Proof of Trust

The gaze of 1,000 eyes anticipated the breath of her next word. She inhaled deeply.

Alright Jordan lets land this plane, she thought.

"Trust," she exhaled.

"Perhaps one of the most quintessential aspects of any relationship we have. Every morning we wake up. We begin our days and trust that there's something on the other side to look forward to. W trust other drivers on the road, to not do anything reckless. We trust that our favorite bowl of magic at that quaint little sleepy restaurant will teleport you home. We trust that people are who they say they are.

We place trust into every single relationship that we have. And especially in our relationships involving love.

In the words of American psychologist, tv personality and game show winner Dr. Joyce Brothers, "The perfect proof of love is trust."

Well here's a $64,000 question for you Joyce:

"What is the proof of trust?"

How do you prove trust? Through words? Actions? Money?

Personally, I like to think it's combination of all the above. Your words commit to an action that your investment holds true. You know, something to the effect of the old adage, "say what you mean and mean what you say." And yet as definitive as trust is in a relationship, it's perhaps the most enigmatic principal of love. As trust exists most profoundly in its absence.

Proving trust is a part of relationships that you never anticipate having to navigate until it's broken.

Thank you."

An eruption of applause filled the auditorium as rows of people stood to their feet. Jordan kept a content and warm smile on her face as she gestured to the audience in humble appreciation.

Nailed it, she silently affirmed herself.

As individuals began to usher themselves out of the space single file through the corridors, a separate line of individuals began approaching her and filling the aisle. As the audience members waited patiently to investigate further the inner works of Jordan's mindset, she let her mind wander absently.

That might have been one of your best runs so far. Perhaps you could've pulled a bit more of a tear as you reviewed the analysis of your past traumas with men. Then again you have overcome so much, the resilience should make you appear strident and yet approachable. Or narcissistic. Speaking of. What a way to meet someone... Hopefully he didn't mind coming here first.

Jordan's stream of conscious thought continued to run at a roadrunners pace as she mindlessly signed books from eager attendees. The attention felt lighter as she understood that everyone who was in line was just like her. They too were searching. For something different. Something that mirrored an alternate reality in which love felt definable. A place where love was the trust of a safe space. An almost far-off mystical Narnia type place. A home away from home the likes of which, she created in her novel.

"I never really cared for Narnia. It seemed much to cold to host a warm heart," the man in front of her mused.

"Excuse me?" inquired Jordan.

"The Chronicles of Narnia."

"Yes, what about them?" she quips.

"I don't know... It just seems like much too cold a place to host the kind of love that you describe in your novel." he offers.

"But how did you..."

"The heart of the lion, chapter 3? There's obvious symbolism and metaphors to the C.S. Lewis classic. Don't get me wrong I'm all for the classics. I just would prefer they be set somewhere where I can enjoy a little warm bowl of magic. I trust that that place exists." he explains.

Jordan felt her guard begin to ease as her intrigue began to show through her gaze. The man was of average height, with broad even shoulders and tight black curls that ran into a fade. His smile was mapped by the two pin-sized dimples framing his face.

Welcome to Narnia, she thought silently as her lips curled gently into a smile. Her cheeks felt like they were glowing.

"I'm glad that you enjoyed yourself," she remarked.

"It was hard not to. You've captured my attention. I appreciate the nuances in your writing. It reminds me of how I feel in the kitchen when I season my food."

His soft brown eyes have been searching her every response. Entranced but vigilant she notices the presence of another man hovering towards the table. She breaks her attention briefly to make eye contact, but the man quickly pivots as he sees her smile drop.

He departs up the stairs, his head immediately dropping to his phone.

"You cook?"

"Don't we all?"

"Not with DoorDash," Jordan chuckled.

"There's DoorDash in Narnia?" the young man said shocked.

"And the offer contactless delivery. No more unnecessary social anxiety," she muses.

"You deserve a meal that isn't going to be left on your porch like you're a stray animal."

"Stray animals actually don't have it that bad. No rent. Sometimes you get free food." she shrugged.

"I won't charge you, if you let me cook you dinner tonight."

Jordan's eyes flickered as she caught the glimmer of dare in his eyes. She was originally anticipating a dinner downtown after her book reading as they had agreed to over the dating app. Plus her hotel was closer. But something about the allure of a home cooked meal left her reminiscing of the times when she had her own place to call home before to the tour. An opportunity to be in a space that felt lived in, instead of every hollowed out hotel room across the country.

"A homecooked meal. A surprisingly bold choice for the first date."

Jordan bit her lip as she pretend to search her mind for the answer she had already felt pulsing through her.

"Do you trust me?" he probed.

Trust, she thought.

The word felt like lead on her tongue.

