O'Connell Bridge - Pt. 22

The TSA agent frowned at LC. His job was to search and stop would-be terrorists and the tall, red-headed young man in front of him obviously looking like a typical American college kid. But, LC was selected out of the group of waiting passengers for in-depth examination.

“Tell me again why you don’t have any luggage.”

LC took a deep breath. “All of my luggage has been sent to my hotel in Dublin, Ireland. The Ashling, if you want to check. And no, I don’t have the phone number because you have my briefcase with all of my travel papers.”

“What do you do for a living?”

“I’m a student. Why is that important?”

The TSA agent picked up the briefcase. “Only nominal toiletries, papers, passport, and it appears money, is that correct?

A frustrated LC nodded. “Yes. Hairbrush, deodorant in a baggie.”

“Did you check any luggage other than what we discussed?”

“No.”

“No electronics?”

“No, and I left my cell phone at home.”

“How about the headset.” The TSA agent pointed to LC’s noise suppressant earphones.

“Okay, yeah, I can plug it in to a stereo if I want.”

The agent looked in the money envelope. “This money ain’t American, how come you have it now? And how much is it?”

“Traveling money, 600 euros, about $700. I’ll need it when I arrive. It was exchanged for me by my travel agent; and, her number is also in the briefcase.”

“You’re going for 10 days.”

“That’s correct.”

“Business?”

LC couldn’t believe the questions. “Yes.”

“You said you are a student? Which is it? Business or student?”

“I’m traveling to meet with a business, and yes, I am a student.”

“Most business people who forward their luggage travel with a shirt, underwear, and toiletries.”

“All forwarded for me.”

“By?”

“O’Neil Milling Corporation.”

“What do you do there?”

“I’m being recruited.” Best answer he could generate at the time.

The agent handed him the briefcase. “Thank you.” He turned and walked out of the room.

LC sat on the available chair and began putting on his shoes and pocketing his change. “And, I’m leaving the country.”

The flight was to land in Dublin, Ireland at 7:30 AM. LC managed to sleep a total of four hours on the plane and because of his strange work schedule, he felt refreshed, so he brushed his teeth in the restroom and cleaned his face with paper towels. “I guess I’m about ready.”

He returned to his seat for the last 45 minutes of the flight. “I know where my cell phone is, on the back of the toilet.” A nearby sleeping seatmate stirred slightly and LC crunched against the window. He eased up the briefcase and fetched the mail he had picked up leaving his apartment.

“Figures.” The first one he came to was from the Alumni Association asking for donations. “I’ve been out of school less than a month and they’re already begging.”

Two more letters were standard renewal notices, but the third was a hand written letter postmarked Boston. He recognized the handwriting. “Cait.”

“LC,” she wrote. “I’m writing to beg your forgiveness. I tried to call you to explain, but alas I never reached you. So, I decided to write. I dropped my phone in the river, truthfully I threw it, but that’s another story and only picked up a cheap prepaid disposable phone for my use. It won’t text. But that’s only an excuse. The last time we were together I pushed you away. Now, I know I may have lost you.

I know that you probably don't feel much loved by me right now and probably won’t believe me when I say that I love you very much. You are my reason for everything. I look at your picture, the one we took together at the beach, and feel like a teenager in love for the first time. The way you talk, the way you walk, and the way you touch me makes my knees weak. I want you to know that no matter how many rough times we go through, that feeling is always there, and I will always wonder what I can do to make you love me. Again? Why would such a wonderful guy love me? I don't know, but I am so hopeful that you do.

All I want is to hear your sweet voice, and to tell you that I love you so, please forgive me.”

LC swallowed hard. “Cait.”

To be continued...