The trip to the airport wasn’t too bad, since it was a weekend and there wasn’t much traffic. My husband drove, and I let my mind wander, and of course it wandered right to Ryan. I sat and watched out of the window, dreaming of how Ryan might have changed. I imagined what our reunion at the airport would be like: I began to resent My husband being there to interfere with our reacquainting.
I began to imagine that I would see him first as he came off the plane, I imagined that I ran to him, at which point he would see me and get a smile on his face. He would hold his arms out wide and I would run into them. He would hug me fiercely, squeezing all the air out of me as he kissed me, right on the mouth. Then he would swing me around in his arms, gently land me on my feet, then let go of me a little so he could get a good look at me. He would say, “Mom, you’re even more beautiful than I remember.”
Of course, I knew it was a little over the top, it was way too romantic, too intimate. Ryan would never greet me that way, and even if he would, my husband would flip! But how would I react? Would I really want Ryan to hug me and kiss me that way? Probably not, I told myself. In reality, I would have a coronary too. But it was nice to think about.
As we got closer to the airport my mind pushed the fantasy a little deeper… After saying that I was more beautiful than he remembered, Ryan would kiss me again, and slowly slide his hands up and down my back. I would feel his tongue against my lips and I would open my mouth, take it in, and gently suck on it. And Rob, my husband, instead of suddenly dying, would be standing there watching us and smiling, proud of how easy it was for our son to demonstrate his love for his mother.
Ryan would french-kiss me and caress me for a minute, then reluctantly break the kiss and whisper in my ear, “I can’t wait to get you alone,” and I would smile shyly, knowing what he meant. Then he would embrace me again, hold me close to his strong hard body, and I would feel his erection pressing against me…
“That’s enough of that,” I told myself. I picked up my cell phone and shut out the fantasy as I forced myself to change my thoughts.
We finally got to the airport and parked near the terminal. “Only six more minutes,” I told Rob, barely able to restrain my anticipation. I actually bounced up and down on my toes.
Rob just stared at me for a moment before he sat down in blue plastic chairs bolted to the
floor.
Rob patted the one next to him and said, “Sit down, dear.”
“I can’t,” I said. “I’m too excited.”
I started wandering around the waiting area, crossing and uncrossing my arms, or moving them up and down like big slow wings. I stopped doing that, though, when I accidentally hit a guy in the side of the head. He looked at me like I was a total asshole and I apologized, then he let his eyes rove down to my boobs and he half smiled and said, “That’s okay, dear.” The guy was my dad’s age and obviously a perv, but I didn’t care. I was too excited.