Mystery man

 Page 40 in the series Before the Pirates Came*

Miranda stayed awake all night, too excited to sleep.  She didn’t want to be late for the first leg of her journey, a 39 minute flight from Traverse City to Detroit.

She left the Charlevoix Boat Basin at dawn, eager to be out of the cold for a while.  It was a beautiful day, the roads were dry, and freshly plowed snow bordered the highway.  She followed the arrow to long-term parking at the Cherry Capital Airport, checked her bag, tipped the porter, and passed through security.  Miranda quickly arrived at Detroit Metro where she would board a non-stop flight to Palm Beach International Airport.  

She stepped out of the jetway and walked until she found a set of monitors.  Her flight was  on time.  There was a bar up ahead.  A cheesy neon martini glass indicated the pub was already open for business.  She had plenty of time but couldn’t chance it.  Lately it felt like something wasn’t quite right.  She was restless and agitated, like a top that wouldn’t stop spinning.   Miranda was craving relief. 

She glanced again at the bar, men in suits heading in for a quick one.  She was probably just tense from life on the dock– the blizzard, late nights, the mysterious chain smoker whose identity was still unknown.  Miranda decided that all she needed was some rest, and that’s exactly what she would do once she got settled.  The airport bar was calling.   She would have a drink on the plane, then figure out the rest when she got there.  At least that was the plan.

“Like a thornbush in a drunkard’s hand is a proverb in the mouth of a fool.”  Proverbs 26:9 (NIV) 

Almost to her gate, she spotted a wall of beautiful glossy magazines, the ones she stopped reading when she moved aboard her boat.  While there wasn’t much need for couture on the dock, she would definitely be doing some shopping in Palm Beach.  Miranda looked at her watch, ducked into the crowded newstand, and grabbed a copy of Vogue and Marie Claire.  She held them close and smiled–they had that new magazine smell.

She paid the man at the counter, careful to hold onto her wallet.  Harry always warned her that airports are a prime place to be robbed, and most important– never to carry too much cash.

Miranda carefully put away her wallet.  She spun around to leave and walked right into the person in line behind her.  When she saw his face she couldn’t believe it:  It was the man in the navy blue blazer! He was even more handsome than the night she saw him across the bar at Tommy’s Gotcha, the night before she left Traverse City for good. But now, instead of a nice Merlot, he was holding a thick stack of newspapers, the Wall Street Journal on top.

He was soft-spoken and polite, said “excuse me” as if it was his fault.  Pressed up against him, she was at loss for words. Her cheeks turned red and she could feel herself beginning to sweat under the weight of her faded Michigan State sweatshirt.  It was a bad time to be dressed like a guy!  

Fortunately Miranda was having a good hair day, and her carefully applied Nars Jungle Red lipstick looked pretty good, too.  She met his glance, tried to smile.  The man in the navy blue blazer touched her arm and said, “Hello, Miranda.”  She blinked hard, looked at her watch, and hurried through the crowd and out of his sight.  One mysterious stranger in her life was enough.

Her old cowboy boots went click-click-clicking past the shoe shine man, the Martini bar, and a frozen yogurt kiosk.  She arrived at her gate with just minutes to spare. Miranda resisted the urge to look back.   Don’t do it, don’t do it!   Then she looked back anyway. The man in the navy blue blazer was standing in the middle of the concourse watching her. 

“Teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom.”  Psalm 90:12 (NIV)

*This story is based on some true events, however, has been fictionalized and all persons appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real people, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

© 2012, Shoes for an Imaginary Life. All rights reserved.

This entry was posted in About Him, About me, Bipolar girl. Bookmark the permalink.

11 Responses to Mystery man

  1. Ann says:

    Hi Linda

    Thanks for turning the page :-)

    I have no clue where this will go, so I will sit on the edge of my chair and wait for the next page. lol.

    I am concerned for Miranda, though. Hopefully he won’t end up in the seat next to her.

    Blessings,
    ann

    • Linda says:

      The man in the navy blue blazer. Good angel or bad. The answer will shock you.

      Here’s the thing. The entire story (so far) takes about two hours to read straight through. The blue blazer man appeard once, before the winter boating adventure. But by posting a page every three days, there’s no way a reader could remember what they read clear back in November. It might make more sense as a little ebook, in the Spirituality/Recovery category. That’s for God to decide.

  2. Larry Who says:

    “…Her old cowboy boots went click-click-clicking past the shoe shine man, the Martini bar, and a frozen yogurt kiosk…”

    That’s my favorite sentence. It creates scenes in my mind which an author must do in order to be successful.

    So, click-click-clinking aside, I’m ready. Let’s turn the page.

    • Linda says:

      Oh. My. Gosh.

      That is such an awesome compliment. ‘Cause I love reading your stuff too, as you know.

      After my bedtime prayers, I will drift off thinking about possibilities. Thank you. : )

  3. Debbie says:

    Miranda can’t seem to keep from attracting mysterious men! My heart is thumping for her in beat to her clicking boots. God bless you and your heart for Him, that always shines through everything you write and do! love and prayers!

    • Linda says:

      That girl is a dunce, but I’m thinking about a scary poem that comes next. Looking back, I wonder how God can have the patience in the face of such bad behavior without ever giving up, even on a hopeless case.

      Do you ever wonder why He wanted you? I spent the first year just tossing that around in wonder.

      In Miranda’s tale, I love finding my verses and I’m spending time reading my Bible in a new way. It’s been good for me. Thanks for your prayers… been a crazy week! : )

  4. Theresa says:

    I felt like a young girl when I read this…it made me glad that I could still feel that way. I know Miranda is a young woman at this time and somewhat lost, but you give us…give me a glimpse of…feelings that come from that person deep inside each of us regardless of circumstance…that soul that is precious in the Lord’s sight…even at those times that we could never believe that.

    Hugs,
    Theresa

  5. Jan says:

    If Miranda is going shopping, please please please take us along! I’ve never had the shopping gene or the fashion gene, and would love to see how she shops, and what she buys.

    • Linda says:

      Miranda buys things to feel better about herself. Then she’s let down. She’s about to pay for her Worth Ave. indulgence big time, so stay tuned.

      For friends reading this comment: You MUST read Jan’s post, “Cruise Control.” It is God at work in such a profound and clear way, it will bring joy to your heart. ; )

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