Quarantine Stories

“You’ll be fine they assured me, just get in, close the deal and you’ll be home in no time,” Andrea had said.

I was dumb enough to believe her. Ignoring the media, and the risks I got on the plane and flew to Detroit to close this deal. There was a lot of money on the table, if one of the big automakers picked up our computer programs for their automation line, it would be a big win for our company. Also, when the Vice President of the company singles you out to go, you go. At the time, my apprehension about going just seemed like paranoia. Andrea was smart. The plan was to get in and out, with a signed deal. God, I was so stupid.

I have been stuck in this hotel room, quarantined for the past three weeks. When I got here, I felt a little under the weather, but I pushed on, thinking it was a cold. When I got to my meeting most of the board members who I would meet with had declined to come, due to the pandemic. A wasted trip I thought to myself. I went back to my hotel and decided to sleep off whatever I was coming down with, it never dawned on my I had caught the virus. I woke the next morning feeling even worse. I always carried a small kit with me, of a fever reducer, a thermometer, antacid etc., like a travelling medicine cabinet. I took my temperature which was high, 103. I took fever reducer and went back to bed; I was so sick I didn’t care to eat.

I was awoken late in the afternoon by loud knock at my door. I got up still feeling unwell and answered the door.

“Miss Lannert, are you alright, you missed check out? We’ve been trying to reach you by phone.”

I tried to piece time together, I didn’t check out until the next day. I was confused.

“What day is today?”

“It’s Thursday, March 15^th. Are you okay Miss Lannert?”

I had slept for almost thirty-six hours straight. I was so confused.

“I’m sorry I’m unwell. Can I book the room for another night?”

“Of course. We have a hotel doctor, I can have him come and help you if you’d like?”

The panic on the hotel manager’s face said it all, I was in trouble, healthwise. Normally, I would decline but I simply shook my head affirming to send the doctor, and closed the door, crawling back into the bed. I couldn’t remember the last time I had been so ill.

The next time I woke, there was a man standing above me, with salt and pepper hair and a face mask on. Normally, I’d startle but I was too sick to care. He introduced himself as a doctor for the hotel and performed a cursory exam, stating that he thought I had come down with the virus that more than half of the country had.

“I’d send you to the hospital but they’re beyond capacity. I can start an IV here, and see if a bed opens up for you at the hospital, in the meantime we’ll monitor you closely from here. I need to know if you are experiencing any shortness of breath, blurred vision, or numbness in yours extremities. The gentleman next to you is ill as well, we will see which one of you goes first. Have you been in contact with anyone who you think might have the virus?”

I nodded I had not. He asked more questions, confirming his suspicions that I had the virus. With a lack of tests, and them being slow to provide results, neither of us pressed the issue. I scribbled my name across a consent form and he started an iv.

Before he left, he told me a nurse would be by to help look after me and the gentleman in the room next to me, but if I had any trouble breathing to call 911. I could barely keeps my eyes open and was asleep again before the doctor left my room. I woke in the late afternoon, feeling better than I had in days. My I.V. bag was almost gone, and all I could think was that the fluids had to have helped. I sat upright, like I was waking from a trance. I reached over from my phone, seeing all of the missed calls from my roommate Becky, work, and my parents. I didn’t want to worry anyone, I needed to think about what to say without terrifying them. I texted my roommate, then called into work, which exhausted me. I would wait to call my parents when I sounded stronger.

The next two days were a blur, as I slowly improved. I don’t think the fear of my condition helped any. On the fifth day of my illness, my fever broke, much to my relief. I began eating again, and slowly started to feel better. The hotel had been wonderful, making sure I was cared for and I was truly grateful, albeit terrified of my situation. After a week down, I finally felt well enough to get up and move around my room a little. I finally called my family and told them what was happening, as I hoped the worst had passed. I was still weak, but grateful to be on the mend.

