Christmas In New York

Meeting Him

The guy sitting on the plane next to me is terrified. Like really really terrified. Breathing heavy, bouncing leg. I'm pretty sure he is going to wear holes in the armrest.

My first instinct is to comfort him. But then I'm barely able to comfort myself these days. So, I look outside the window and try to ignore him.

He apparently has other plans.

"Can I ask you a favour?" I hear his voice from beside me.

Is he talking to me?

I turn and his brown eyes meet mine. He smells like Christmas cookies.

"Sure, What's up?"

He wipes the sweat on his brow and says, "I have this fear of flying, and I think I'd feel better if I could see out of the window. Do you mind switching places?"

He looks nervous as if he thinks I would say no. But, I don't care if he wants to change seats. In fact, I don't really care about much these days.

"No, I don't mind." My voice comes out breathy.

He blows out a relieved breath, "Thank you so much... um?"

"Amy."

He nods and quickly repeats, "Amy, thank you. I'm Josh."

What should have been a simple seat swap takes a bit longer than necessary. He is a large well-built guy, and I have to manoeuvre around a huge backpack full of Christmas cookies at his feet.

That explains the smell.

Just as I settled into my new seat, I heard his deep voice again, "Want one?"

I looked up to see him holding out a tree shaped cookie.

"No thanks"

"Come on, as a thank you. They are the airport brand, but still good."

I shake my head. I don't want anything to do with Christmas this year. Not even one delicious smelling cookie.

I close my eyes and he seems to get the hint. But then I hear him again when we are about to take off. Looks like he is mumbling to himself.

"The odds of being in a plane crash are one in one million."

The plane starts to pick up speed. My eyes are still closed, but I can feel the tension radiating off him.

"Over eight million people fly every day," he reassures himself when the plane leaves the ground.

His breathing gets heavier and then, he does the last thing I expected him to do. He holds my hand and squeezes. The contact sending a jolt through me. Not because he is a stranger, but because I haven't been touched by anyone in over three months.

Not since my parents died. After their funeral, I had completely isolated myself. And his touch is making me realize how lonely I am.

Suddenly I feel overwhelmed. My breathing gets heavy, and my face scrunches as I try to hold back tears.

This is my first Christmas without them. And since spending it alone at home would have been a torture, I went to the airport this morning and bought a ticket across the country.

So, now, here I am. On my way to New York. Far, far away from the painful memories.

Josh suddenly lets go of my hand "I'm sorry. I didn't hurt you, did I?"

My eyes spring open and I look at him "What?"

He motions toward my face and says "You look like you're in pain. Did I squeeze your hand too hard?"