The Lunchtime Special

Chapter 29 - Contrition

When I see from the board there are four flights to Sydney leaving between now and Mia's original departure time, I almost panic thinking she'll be gone without me having a chance to explain. The first of the four leaves in twenty-five minutes, so I practically sprint to the departure gate before it boards, holding my breath as I look through the crowd for her distinctively tall, willowy figure. Nada.

The gate for the second flight is only a short distance away, so I scan it then make my way to the third departure area, then the fourth, all to no avail. On my way back to the second, fully prepared to continue the circuit in hopes I'll find her somewhere, I look through the throng of people bustling through the terminal as well as peering briefly into each shop along the way. Still nothing, and now I'm beginning to sweat.

After two more circuits it occurs to me that I'm seeing a lot more school-aged children than usual and the penny drops that it must be school holidays. In that case, all the earlier flights may well have been booked solid...idiot! Why didn't I think of that sooner? I scrutinise the information board again to find the gate for her scheduled flight and make my way there, figuratively crossing my fingers and toes, only to uncross them again on a huge sigh of relief when I see the back of her in a seat near the window, the only one here more than two hours early for the flight. Her head is down and as I get closer I see she's engrossed in a book, but she also looks a little forlorn and my heart twists at having caused it. Nerves start fluttering in my belly and I curse myself for not having thought about what I should say; I'd been so busy concentrating on finding her that I've come to this moment completely unprepared. Gut instinct tells me to be honest and grovel.

"Mia, sweetheart, I'm so sorry," I murmur quietly as I take the seat next to her. She looks up, surprised, and the redness of her eyes make me feel like a total jerk. "I wasn't angry with you but I took my frustration out on you and I shouldn't have; I have no excuse other than being a total idiot. I was mad at my mother, but mostly I was angry at myself because you were put in that position and I wasn't there to protect you. I'm so, so sorry for being such an utter prat; I didn't mean to hurt your feelings." This close, surrounded by her scent and the heat from her body, I'm longing to touch her but am afraid to until she gives me a sign that I'm forgiven. I hold her gaze as she blinks, practically hearing her mind working while she takes in what I've said.

"I did lie to you though," she finally says, softly.

"Because you didn't want to cause bad feelings between my mother and I," I point out, my fingers yearning to sweep back a couple of strands of hair that have fallen over her face. "Which was sweet and thoughtful and I overreacted. I'm sorry. I know I'm saying that a lot right now, but I need you to know that I am, truly sorry." I'm back to holding my breath and the fluttering in my stomach intensifies as I wait for her reaction. My eyes lock on her face and I swallow as hers meet my gaze. "I'm so sorry," I manage to whisper. The seconds waiting for her response drag into centuries and I begin to feel desperate, flailing around in my mind for something, anything, else to say to convince her. A memory of a joke between us surfaces and words begin spilling from my mouth before I can reconsider. "I'm penitent...remorseful...guilt-ridden...ashamed...conscience-stricken..."

"Regretful...apologetic," she adds.

"Contrite," I confirm. "Full of self-reproach."

Running out of synonyms, I wait, a little more hopeful. Her eyes search my face a moment longer before creases at their corners and a slight twitch of her lips allow me to release some air from my lungs.

"Then you're pardoned...absolved...forgiven," she smiles as warmth floods me and I feel almost lightheaded.

"Thank Christ." I start to lean towards her, then stop. "May I kiss you now?" She closes her book and places it inside her bag then turns in the chair so she's facing me properly. A hand lifts and her fingers comb through my hair then trail softly down my face and over my jaw. When she runs soft fingertips over my lips it sends a tingling awareness down my spine and I shiver, goosebumps breaking out on my arms. "Mia..."

"Shhh," she whispers, then puts her mouth to mine.

---

The weekend after the wedding I stay in Perth, putting in extra hours to make up for the day I'd missed. The one after that, in spite of my hopes otherwise, I need to stay put as well, as the rest of my team are flying over from Melbourne and I have to bring them up to date on the job so far. Mia and I Facetime or Skype every day.

"You're sure you don't mind? I'm sorry to miss two in a row."

"It's your job; I understand. I don't expect you to drop everything and fly clear across the country to see me every weekend."

"I know you don't expect it, honey, but I want to. I miss your face."

"You see my mug every day," she points out with a grin. "Are you sure that's the part of my anatomy you're missing?"

"There are other parts of you that are pretty spectacular too, I must admit." I wiggle my eyebrows and try for a lecherous leer, loving the sound of the throaty chuckle she gives in response. "I'll make it up to you next weekend, I promise."

"Okay."

I know logically that part of her easy acceptance of my work commitments is the long hours she puts in herself, but it still makes my heart flip when she agrees so readily and happily. "I love you," I tell her softly.

Her smile turns from cheeky to tender. "I love you too."

An idea comes to mind. "Do you like sailing?"

Mia shakes her head. "Never been."

That surprises me. Sure, she lives in the mountains, but it's not that far to Sydney and all the water activities the harbour has to offer. "Never?" When she shakes again I'm determined to follow through on my idea. "Well, I'll just have to see what I can do about that. You and me, next weekend, beautiful."

"It's a date." Her grin is back and my mouth pulls up in response. She keeps me amused for the rest of our call with anecdotes from her day and I sigh after we've disconnected, thinking about how easily I could get used to waking up to that smile every morning.

When I go online to find a flight I'm dismayed to find my options for flying from Perth to Sydney are severely limited, time-wise; there's nothing between mid-afternoon and late evening. Eventually I book one that leaves at 11pm and gets in at 5am, arranging a hire car as well. By the time I arrive in the mountains Saturday morning, Mia will already be at work. For the return flight I have more luck, as the time difference will be working in my favour.

In the few spare minutes I have for lunch the following day, I ring a cousin who lives in Sydney and has a 34 ft cruiser that's a dream to sail. If my plan works out, I'll be able to give Mia a day on the harbour that will be an experience to remember.

"Jeez mate, I only saw you a couple of weeks ago; I'm not missing your ugly mug yet," he greets me. Jason was at Laila's wedding and I'd introduced him to Mia; when I explain why I'm calling he generously agrees. "Sure, buddy, not a problem. We'll be out in her on Saturday so I'll make sure everything's shipshape for you." With not much to catch up on since we last saw each other, it's a short call and then I get stuck back into work, looking forward to my weekend with Mia more than ever.