That night as I laid in bed, the hotel seemed quieter than usual. At dinner, the nurse had come and removed my IV. I was grateful to have it out, needles had always creeped me out. Despite being exhausted, I found sleep eluded me. I tossed and turned, longing for my own bed at home, but even if I was well enough to travel, I wouldn’t have wanted to go home and infect my roommate, who was still healthy, thankfully. I heard a soft noise I couldn’t quite make out, I listened again, and it seemed familiar but I still could not name it. The noise was coming from the room next to me. I got up and listened, it was the noise was of a man crying. There was something about the noise of it that hollowed out my soul. I knew he was ill too, but I didn’t know much beyond that. I wanted to help but I wasn’t sure what to do. I knocked gently on the wall. He quieted, and I hoped my intentions had not been misconstrued. I wasn’t asking him to be quiet, it was my way of letting him know someone else was here. I pressed my ear against the wall and heard him still crying quietly.

The hotel was old but renovated and it still had a door that connected our rooms. I knocked again on it, not sure if I was nuts or not.

“Are you okay?” I called out softly.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” He called out in return.

“It’s okay, do you need anything?”

The question seemed absurd, I was barely out of bed myself, what could I possibly offer a complete stranger. I pushed my ear against the door and listened, but heard nothing. I waited and listened, hearing only the sound of my battled breathing. Eventually I climbed back into bed, but the situation left me uneasy. I rolled over and dialed 568, the room next door, never expecting it to work. The phone rang and a man’s voice croaked,

“Hello?” he asked weakly, then coughed.

I regretted my boldness. This was a mistake, the guy next door was a stranger but, I was in it now.

“Hello, hi, I’m in the room next door.”

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“No, I wasn’t calling for that. I couldn’t sleep. I just wanted to see if you were okay?”

“It’s weird, this illness, isn’t it? At first you can’t sleep enough, so tired, and then you can’t sleep to save your life.”

I let out a small laugh, he was right.

“Yeah, I think I’ve reached that phase, I am on day 10. How about you?”

There was a pause, and I instantly feared I had crossed some unspoken line in our conversation.

“I am on day 11 or 12 I think, I couldn’t tell you really. The days at the beginning are sort of a blur.”

“Yeah, I have never been that sick in my whole life.”

“Hey, I don’t want this to come out wrong, but thank you for calling. This is so lonely being stuck in this hotel room alone, away from home, ill. It’s,” he paused, “It’s scarry, you know?”

“I do. I’m here on business.”

“Me too, where from? You don’t have to answer that if you don’t want to.”

“I’m in from California, I work for a tech company. You?”

“I’m in from New York. I think I came down with this on the plane. Had I know I was ill before I left, I would’ve never left.”

“Same here. What do you do for a living?”

“I’m a lawyer, corporate law. Thank you for calling, it was very kind of you.”

“We’re all doing our best to survive this, you know?”

“I do. Tell me something good, something happy.”

His breath was more labored from the conversation, and I knew he was getting tired, because I was too. I didn’t know what to tell a complete stranger, so I chose the only thing we both shared in common.

“My I.V. came out today.”

“Thanks for that. That is good news. I hope mine comes out tomorrow. Thank you for calling, it was sweet.”

“You’re welcome, 568.”

“568?”

“It’s your room number, 568. I didn’t get your name.”

“Ah, clever. It’s John.”

“It was nice to meet you John, I am Isabell. Sleep well.”

“You too Isabell. Call if you need anything in return.

Over the next week, John and I spoke nightly. He was the only person I knew that shared this experience with me, thankfully. His voice on the phone became something I looked forward to, beyond the endless hours of television. I was well enough to work for short periods of time, but I found that I tired easily. John confirmed he was experiencing the same symptoms. We were both quarantined along with most of the 5^th floor for the next month. I was desperate to return home, but I also understood that I could still be infectious, and knew it was best to stay put.

We had spoken a lot about random things, and I noticed our conversation tended to stray away from the personal. I didn’t mind, John was a stranger after all. Curiosity finally got the better of me, as I looked John Hampton up on social media. His salt and pepper hair, strong jaw, and deep brown eyes were just my type. I saw that he had gone to Yale for school. His photos sported a string of pretty women at his side in the pictures. I noticed no one was pictured more than once. I couldn’t help but feel my neighbor was a bit of a player, yet over the past few weeks, I had gotten the impression that he was a decent guy. I laid on my bed and jumped when the phone on the nightstand rang, as I looked dug deeper into his Facebook page. I felt like I had been caught red-handed, even though there was no way for him to know I was creeping on his page.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Isabella. I was wondering, does anyone ever call you Izzy?”

