Old Brown Eyes

Come Fly To Me

From that day on, things went by in an excited blur of tender phone calls and Sinatra's music. It was during this time that Rich introduced me to Bobby Darin. Of course I knew him as the guy who sang splish splash; I mean, who couldn't know who Bobby Darin was?

However, I began to see why Rich used to say that if Sinatra was the king, Bobby was the prince. On the day we booked my ticket, Rich sent me several YouTube links with songs he wanted me to listen to. I immediately fell in love with Bobby's rendition of Beyond the Sea and Dream Lover. Rich said he had met Kevin Spacey at the New York premiere of Beyond the Sea, the biopic of Bobby Darin's life, and that he was a delightful person.

I have to admit, I was a little overwhelmed. This guy had been everywhere, seen everything, met everybody it seemed. What on earth did he see in a small town country girl who barely been out of her own state? I have never met anyone important, never traveled anywhere spectacular or even had that many great experiences. My life up until this point had been exceedingly dull and uneventful with the exception of my failed marriage and the miraculous birth of my daughter, Emma. I counted her the highlight of my life.

But for some reason, Rich was thoroughly enchanted with me. He constantly asked questions about things I liked, about Emma, and increasingly the conversations grew more and more intimate.

"I don't understand how any woman could choose a substance over you," I told him once when he explained to me how his second marriage had failed because his wife, Sandy, couldn't give up her drug habit.

"I don't see how a guy could turn his back on such an adorably cute kid as your daughter," he commented when I told him about my divorce and how I had nothing to do with Emma's father since he walked out on us when she was four months old. "I always wished for kids. But, it just never was in the cards for me."

I sensed his sadness and also knew there was a story there but I didn't press him for more information. Rich forwarded me the email containing my boarding passes for the flights to and from Philadelphia. He explained that he would meet me when I landed in Philadelphia at the restaurant in the Marriott hotel at the airport. I was giddy when the email came through. It was titled: Come Fly to Me. I grinned at the paraphrasing of the popular Sinatra song.

And so, it was set in stone. I was going to board a plane for the first time in my life and fly eight hundred miles away to meet a man I had never seen in person. Some people said I was crazy for doing it, but in my heart, I knew this was going to be the beginning of something very, very special indeed.

***
I called him that morning as I was leaving my house for the airport in Atlanta.

"Come fly to me, come fly, let's fly away," he answered the phone singing in a near perfect impression of Sinatra. "Although," he said, returning to his own persona, "I'm not so sure about the booze in far Bombay. I'm not exactly allowed to drink with these new blood thinners I'm on."

I giggled. "I have a feeling we're not going to need any booze to have fun with each other."

Rich groaned. "Where are you? Why aren't you here yet?"

"Patience, Yankee boy," I teased. "I'll be there in just a few hours."

"God, I can hardly wait," he grumbled, and I could hear the barely concealed desire in his voice.

As it turned out, it was more than just a few hours. I had just boarded the plane in Atlanta on time and we had begun our taxi down the runway. I was sitting between two businessmen who were loudly arguing and cussing amongst themselves, but I didn't care. I had my earbuds in and was listening to Sinatra and Darin and thinking about how in a little while I'd be actually putting my arms around Rich's neck.