A Change of Luck

It's not quite every day I decide to take a detour from my daily routine and rarely am I ever this lucky to travel by plane. Popped on the bed and putting on my favorite chucks, there's a ray of sunshine streaming in through the blinds that makes today feel just a little bit luckier. Sweet smile-checked the mirror one last time to tuck in a curly blonde locket of hair, I feel like I'm already on my way to something different.

The clock in the airport bar is ticking slower than usual, I think. Either that or I arrived a little earlier than usual and this drink has done its job. I thank the bartender.

Bustling, bustling, families flowing around me, first time couples looking stressed, a businessman knowingly side eyes me. I'm nonplussed, in my element-home in the escape. A sunflower emblem dances on top of the gate.

Nerves hit when I'm actually on the plane. Cramped in quarters, testing destiny and man's capabilities. I hear a passanger telling an amusing story and check my seat number. Not that lucky, although I adore funny story exchanges.

I sit in an empty row and pat myself on the back that I picked the window seat. Immediately he appears, looking as though nothing ever bothered him.

"Is this thing safe?" I ask.

"What, flying?" He barks a laugh, easily shrugging up his luggage overhead and grinning at me over his muscular arms.

"Yeah," I duck my head down and smile.

"You should've thought about that before getting on the plane." He gently jabs, crinkling one eye in amusement.

His logic seems infallible to me, especially with the defined chin and tuffs of blonde hair sticking up. I'm momentarily at a loss for words.

He chuckles and plops right down in the seat next to me, legs wide he starts messing around on his phone, checking off messages. I try not to stare and look out the window. How often do I meet a cute guy? Never!

Finally he throws his phone down in disgust and quickly glances over at me, "What's your name?"

Feeling a little ridiculous, I coyly ask, "Does it matter?"

"How stupid are you?" He abruptly asks. I'm a little put off by his antagonism but chalk it up to this category of male stereotypes I oft imagine-as though he is an abused puppy, putting up with some unbearable woman in his past. Or he's just a narcisstic asshole.

"I was flirting with you." I state the obvious.

"Oh," A flicker of compassion lights his hazel eyes briefly as his face softens. He begins to smile, a little differently.

"You won't tell me your name? Afraid of me?" He starts shifting his weight, and readjusts his arms, tanned from being in the sun.

I shrug and leave it to fate. "Will you excuse me?" I get up to use the restroom on the plane.

"Wait," He catches my arm, and I'm startled that he would grab me on the plane. "I'm sorry. My name's Lucas. I don't expect you to talk to me. I apologize if I made you feel uncomfortable. Do you want me to try to get another seat?"

I shake my head and start to laugh, "I was just flirting with you, but I accept your apology." Sitting back down, I take out a bag of trail mix. "You hungry?"

He looks at me in amasement. "Will you just tell me your name?"

"It's Amelia."

"Oh, you should be the pilot then."

"I mean, I've thought about it." We're already laughing. He's so cute; it's distracting. I drop some nuts on the floor of the plane. Kicking them with my shoe, and hoping he doesn't notice.

"So are you from Hawaii?" He seems interested.

"No, I've never been," I ashamedly admit, but now I'm grinning too.

"Oh first time in Hawaii? Really? That's pretty exciting." He relaxes, crosses his legs, and says confidently, "I'm from there."

"Oh yeah?" I feel like my face must be turning red. Words. What words should I say. What are words. "That's so cool," I say dumbly.

He leans in just a little to say, "I'll show you around when we get there if you want."

My stomach tightens. Is my luck changing? The plane hasn't even taken off yet. Could this be the perfect stranger? My moonlit walk on the beach at night as the warm waves carass our bare feet in Hawaii, soft hands holding each other gently, leaning on his shoulder, walking back to our makeshift hammock in the sand in a quiet place.

"That sounds lovely," I agree.

He looks just as surprised as I that I said yes to his invitation and quickly begins listing off all the things we can do when we get there, a beautiful resort, surfing, beach volleyball even.

"Passengers, attention please. Your flight has been cancelled due to sudden inclement weather. You must offboard the plane." The pilots booming voice over the loudspeakers sounds like a dire apocalpytic siren. We look at each other in sheer dismay. Of course this is the kind of thing that would happen to me.

"Well hey, take my number?" He asks, "Or would you like to get a drink? I'm sure there other flights. We can still go."

"Absolutely."

Before I know it, we are sitting next to each other at the bar I had frequently alone with my glass of Merlot before boarding the plane, waiting for our next flight-this time together, and he's making me a paper rose. "It's not the best, but after being a bartender for so many years, these are my bar tricks."

"I love it." It's the thought that counts, and his boyish smile is so very charming.

"It's a lucky rose," Lucas quips.

I couldn't be happier than in this moment right now. "I love it," I emphasize.

He grins, and sticks his leg out under the table, his leg hair brushing against my legs, like a giant eight year old.

"I'm so glad I bumped into you," I remark, "It's nice not to have to sit on the plane by myself, wait for the plane by myself, it'll be nice to fly together."

"Same," He nods his head and takes a sip of his brandy. "Me too. Completely agree."

Needless to say, we made it to Hawaii, and then we never left each other's side. I have been the luckiest woman in the world ever since, with a very caring husband who often challenges me to backyard drinking contests and has given me the most joy a woman can ever have with three beautiful children. I never drink alone. I never fly alone. He's always there for me.