“My mom does sometimes. How are you tonight? Any new weird symptoms since you seem to be two days ahead of me?”

“Thankfully, no. Can I call you Izzy?”

“I guess. How are you feeling?”

“A little better every day. You know it surprises me, even after all of these weeks I still tire easily. How are you feeling today?”

“The same as you. I am homesick today.”

“Tell me, what do you miss most about home, other than the fact that it is home?”

I paused in my response as I thought.

“Well my own bed for one, but I think I miss the ocean most of all. I miss it.”

“Do you have a favorite spot to view the ocean, or a favorite beach?”

“I have lots of favorite place, but more in general, I just really miss it.”

“You’ll get back soon enough, I promise. So, tell me something good that happened to you today.”

He asked me that every day, and I found myself thinking all day what my good thing to tell him would be.

“Well, there are new free movies on the movie system. I’ve never watched so much tv in my life, but I must admit my guilty pleasure, there is a new Jules Derry documentary I really want to watch about washer women in India.”

“That is good news. I met her once on a flight from Brazil.”

“Really, that’s so cool. What was she like?”

“Artsy. She was nice enough. I’ve only seen one of her films about the women from the Inuit tribe. I remember it, it left a lasting impression on me. So, if you were at home in Chicago would you have gone to the theater to see it? Are you a movie snacks kind of person or no?”

I giggled, “Yes and no. I usually buy my own popcorn, then sneak in Chardonnay. I know that’s weird, but I really like popcorn and Chardonnay together. I always feel like such a rebel. How about you?”

I heard John laugh, and for the first time I noticed I liked making him laugh.

“I’m the guy with the giant snack tray. I can’t help it. I came from a poor family, and as a kid I didn’t get to go to the movies a whole lot. If we did, we didn’t get snacks. Now as an adult I buy the whole counter when I go.”

This time he made me laugh.

“That’s funny, I can imagine you, arms full of junk food with a big grin on your face.”

“Have you been online stalking me?”

I had outted myself unintentionally, I laughed nervously. “I may have looked you up.”

“Well since we are being honest I looked you up too, it’s nice to put a face with a name.”

“It is.”

“What did you order for dinner tonight?”

“I haven’t decided. You?”

“I thought it seems like a good night for a burger and a beer.”

“That does sound good. And a good documentary.”

“I have a crazy idea. Feel free to decline, but would you like to eat dinner with me tonight, and then maybe we could watch that documentary, if you were up for company?”

I felt my stomach flip nervously.

“Okay. Are we allowed to do that?”

“I don’t see why not, we’ve both had the virus. We can’t re-infect each other and we aren’t leaving our rooms. If you don’t want to that’s okay.”

“No, I’d love to. My room or yours?”

I realize how forward that sounded and cringed inside.

“Your choice.”

“How about mine in a half hour?”

“Okay. See you in a half hour.”

I hung up the phone as a wave of panic washed over me. I had not washed my hair today or put makeup on in almost a month. I tided the room and made the bed. It felt strange to be inviting a man to my room. After the room was more presentable, I put some blush on and noticed my hand shook. I realized I was nervous. I knew it was crazy to be so excited, to have dinner with a man who was practically a stranger. I hadn’t seen another person unless it was medical staff, and they were in full PPE when the visited, in almost a month as well. Housekeeping left clean bedding, and towels outside our door, as we swapped clean for dirty that was bagged up every other day. Even room service left the food outside our doors. We were not allowed to open our doors until the room service staff had cleared the hallway. I tried to make my hair more presentable. I was naturally curly, and I normally straightened it. I pinned it back as best I could and put on lip gloss. I examined myself in the mirror, it looked like I had put in effort, maybe too much. I wiped my gloss off and reexamined. It was better, I thought.

I heard a knock at the door that separated our rooms. I felt a nervous flip in my stomach, he was on the other side of the door. I put my hand on the doorknob as I unlocked the deadbolt with my other hand. I pulled the door open and there he stood, before me, the calming voice on the other side of the phone. He had on a soft blue, button-down shirt, and jeans. He had rolled his sleeve cuffs on his shirt and wore a thin beard. I couldn’t believe that he was finally standing in front of me.

