm was strong, it brought a calming effect to the onlooker. The crisp white snow fell with such splendour from the sky it looked magical.

We arrived at the restaurant. Looking up, I saw the words “Acanthe” written in blue wooden letters. The restaurant was dimly lit and was decorated with class. Candles lit every table, and a soft pianoforte was playing in the background.

“Pour deux s’il vous plaît," Dave requested effortlessly.

“Certainement monsieur.” We were greeted by a slender French man dressed in a black button-down shirt.

The waiter takes us to a table near the back; next to a grand piano and tucked behind a fireplace divider.

“Can I serve you any drinks to start?”

“We’ll take your finest Merlot,” replied Dave in a buttery voice.

“I suggest the Château Pétrus.”

“That sounds fantastic.”

“Et vous, mademoiselle?”

“I don’t drink. A lemonade will be fine for me.”

The waiter tucked his pen above his ear and said “Merci. Je reviens.”

“You don’t drink?” asked Dave quizzically.

“I’ve never found much pleasure in it. Some would say it’s my secret weapon but it’s really only something I reserve for very special occasions.”

The waiter returned with our drinks and a plate of calamari stacked with impeccable precision.

“Alors, what can I get you both? Can I entertain you with our menu specials for this evening?”

“I’m starving.” Innes heaved. “I could eat a whole duck.”

“Mademoiselle, we have precisely what you’re looking for. On the menu this evening, we are serving Magret de canard au miel et aux mangues, puree de celeri servi avec pommes de terres gratinée au cochon et cheddar.”

“That sounds absolutely divine. I’ll take it!”

“Well, looks like she’s ordered for the both of us,” Dave teased.

“No way! I don’t know your taste. I only intended to order for myself–”

“Mademoiselle, a whole duck like this can serve four people. Are you sure you can finish it by yourself?”

Unmoved, I reply with resoluteness, “Without a doubt.”

“I’ll take one too,” responded Dave confidently. “In fact, I propose a challenge. If you finish everything, dinner is on me; but if you don’t finish, then dinner is on you.”

“Then I can only conclude that your wallet is about to get thinner.”

“My my… deux canards entiers… This is the most fascinating night.” And with that, the waiter swiftly retreats.

“I love a girl who can eat,” Dave says as he bats a flirtatious eye.

“Enjoying delicious food is one of the great wonders of life.” There was a burgeoning intensity in the air. I could feel Dave’s piercing gaze on me as I attempted to dart his gaze to focus on a painting in a corner of the room.

Dave broke the silence, “Did you know, staring into someone’s eyes for two minutes can make two strangers fall in love?”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Then let's find out.”

I sat up straight in the soft velvet seat and cleared my throat. I pushed up my black rimmed glasses and focused my gaze until it met Dave’s. He held my gaze, and I couldn’t look away even if I wanted to. I could feel my heart beating faster… I could hear it pounding in my ears. I could feel my face getting warm and red, like I was getting tipsy, but I haven’t even taken one sip of the wine. I held down my left leg with my hands to stop it from shaking. This was tormenting but I couldn’t give up. No. I couldn’t succumb to defeat before the game even began.

Sinking in self-consciousness, I had to say something to fill the silence, so I voiced the first thought that came to me, “Do you believe in fate?”

It was the first time that evening that I had caught Dave off guard. But his surprise was quickly met with scrutiny. He opened his mouth to speak but paused. “I prefer to believe that we are the commanders of our own lives. We consciously make decisions, and our actions are the result.”

“That’s quite noble. But I suppose fate doesn’t have to be at odds with our free will to make our own decisions. It would be quite absurd to think of love as the redux of pure rationality.”

This time, it was Dave who caught me off guard, “Have you been in love before?” But before I could answer, our waiter arrived with our dinner in hand.

The buttery and tangy aroma from the duck wafted into my nostrils as the waiter set the dish before me. The duck was roasted to perfection, nestled on a delicious bed of honey and mango puree. The potatoes were toasty on the edges and simmering in creamy cheese. I could hardly wait to dig in.

Delighted, the waiter wished us Bon Apétit and left us alone once more.

I raise my glass, “Cheers to fate bringing us together in a crowded airport.”

“Empty,” Dave jokes, “In an empty airport.” Before continuing, “Seriously though, cheers to the blizzard for delaying your flight and bestowing me the chance to dine with you.”

I smile...before digging in. I decide to go straight for the leg- my favourite piece. Dave watched, amused. It had the perfect ratio of crispy skin and juicy meat. I devoured it within seconds.

“Are you sure you don’t want any Merlot? It’s fantastic.”

“I’m sure.”

“If I sent you an infinite supply of Merlot, what would you do with it?”

“I’d bathe in it.” We both let out a boisterous laugh.

I continued devouring the food in front of me and before I knew it, already finished half of the duck and began tucking into the potatoes. “You have some catching up to do,” I say to Dave as I shot him a playful look. “I didn’t ask, but what do you do for Northwestern?”

“I thought you could tell by now. I’m a Pilot.”

“A Pilot!?” I exclaim. “Then what are you doing here with me? Don’t you have planes to fly?”

“It just so happens that my flight got cancelled to.”

“What a coincidence! What flight was it?”

“Yours.”

“This night just keeps getting weirder and weirder…” I thought to myself, not realizing that I had said it aloud.

“Better and better is how I would describe it.”

I attempt to divert the topic, “It must be nice to have your dream job.”

“Actually, when I was a kid, I always wanted to be a scientist and work for NASA. But I was never that good in math or physics.” Dave smiles, “I guess being a Pilot cuts close enough.”

“When I was a kid, I always dreamed of being a movie director. You can make people believe in anything for a few hours– isn’t that most extraordinary?”

The restaurant was getting quiet, and I could just make out Chopin's Noctrunes playing on the piano.

“I’m stuffed,” Dave said as he sat back in his chair.

“C’mon! You still have a third left and you haven’t even touched the potatoes,” I reply. “You have some serious catching up to do.” I was already on my last thigh and finishing the rest of my potatoes.

We spent the next several minutes eating in silence, but I could feel Dave’s eyes on me again.

“I’m done.” I finally announce proudly as if I had clinched first place in a contest. I hold my hands in a fist as if holding a microphone and bring it to Dave’s mouth, “How does it feel to lose?”

“Second best is how I’d put it. But you know that I’d pay for you even if you didn’t win.”

“Well, that’s a dilemma you don’t have to worry about because I did finish.”

There was still enough Merlot in the bottle to fill one glass, so I poured the remaining wine into my glass. “Thank you, Dave,” and drank it all.

“I thought you didn’t drink!” He called out, aghast.

I lean in until I was within earshot and whispered, “I said I only reserve it for very special occasions.”

Immobilized, he whispered back, “By the way, you never answered my question… tell me, have you been in love before?”

“I have tonight.” I answered, as I met my gaze in his again.

The snow continued to fall, decorating treetops in tufts of white and bringing calm to a city that never slept. But tonight, it was just as quiet outside as it was inside the dimly lit restaurant. A place where two people were brought together, by fate or otherwise, by a force stronger than the two could come to know.