She swallowed the metallic taste and nodded gently as she closed her eyes.

Oh you're feeling bold tonight, huh? she thought to herself. First you agree to finally swipe right on a profile without even getting to see a full picture of the guy. I suppose having a gaggle of friends in every photo comes across as outgoing and sociable. But also confusing and also somewhat misleading. I mean think about it, am I going out with you or your entire freshman year dorm group? And now you've decided on a whim that the small fragments of information you've sewn together on this guy, based on self-reported data mind you, warrant enough safety for a house call? Girl, you might be trippin trippin. It must've really been a long time since you've...

"I actually don't stay too far from here. I'm sure you'll want to be close to wherever your lodging is," he offers as he interrupts her thoughts.

"That sounds perfect. I have a pretty early flight out in the morning."

Jordan follows the young gentleman outside of the auditorium. The brisk air scurries them quickly to their vehicles and she places her handbag and phone in the seat beside her. Her phone quickly illuminates and she see a flash of her favorite Vietnamese restaurant she's set as the background. Her mouth begins to water as savory bone broth fills her mind. The aroma of the heat, jalapeno, cilantro and onion clear her senses and opens her airways. She inhales a deep breath and exhales as her stomach grumbles.

A horn honks.

As the young gentleman pulls off in his black sedan she follows him through the bright streets of the city. They begin to slow at a parking garage and he gestures that she enter through the lower level and meet him on the top floor. Through the entrance of the top floor she begins to turn down a long hallway. What apartment number? As she enters the building if feels silent as she thinks to herself.

Welp. Here we are. There's no turning back now. I'm not too far from my hotel but it's after 10:00 pm. Realistically it's much too late for dinner let alone leaving here any earlier than 1:00 am. Do I really trust myself to make the decent decision to leave? The thought of staying with a stranger feels unfamiliar and honestly risky. But the allure of someone to spend the night with feels like a temporary home.

A door creaks opens two paces away.

"Welcome to Narnia," he muses with a welcoming smile.

Temporary home it is.

The apartment feels warm. There are pictures of friends and family decorating the chocolate painted walls. A fuzzy rugs stretches itself out before the fireplace surrounded by a tan sectional. The round ottoman hosts a tray filled with two glasses and a bottle of red wine in the center. A charcuterie board filled with fine cheeses, plump grapes, salted thin slices of meat and dark chocolate rests next to the wine.

"Wow," Jordan breathes.

"Something for you to get started for the night. Drinking on an empty stomach hasn't been advisable since freshman year of college."

"I can assure you freshman year, I was not drinking glasses of Merlot. More like Kamchatka Vodka mixed with red Powerade."

The man grimaced at first and then chuckled.

"I'm going to be in the kitchen getting dinner together. It's late, but I promise it'll be well worth the wait. Please feel free to make yourself at home."

The idea of home felt like such a distant memory. They never tell you when that your dream breeds sacrifices that lead you to question why you were wishing on a star in the first place. Sacrifices of all many of the things that bring you the most joy in this life. Family. Friends. Love. Jordan missed the reassurance that came with being in your own world of comfort.

As Jordan slowly sipped her Merlot and munched on some crisp grapes she felt her phone vibrating in her pocket. Annoyed with the thought of disrupting her tranquility she put it on silent. As time passed she felt her eye lids begin to sink closer and closer together.

"Sorry that took so long. I'm sure after your day you're almost ready to be asleep. Hopefully this dish will warm you up."

He places two wide bowls on the ottoman. The aroma fills her nostrils with the scents of everything that lit up her phone only a few moments earlier. Her eyes stare in wonder as she realizes that this little bowl of magic is not merely a saved memory, but a little piece of her temporary reality.

"Pho?" she questions excitedly.

A smile grows on his face as he understands the satisfaction in her question.

"You wrote so affectionately about it in your book. How the harmony of this bowl is own of the few good things your soul trusts in this world."

Jordan feels her body overwhelmed with warmth as she feels herself open to this complete stranger who feels a home she lost the keys to.

Following the meal, they retire to the bedroom and she feels the sun wake her.

Wrapped in covers, she confusingly fumbles for her phone as she recognizes her flight is set to leave. 2 missed calls and 1 text message.

1 missed call from her agent. Probably wondering why I never made it back to the hotel.

1 missed call from an unidentified number.

Jordans eyes widen as she reads the text message, and her jaw begins to slowly part from her top lip.

(513) 2435 - 7777 : Hey. Just wanted to check-in and say you did amazing tonight. I was ready to leave for our date but I think I caught you during a bad time. If you're ever still interested in grabbing dinner sometime when you're back in the city let me know.

I know of a great local pho spot around the way.

- Ben