“Hi,” I said.

“You’re real,” he said vocalizing my inner thoughts. “I hope this isn’t too forward, but you are more beautiful in person.”

I smiled as looked down bashfully, I had always been terrible at taking a complement.

“Your hair is curly. On social media your hair is straight.”

“I normally straighten it. I am naturally curly. I haven’t really done anything with it because..” I gestured around the room.

“It’s pretty.”

I found his complement sweet. I could not stop staring at him, his eyes were the color of a dark cup of coffee. I felt like I was reconnecting with an old friend, even though we had not met in person until now.

“Thank you, do you want to come in?”

I moved out of the way and gestured to the tiny couch. Having him sit on the bed just felt odd.

“Your room is the same as mine.” He laughed. “I haven’t ordered dinner yet. Have you?”

“No, not yet, I wasn’t sure if you wanted to wait.,” I said as he sat on the navy-blue couch.

“I’m starving, so I am ready whenever you are.”

“Me too.”

I walked over a picked up the phone and put in our orders. I sat in the armchair in the small sitting area of my room and caught John staring at me.

“What?”

“Sorry, it’s just nice to be next to another person. I didn’t mean to stare.”

“It’s alright, I get it. It has been an odd experience, hasn’t it?”

“I don’t think odd is a big enough word for it. Have you seen the news today? Over fifty- thousand have been infected so far here in the US. Poor Italy, they are still in the trenches too.”

“I had to stop watching. I just couldn’t handle it. That is so many. It feels like the whole world is falling apart every time I watch it.”

“I lost my job today.”

I turned and looked him, the shock of his news spread across my face.

John shrugged his shoulders, “I’ll be alright. I always seem to land on my feet.”

“You know things are bad when America, is laying off attorneys.”

I wasn’t sure if he would understand that it was meant joke, albeit a poorly timed one. I was relieved when John let out a laugh from deep inside.

“I shouldn’t have said that, I’m sorry you lost your job.”

“No, it’s true. I’m going to have to leave soon. I can stay for a few may days but work will not be paying for the room anymore.”

“Oh John, are you well enough to travel home?”

“I’m going to rent a car and drive. I want to reduce expose to as few people as possible.”

“That’s a long drive, are you up for it?”

“It is but I can do it in one day, a long day, but one day.”

“That’s actually a good idea for getting home. I was nervous about flying, even though we aren’t supposed to be infectious anymore, I don’t want anyone to go through what we just went through. It would be a much longer drive for me though, and I’d have to stay at hotels along the way.”

“After I leave, can I still keep in contact with you? Maybe not nightly, but you know. Just keep in touch?”

“I’d like that.”

There was a knock at my door and I knew it was our dinner. I jumped up and waited on our side of the door for the room service attendant to clear the hall before I stepped out and grabbed the trays that were stacked on top of each other. They were heavier than I had expected and I strained at the weight of them. John came from behind me and gestured to grab them. I pressed my body up against the door so he could pass. I could smell him for the first time, and there was something about the way he moved that I found incredibly attractive. There was a moment, just a split second where he noticed me in the same way. The hair on my arms stood, as I felt prickles on the back of my neck. John carried the trays back to the sitting area and set them on the small coffee table. I sat back down on the chair and he sat back down on the couch. We ate our dinners and he was right a burger and a beer hit the spot. As we ate I realized that something special shared between us was coming to an end, and that realization was met with sadness.

After dinner, we sat on the bed to watch the documentary. Part of me wondered if he was doing it for me or he had a genuine interest in Jules Derry’s work. I tried to concentrate on the film but I couldn’t help but wonder if he was going to make a move. I played and replayed my reactions to his advances time and again in my head, so much so that I found it difficult to concentrate on the documentary. I had surprised myself that I would actually welcome his advances. It was so odd, John felt like a stranger. The back of his hand brushed up against mine. I wasn’t sure if it was intentional or not, but I hooked a finger of his and he took the cue, gently grabbing my hand to hold it. I waited with bated breath for his next move, but it didn’t come. The sexual tension was heavy, and he still hadn’t made a move.

