Thank you Douglas that's more then enough. Don't apply it too thickly. Allow me to keep some of my dignity.
"Right. Listen, I don't want to be late for my plane, but I did want to call and apologize."
"I appreciate that a great deal, Mr. King. I look forward to hearing from you or Toby. Have a good flight."
Nathan nodded his head, realized that the man couldn't see him and started to say goodbye, but stopped when he realized he had already hit the end key. Oh well, he was quite certain Douglas would live without a goodbye from him.
He let out a long, low sigh and rubbed at his temples with his free hand before turning his attention back to the phone. He began to flip through the contacts until he hit on the entry for Toby Richards and then pressed the call button.
Nathan let his eyes roam across the masses of people. In the far corner a young teen couple, who were either oblivious to the rest of the world or simply didn't give a damn, were making out. A little over a year ago Nathan would have completely understood how the world could simply seem to melt away. The Nathan who stood there now looking at the young lovers was willing to give two-to-one odds on just don't give a damn. Looking away, his eyes stopped briefly on an older woman dragging a screaming child by the hand. He looked further down the concourse, taking in everything but not really seeing any of it. It was just like a dozen other airports he'd been in through the years. It did not seem to matter which state or country, the same people or close facsimiles always seemed to be there, constantly coming and going.
"Toby Richards here," came a familiar voice through the phone.
Nathan blinked, then shivered slightly as a chill danced its way down his spine.
"Hello? Anyone there?" came the voice again.
He could feel his heart thundering in his chest. The voice from the phone, the noise of the concourse, from the entire world around him sounded muddled, distant, drowned out by the deafening roar of the blood rushing in his head.
"Hello!" The agitation in the voice apparent.
His chest burned. He had a brief thought flutter through his mind, the first he'd had since his eyes had happened upon her, that he might be having a heart attack. He finally exhaled, more by reflex than any conscious thought, and drew in a deep breath of fresh air. He felt the burning in his chest subside.
He was vaguely aware of hearing the sound of a phone being slammed down. It took him three swipes to get his phone back into his jacket pocket. He refused to take his eyes off of her. He'd done that before and she had always disappeared.
Yes, this had happened to him before. It had happened relatively frequently right after the funeral, but he had believed that those episodes were long over. It had been well over six months since the last time. It always seemed to happen the same way. Certainly different locations, but the basic experience always seemed to be the same. He would be someplace crowded like a grocery store, the mall, the airport, what have you and his mind would invariably wander to some memory of her. And why not? She was never far from his thoughts, never had been since the day he'd met her. She would simply appear. No, that wasn't completely accurate. It wasn't as if she would appear out of thin air, but somehow she would be there. A crowd would part and he'd see her or he'd turn a corner and see her walking down the aisle of a store. He'd run after her and she would simply vanish or worse he would get to her, always from behind, reach for her and turn her towards him only to find he was looking into the face of a startled stranger. The first time had been devastating. He knew that nothing would ever allow him to forget the pitied looks he had received from the crowd that gathered around him when he'd burst into tears in the local Barnes&Noble. The poor woman he'd grabbed had cried with him and though he had never explained anything to her, never said more than thank you when she'd hugged him and kissed him gently on the cheek when he'd finally composed himself, he believed she'd known. Known and understood. Perhaps she had suffered the same loss. Perhaps it was a kind of pain that was just universal.
It was because of those episodes that had happened that he now refused to look away, tried not to even blink. She hadn't disappeared this time, not yet anyway, and if he didn't look away then maybe she wouldn't.
She stopped and looked up at the signs for the gates, glanced quickly at her watch, then turned and hurried off down the concourse moving further away from Nathan. It was her moving away that finally spurred him into action. She was moving away and if he stayed there then she would be out of his sight in seconds, so he risked moving and a miraculous thing occurred. She didn't disappear, then a group of travelers blocked his view and for a split second he feared that she had and felt the echoes of the crushing pain and consuming despair he'd known so well. A flash of fear passed through him that he was about to have a breakdown right on the spot, but then the group moved on and she reappeared, just as she'd been from the moment he'd spotted her. Same clothing, same suitcase still being dragged along behind her. She wasn't going to disappear this time, but if he didn't move quickly then he would lose her just the same.