The Teacher

The Teacher: Part III Day of Declaration, Chapter 59

CHAPTER 59

I COULDN'T BELIEVE IT! Antonio was the last person I ever expected to see. When I checked his Facebook page a few weeks earlier, yes, Facebook was back up and running and as popular as ever, he was at the Vatican attending meetings designed to shape the much-needed reforms that would serve the new Catholic Church in the Kingdom Age. His postings never mentioned a thing about coming to America.

"Antonio...are you ever a sight for tired eyes, but whatever on earth brings you to the Midwest, much less MichiganStateUniversity, and on Halloween?" I was only too curious to know.

"I'm actually here to get you, but we can talk about that later. Right now I want to catch up—what's been going on with you, since you don't update your Facebook page much. Let's go in. I've got a table at the coffee shop and a hot white chocolate mocha waiting for you—still you're favorite I hope?"

"You remembered...that's right, I always ordered one at that corner Palestinian café in Tel Aviv where we used to meet. Sure, then, let's go in," I replied, bundling up my coat collar and lifting up my hood to brace against the sting of wind-driven sleet that had just kicked up.

Walking to the MSU Union's Biggby's coffee shop, my mind was racing, trying to answer the question, what was it that Antonio needed me for? I hadn't been with anyone since Holden, not that I had the time, energy, or inclination to worry about relationships given what was going on in my life, but if anyone, it certainly could be Antonio. His Mediterranean rugged good looks, chiseled Roman nose, raven-black curly hair, and irresistible Italian charm had me flushed more than once while spending time together in Israel, but I was quite sure he didn't fly from Rome to Detroit just to ask me out on a date.

My mocha was still steaming as we sat down.

"I better find my contact here before we settle into our chat. I'm already late for the appointment time we agreed on," I mentioned to Antonio.

"Oh, don't worry. Megan is her name, she met me at the airport, drove me here, there's no rush, and I know just where to go, up to the third floor Lake Huron conference room...when we're done here," Antonio replied, easing my angst over keeping yet another speaking engagement on a hectic schedule that had me in a constant state of sleep-deprived exhaustion. Besides that, my beloved vintage VW van, adapted to run on used cooking oil, was on the verge of finally being put out to the quiet, still pasture of an auto parts junk yard.

What did the old King James Bible say, "Sufficient unto the day are the trials therein?" I survived by taking that wisdom to heart, one day at a time. After a comforting, warm, sweet sip of my frothy White Ghostly Mocha, accented with a touch of almond extract, I relaxed enough to let Antonio start the conversation without diving right in to pester him about why he was in Michigan.

"Fallon...so, how have things been going for you since you got back to the States? Have you met anyone yet? Are you having any fun? I always did worry about you back in Tel Aviv," Antonio began, his deep azure Italian eyes distracting me to the point where I had to ask him to repeat the question.

"Well, no, I'm still on my own, but hardly lonely. In fact, sometimes I wish I was living on the top of a mountain somewhere far away from everyone and everything. I think I understand now why the Apostle Paul recommended not getting married if your life was dedicated to spreading the Gospel, not that I hope to be celibate for the rest of my life," I replied, not wanting to close a door if in fact Antonio might actually have a thing for me.

"Life is finally starting to get back to normal in Italy, but like you, I've just been too busy traveling to even think about settling down," he shared, at least hinting that he wasn't already taken.