As the credits rolled, he turned to look at me, and my stomach did that nervous filp again.

“I know this sounds crazy, and I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m really going to miss you.”

“Not at all,” I said softly, “‘m going to miss you too.”

He leant in to kiss me and I knew it would stoke the 4-alarm fire going on inside me. He kissed my cheek softly and pulled away just enough to look me in the eye. Before I could make another move he pulled away completely. I had given all of the signs for him to go ahead, but he didn’t. I felt panicked, had misread the situation entirely? John got up off of the bed, his body language lingered like he didn’t want to leave.

“I need to go. Thank you for tonight.”

Before I could respond he turned and walked out closing the door between our rooms behind him. I was so confused. I reached for the phone to call him and then stopped. I wondered if I had offended him somehow. I put the phone back down on the receiver and sat in silence. His room was silent as well. After a while I got up and took a shower. I buttoned my pajama top and looked in the mirror after my shower still confused. I had to know. I walked over to the hotel door and knocked gently. I didn’t hear any movement and wondered if he was asleep. I knocked again, deciding this would be my last attempt tonight. I heard his footsteps approach and I took a step back so he could open the door. He opened the door and stood there bare-chested, his pajama pants hugging his hips.

“I’m sorry to disturb you, but I just have to know, did I offend you in some way?”

“No it wasn’t you. I’m sorry I left the way I did, it was rude.”

“What happned?”

“I couldn’t stay and not kiss you. Kiss you for real, not a peck on the cheek.”

I stepped forward into his room and placed my hands around the back of his neck and kissed him. I didn’t hold back. I felt his arms wrap around me as he pulled me in closer to him. I kissed him right there until my lips tingled. Kissing him was so much better than I had imagined. He felt like home, and passion, and warmth, and so much more all at once. John pulled away first.

“Wow,” he said in a whisper.

I leaned back in, and he pulled away a little further.

“Wait, Izzy, I really like you. I don’t want to hurt you, I have a terrible track record with women. You’ve been someone special to me, I couldn’t live with myself if I hurt you.”

“Then don’t.”

“Isabell.”

“If you aren’t into me, that’s okay, I’m a big girl, I can handle that. If you are afraid, then what we have been through together is all of the more reason to take a chance, isn’t it?”

He moved his hands to either side of my cheeks as he brought my lips to his, kissing me, to the point that my knees wobbled. I had never been kissed like that in my life. We spent the night together in his bed. I woke the next morning in his arms and I knew something had changed for both of us, little did I know that it would be the first morning waking in the arms of my soul mate, my husband, the father of my children and my best friend.

My phone buzzed again; shit I knew it was him. As the woman wasn’t, I supposed to be the overly attached one in this scenario. I stood in my perfect kitchen, in my perfect house, baking cookies during quarantine, playing perfect wife and mother to the life I had built. Well, quarantine life was not what I had built, but like the entire world, I was making the best of it. We were in week three and both my husband and I had moved our lives from outside to inside. We both travelled a lot for work, separately of course. All that time apart left a human need for intimacy, so on occasion, I took care of it, sometimes alone, sometimes with company. My husband, Ken, and I never discussed it but I felt that he had done the same. My actions of infidelity weren’t weaponized, they just filled a basic need, nothing more.

I remember sitting in a cab in Prague when one of Ken’s flings called me. She was angry that he had broken off whatever arrangement they had. I had my suspicions that he was sleeping around but had not confronted them until now. In the back of that taxicab, his actions slapped me hard. The woman on the other end of the phone was hysterical, and something inside me told me that I was not going to play the victim, that I would handle this on my terms. I told the woman on the phone, “that’s what happens when you sleep with a married man. Never call me again,” and hung up the phone. When I got back to the hotel, I walked up to my room and changed into clothes to go out, like I was on autopilot. That night I got blindingly drunk and took some random man back to my room. Honestly, I don’t even remember his name. The next morning, with the worst hangover of my life, I kept waiting for the feeling of guilt, but it wasn’t there. I didn’t run home and tell Ken what I had done, I kept it to myself.

