Now, after two hours of sitting at the airport due to an unexpected ice storm, they were both getting a slight case of cabin fever.
“Stop pulling on my sweater!" Winnie scolded as she straightened her sleeve.
Harry adjusted his watchband but not the sour attitude he had acquired since their flight had been delayed.
"I don't know why we couldn't have just gone to Atlantic City for a few days," he complained. "Look at this place, it's crawling with illegal aliens."
"Oh hush! You don't know that," Winnie scowled, "And keep your voice down."
"Why? If they can't speak English they sure as heck won’t understand it."
Over the past two hours, several people had sat down next to them but all had decided to move. Just as Harold was about to get back to his ongoing rant about the unfair cost-of-living freeze on Social Security benefits, a young man wearing a cowboy hat sat down in a seat across from them. Harold waited for eye contact before opening his mouth.
“Howdy there cowboy, where you headed?” Harold asked.
“Back home to Dallas, Texas sir.” The young man tipped his hat towards the couple.
“Oh my,” said Winifred, delighted to see such manners in a young person, “What brings you way up here?” she asked with a smile.
“Well, ma’am,” he took his hat off and placed it on the seat next to him, “I was here to attend a funeral—my Dad passed away last week.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that,” Winifred’s face scrunched up as if she were in pain.
“Why was your Dad way up here?” Harry probed, then added with a spark. “I’ll bet it was to get away from all them illegal aliens, wasn’t it?”
"Enough with the aliens!" snapped Winnie.
The young man naively turned to Harold to answer his question.
“No sir, my father was forced to leave Texas some years back for coming out as an openly gay Republican.”
Harold arched his eyebrows, “Your father was a Republican?”
“Wait a minute,” Winnie waved her hand at her husband, “How could your father be gay?” she asked.
“It wasn’t easy,” continued the young cowboy, “First, he had to have my mother’s hands surgically removed from around his neck…”
“Hey!” blurted Harold, “Was that her on 60 Minutes?”
“Will you shut up for a second?” Winifred scolded.
Harry turned to his wife to offer a response but she was already addressing the young man.
“Your mother must have been devastated,” offering him a sympathetic look.
“Well, if I woke up next to a Republican I’d be pretty devastated too,” piped Harry.
Winnie looked at her husband, “I’m a Republican dear."
A booming voice over the airport’s loudspeaker announced the boarding of all passengers to Dallas, Texas. The young cowboy quickly put on his hat and graciously bid the elderly couple goodbye.
Winifred looked around at the dwindling crowds while Harold adjusted his watchband for the hundredth time.
“The storm must have passed,” she said with quiet anticipation.
Harry sat silently, staring forward.
“Harry?” Winnie turned to him, “Did you hear me?”
“I heard you tell me to shut up,” he huffed.
Winnie smiled to herself and gently patted his leg.
“Oh hush,” she poked.
“There you go again,” he said as he looked around for more aliens.
Winifred poked his arm. He turned to see her rosy cheeks and smiling eyes beaming back at him. They sat looking at each other and as would often happen, saw the childhood sweetheart in each other.
“Do you think we have time for another hot chocolate?” she asked coyly.
Harry perused the area of the beverage machines. “As long as a large gathering of aliens don’t get in my way.”
“And can I have some little marshmallows this time?”
Harry got up from his chair.
“You can have whatever you want Winnie.” He leaned over and gave her a peck on her soft rosy cheek before heading off to the beverage machine where a large gathering of foreigners apparently had the same idea.
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Copyright 2011 by Janet Cipolli. All Rights Reserved.
Janet invites you to follow her writing (button at top of page) or go to: http://fictionalseasons.blogspot.com/
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