She had left her coffee cup on James’ table and he was tempted to drink from it, if just to taste her lips one more time. He picked the cup up and carried it to his kitchen and placed it in the sink. He sighed and leaned his arms forward against the edge of the sink. He stood there for a moment reveling in this long forgotten happiness. He smiled. He had smiled so much through the previous night as she sat next to him. He couldn’t help himself. Now his cheeks seemed sore, but happily so. He hadn’t felt the sensation of being wanted, or told that he had feelings that mattered, that were valid, in such a very long time.
He could barely remember the last time a woman made him feel like he was worthwhile. He tried to remember the last woman to put a true smile on his face. There was just something about the way she looked at him that made him feel warm, safe, confident, honest and like a man should when loved. She was confidently sexy but not arrogant about it. She responded to James’ touch and he responded to hers. James felt something stir in him as they kissed. Something that had been dormant for so very long and he thought he could feel it from her, through her, as if she had been missing it inside herself too.
James returned to the window and sat down. He heard cars and trucks rumbling down the street. He heard the horns and sirens, the distant clacking of the train, bells tolling somewhere, but he could not hear any airplanes. He looked up toward the sky, hoping for a glimpse, some twinkling in the sun from that flying aluminum tube. James laughed to himself for being so silly and mushy about it. So what if he could see or hear her plane flying overhead? What would he do about it? He’d just sigh a little deeper and remember his arm around her as they lightly slept in his bed before she left. He’d romanticize the littlest details of their time together and then fret about what she might (or not) be thinking about him.
He wondered what effect he’d had on her, did he reach her, and did she know how much she’d done for him just by holding his hand for a short while? She made him remember that he did have value, and that he could be found attractive by an intelligent and sexy woman. He wasn’t an undesirable. She’d helped him remember what it was like to want to take care of someone. She made him feel wanted. He loved her for that.
A car skidded to a hard stop at the near-by stoplight. Someone tooted a horn. James looked down toward the street to see two red faced men yelling at each other through rolled up car windows. Overhead a plane glinted in the sun.