From that night on, when I wanted company, I found it, and although Ken and I never discussed it directly, I felt that he understood and was relieved. When Ken and I both happened to be home at the same time, it now took pressure off of both of us. My actions were like a relief valve on a pressure cooker between us, it just worked. After my first night in Prague, I did set some ground rules which I had never broken until recently.

Rule # 1: I never used my real name.

Rule # 2: We always got a room. I didn’t bring men back to the hotel where I was staying, nor did I go to their place.

Rule # 3: The guy had to be a local

Rule # 4: No contact information, exchanging of phone numbers, emails etc.

Rule # 5: Never sleep with the same guy twice no matter how good the sex was.

Paolo had not just caused me to break my own rules but smash them entirely. I met him one night in Seattle out at a bar. I was there on business and he was too. We struck up a conversation at the bar. He was in town for a musician’s conference and expo. He made bespoke guitars out of his loft on the West side of Chicago, the same city where I lived. Rule #1- broken. He had this indie rocker vibe going on, the night we met, with his chocolate brown hair resting on his shoulders, and a wool beanie on his head. He wore a beard, thick, and normally that was turn off for me, but that night it was working. The first night we slept together I made a mistake and broke my second rule, we went back to my room. When we got in, I popped into the bathroom to freshen up and didn’t think anything of it. Paolo spotted my papers that I had left out on the desk, seeing my real name, Katie Morgan, not Jenny Anderson, my fake name. This was rule #3 broken. That first night with Paolo I didn’t know it was possible to feel that much pleasure. It was the best sex of my life. The next morning when I woke Paolo was gone but he had left his card on top of my papers on the desk in the room. I went on with life, often thinking about him and that night, wondering if it had been my imagination or if the sex had really been that good. I wanted to see him again and challenge my own perceptions of that night. Ken had a birthday coming up and had always dabbled with the guitar. I decided to buy him a new bespoke guitar and I knew who to buy it from. I called Paolo to see about ordering a guitar for Ken and was surprised when he remembered me. We arranged a time when I could come to the warehouse and pick out the elements for Ken’s birthday gift.

Two weeks later I drove over to the warehouse on the west side of the city. It didn’t look like much from the outside. I knocked on the nondescript green metal door, hoping that someone would hear me. I had butterflies in my stomach the entire drive over. I knew this was a bad idea but I had not been able to help myself. The door jerked open and there Paolo stood in the daylight, in the same city I lived in, knowing my actual name, and he was just as handsome as he was the on the night we had met. He smiled as he invited me in. The warehouse smelled of wood, as various workstations had been abandoned for a lunch break. There were numerous guitars in various states of construction. Paolo showed me around the shop floor. I noticed his hands, how he moved, it all felt like a mating dance. I picked out the materials for Ken’s guitar, feeling the whole scene was surreal, as he backed me up against the brick wall in the shop. We barely made it to his office before we were ripping clothes off of each other. He fucked me on his desk, it was the most erotic moment of my life.

Sleeping with Paolo soon became a regular occurrence when I was home, and that unnerved me. I only stepped out of my marriage while travelling, and when the need arose, not at home in the city I lived with my husband. Paolo could do things to my body that I didn’t even know it could do, and I found myself addicted to his touch. I felt untethered to reality when I was with him like I wasn’t in control of anything, and that scared me. One night as we lay in his bed, in his apartment in the top floor of the warehouse, I mentioned that I had to go to London for work for the next two weeks and that it would be a while before I could see him again. It was my way of putting some distance between us, this arrangement was turning into something else quickly and it unnerved me.

Two days after I arrived in London, on a Friday night, I came back to the hotel to find Paolo standing out front. Seeing him there scared me. I kept my feelings to myself. We did not leave the room for the entire weekend, neither of us able to satisfy the need for each other’s bodies long enough to consider leaving. That Monday, when I went off to work, as I walked down the wet sidewalk, I knew I was in trouble with Paolo. This felt like an affair, not something transactional, satisfying a need. I knew I needed to end it. I told myself when I got back to the hotel that evening I would. That night I fell into bed with him again and didn’t end it.

