New York’s Kennedy Airport was as busy as it’s always been. Travis stood in the lobby looking out the window, wishing he had brought a heavier coat along when he left for Miami on Monday. He had called Me’shelle from Miami and told her that he would be arriving at 7:35 that evening. Me’shelle promised to be there to meet him in the baggage claim area. Now it was steadily approaching 9:00 and there was no sign of her.
Several times he’d considered calling Ronnie or Jackie to come get him, but he didn’t want to call them and have Me’shelle pull up right after he hung up the phone. Besides, it was only Me’shelle that he wanted to see. Travis checked his messages both at home and on his cell phone to see if Me’shelle had left a message, which she hadn’t.
After two hours of creeping along, traffic on the Van Wyck Express finally broke loose. This was one of the few times that Me’shelle regretted not having a cell phone. She knew that Travis was probably standing outside waiting for her to get there. Or maybe he had given up on her and called somebody else to pick him up, and was sitting at home that very minute. She drove just a little faster than she normally would in an attempt to get there that much quicker. Not that it would make much difference now. By the time she got there, she would be almost two hours late.
While she was stuck, creeping alone in gridlock traffic, she thought about the conversation she had with Travis the night before. She’d meant what she said about taking it slow with him. If that was the case, why did she agree to come to the airport to pick him up? He could have just as easily gotten somebody else to come for him. She understood why he would want her to; he was trying to get with her. But it was her own reasoning that momentarily escaped her. The answer was simple: she was tired of being alone, and she wanted to see him.
Me’shelle looked in the rear view mirror. So, you can talk that ‘take it slow with Travis’ shit all you want to, but you and I know what’s goin’ on. And that is where my soliloquy ends.
When she rolled up on the terminal at 9:30, Travis was walking toward the cabstand. What is he doing out here without a heavier coat? Me’shelle slammed on her brakes and jumped out of the car. “Travis!”
He turned around and saw her waving her arms wildly. He smiled a satisfied smiled and started walking quickly toward her car. Me’shelle opened up the trunk then quickly got back in the car. Knowing he’d be cold, she turned the heat up just a bit more.
Travis threw his bags in the trunk and took out the box he had for Me’shelle. He closed the trunk and got in the car. “Hello, Me’shelle,” said a very cold Travis.
“Well hello, mister island man.”
“Thanks for coming to get me, Me’shelle.”
“I’m sorry I’m so late. Traffic getting here was terrible. Major accident.”
“I thought you had forgotten about me or flat out changed your mind about coming to get me.”
“I wouldn’t do you like that. I’m a woman of my word,” Me’shelle answered as she drove off. “Are you hungry?”
“Starving.”
“What do you have a taste for?”
Travis looked at Me’shelle. He wanted to say “You.”
“I was thinking about Italian,” he said.
“I know a place that has the best Italian food in the world,” Me’shelle said.
“Really? What’s it called?”
“Mario’s.”
“On Arthur Ave. I know the place, and yeah, the food is good there.”
Traffic on the way back to the Bronx was just as heavy as it was coming. The long ride gave them time to talk. Me’shelle asked about his trip, and Travis told her about everything he did in the Caymans. He did, however, leave out the part about Veronica in the pool the night before. Then Me’shelle asked Travis the inevitable question. “Do you have a girlfriend?”
“No,” was Travis’s simple and quick answer.
“Okay. Since I know how you men are, I’ll rephrase my question and ask it again.” Me’shelle smiled and Travis smiled back. “Are you currently having sex with anybody?”
Travis considered his answer before opening his mouth. “Currently, no,” was his answer. “What about you, Me’shelle? Are you dating somebody now?” he asked before she could get out the next question.
“No, Travis, I am not dating or having sex with anybody.”
“Why not?” Travis asked quickly.
“The last guy I was dating decided that we should see other people.”
“You mean he wanted to see other people.”
Me’shelle smiled. “Exactly.”
“Which is why you want to take your time with me. You want to make sure that I’m not the same kind of asshole.”
“You are so smart,” Me’shelle said. “Now, tell me what ‘currently no’ means. Oh, you didn’t think that I forgot that gem of an answer, did you?”
“No, Me’shelle, I know you’re too sharp to let one slip by you.”
“So, why’d you try it?”
“Just to see.”
“And the answer is?”
“I’m not currently having sex with anybody, because I decided to stop seeing the woman I was having sex with. I didn’t think it was going anywhere,” Travis answered.
“How come? Sex wasn’t good?”
“No, the sex was good, but that’s all there was. You know what I’m sayin’? I mean, we’d talk when it was necessary, but mostly we’d talk about having sex.”
“If that’s all there was, then why did you keep seeing her?”
“I don’t know if you know this about men, but we’ll go through a lot of things we normally wouldn’t for good sex.”
“You men are so shallow like that,” Me’shelle said and rolled her eyes.
“I guess you’re sayin’ that women aren’t like that?”
“No, that’s not what I’m sayin’. I know women who will jump though some flaming hoops for some good dick. Excuse my French. But not all of us are like that. If a woman has a good man and the sex ain’t that great, she’ll stay with him because he’s a good man.”
“But then she’ll creep on him with the guy with the good dick. Excuse my French.”
“Touche.”
It was after 11:00 by the time they reached the Whitestone Bridge. Since it was going to be too late for Mario’s, Travis asked Me’shelle to take him straight home. He’d pick up a couple of slices from a place around the way. Once they got to Travis’s house, he turned on some music.
“That’s what I missed the most while I was gone.”
“What’s that?”
“Jazz.”
“Who are we listening to?” Me’shelle asked with a bit of a frown on her face.
“Wes Montgomery,” Travis replied proudly as he sat down at the dining room table and prepared to eat his pizza.
“Never heard of him.”
“He’s on guitar. I take it you don’t really like jazz.”
“Some of it’s okay. I mean, like Kenny Gee, David Sanborn, stuff like that. But this is-I don’t know.”
“This is real music. Guys like Miles Davis, John Coltrane, Thelonious Monk, Horace Silver, these guys put their whole heart and soul into their music. Kenny Gee wishes he could play the sax like Coltrane.”
Me’shelle laughed. “If you say so. I guess I’d have to hear some.”
“Stick around and you will,” Travis said. “I almost forgot.” He went and got the small box out of his pocket. He returned to the table and handed the box to Me’shelle. “This is for you.”
Me’shelle looked at the box and knew it was jewelry. She opened the box. “Travis, it’s beautiful.” The necklace Travis bought her was platinum with a half-carat diamond. “Is this the little souvenir you said you were bringing me?”
“Yup,” Travis said with his mouth full of pizza. “Do you like it?”
“Yes, it’s beautiful. Thank you so much. How did you know I love platinum?”
“I didn’t. I just thought it would look beautiful on you.”
“When you said you were bringing me a souvenir, you know, I was expecting a T-shirt with some stupid sayin’ on it or a bag of sand or whatever.”
Travis got up, took the necklace from Me’shelle and put it on for her. “I was right. It does look beautiful on you.”
“I don’t think the words ‘you shouldn’t have’ are enough for this, Travis. How much did this cost?”
“A gentleman never tells.”