We flew back home to Chicago early, due to the virus that was spreading, as there was a rumor that the borders would be closed. As we sat on the flight together, and it was clear to me that he had fallen in love with me. I had feelings for him too but mine did not match. I still loved my husband and had made very clear from the beginning of the tryst that I was married and had no intention of leaving my husband. I went back to the warehouse with Paolo that night and ended things, I had to, the situation was swallowing me up whole.

The next week was a blur, with quarantine lockdown coming into effect. Ken and I both had our jobs move from out in the world to inside our own home. Our three school-aged sons were home too. I found it odd how easily I slid into the life of devoted mother and wife, but I felt like a fraud. Paolo had called and texted begging me to come back to him. I knew as I looked at my phone buzzing on the edge of the counter, it was him calling. I transferred the hot chocolate chip cookies off of the baking tray onto a cooling rack trying to ignore the call. I felt a pang of guilt to cut him out of my life so swiftly, as I sent the call to voicemail.

That evening as I made dinner my phone rang and rang. I eventually had to turn it off, as I made dinner. Ken and I watched a movie after we put the kids to bed. I poured myself another glass of wine as Ken announced he was going upstairs to bed. It wasn’t until the house was quiet that I was brave enough to turn my phone back on. I sipped my wine as I listened to Paolo’s voicemails. His voice was raspy as he said he had come down with a cold. He professed his love for me over and over again. I was so tempted to text him, I felt terrible, I had not intended for things to get so complicated. I stared down at my phone, taking one last drink of the wine in my glass. I typed, “I’m sorry.” I stared at it trying to think through what my actions would cause. I had unintentionally done enough damage. I erased my text and went up to bed.

That night I slept poorly. I dreamt of Paolo and me together. I was happy in my dream. I woke the next morning feeling unrested and conflicted. I dug into my work for the day, as Paolo kept calling. I found that part of me wanted to pick up the phone and talk to him, to make it right, but deep down I knew I couldn’t. I wasn’t going to leave Ken. I loved my husband and had always made that clear. The whole world seemed so surreal, with everyone at home, sheltering in place from the virus, and me going through a breakup. I debated whether or not to tell Ken. We had the sort of marriage where I knew I could tell him anything, but during a quarantine was not the best timing I thought to myself. Over the next two weeks, the Paolo stopped calling and I was relieved.

I was making dinner one evening about a month later, watching the kids play in the back yard through the kitchen window when Ken came in. He came up next to me and kissed me on the cheek, putting his arms around me. It felt wonderful, right, to be in my husband’s arms. I stirred the chilli and I hugged his arms across my chest. I could hear our children laughing out in the back yard. There was something in Ken’s body language that was off. I took the spoon out of the chilli and set it on the spoon rest as I turned around. Ken walked over to the small bar in the family room and poured us each a drink. He brought the two glasses over and set them on the kitchen table.

“We need to talk,” he said.

My stomach sank, as I knew Paolo had to have contacted my husband. I tried not to tremble as I walked across the kitchen and sat down next to him. He slid my glass over to me.

“I have something I need to tell you and I am not sure how you’re going to react.”

I stared at him blankly, trying to give him my bed poker face.

“Paolo passed away.”

I sat there still, unsure how to react.

“His family asked that you get this letter he wrote to you,” Ken said as he took it out of his back pocket and slid it across the table.

My hand shook as I reached out for it.

“Did you read it,” I asked as my voice cracked.

“No, but I did know about him, that you two had a fling.”

“You knew?”

“Yes, one of the kids scratched the guitar you gave me. I took it back to him to have it fixed. I walked into his office and it smelled like you, your perfume was still in the air. I asked him outright, if he was sleeping with you. He didn’t hide from it, he answered that he was and that he was in love with you.”

Ken took a sip of his whiskey.

“I didn’t say anything because I wasn’t sure if you felt the same for him.”

“I didn’t. I’m sorry, this mess is my fault. What happened?”

“He died from the virus.”

I felt the tears on my cheeks before I even realized I was crying.

“Did you love him?”

“N..no, not like I love you.”

“He called me a few weeks back when you got back from London and told me he was going to ask you to marry him.”

“What? No, he never asked, I wouldn’t have let him. Why didn’t you say anything to me about this?”

“I wanted you to be free to make your own decision. I love you but I wasn’t going to make you stay with me.”

I picked up my glass that he had set in front of me and drank the whole pour in one massive gulp.

“Do you want to stay with me?”

“Katie I love you and I am not going anywhere. This time together with all of us home and put things in a different light. I am not going to sit here and pretend to be the model husband. I know you know about my own infidelity. It just seemed when things were so busy that it was just the way things needed to be. I realize now, being together like this, that maybe it isn’t worth it, this life we’ve chosen.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I want you, all of you. I want us to be together. I want to reevaluate things. What are we doing? We’re never here for our kids, each other… What so we can have a membership to the country club we never go to? I want things to change, this time has given us a glimpse of what life can be like if we choose it.”

I sat silently as I wondered when our priorities had changed so drastically.

“Will you read the letter, I don’t think I can?”

I slid it back across the table, and Ken picked it up. I watched him open the envelope and he unfolded the letter. I scanned his face for any emotion as he read it. He finished reading and folded putting it back into the envelope.

“He saw what an amazing person you are too. He really loved you.”

I wiped the tears from my cheeks, as Ken put his and over my hand that rested on the table. Our kids burst through the back door and ran through the kitchen as our son, Trevor stopped, noticing I was crying.

“What’s wrong with mom,” he asked?

“A friend of her’s passed away. Go play.”

“I’m sorry about your friend mom,” he said as he walked out of the kitchen after his brothers.

I stood up and Ken rose too. I wrapped my hands around him and there was a split second where I wondered if he’d reciprocate, when he did, I was filled with relief. He kissed the top of my head.

“Let’s change some things. You’re right, this isn’t the life either of us willingly signed up for. We’ve been walking these paths in our careers not looking at the true cost. I want to fix this. You are the most amazing man, I’ve ever met. How you can stand here holding me right now after all of this…”

“I love you Katie.”

“I love you too.”

“Stary, start night,” he sang to me softly in the darkness of my bedroom that had become our bedroom. 

I hated that I needed him this much, but the truth was I did. His voice soft and gentle, soothed my ragged nerves. Six months ago, my whole life was different; the child moving inside of me reminded me of that. She loved the noise of her father’s voice. Six months ago, I was celebrating the biggest promotion of my career. At this rate, I thought I’d make partner before forty, a firm record. Work was my life. What was the most incredible one night stand of my life, followed by a whole weekend in bed with the man now lying next to me changed my entire life. 

I found out I was pregnant as I rode the elevator up to my office. Someone had on a strong perfume, and the smell of it made me sick to my stomach. I fled from the elevator as it reached my floor in search of the bathroom. My best friend Hattie called it as we awaited the results of the pregnancy test I had bought on my lunch break. She had come home with me, eager to see if her hunch had been correct, that evening, I chewed at a dry cuticle on my index finger as the hourglass in the digital text blinked. Then, my life changed as the test said, pregnant. I quickly ripped open a second test, which produced the same result. It’s impossible I kept saying again and again, almost in a trance. Hattie reassured me all would be okay before she left that night. 

I couldn’t have children, or at least that’s what my gynecologist had told me. Something having to do with the angle of my uterus. The only person I had been with was Adam, that wild weekend, and then a few days later. The whole ordeal had been wonderful, but I didn’t have the time for a relationship, and neither did he. Our arrangement suited both of us well; it was casual, just sex. We had always been careful, he had used protection, and I thought I couldn’t get pregnant, so I did not bother with birth control. 

I walked out of my gynecologist’s office with a confirmation that the test was positive. I had been seeing her since my early twenties; I was now in my mid-thirties. She was just as surprised as I was that I had conceived. After my exam, I dressed and walked into her office, where I sat across the desk. 

“Hailey, I know you mentioned that this was not planned. I just want to say, the fact that you’re pregnant is a miracle. Please think about your choices. I would be remiss if I didn’t mention this. My medical opinion was that you’d never be able to conceive.”

“What are you saying,” I asked?

“You may not have this chance again. I am not telling you this to influence your decision one way or another. I would not be upholding my oath to you if I didn’t.”

I thanked her and took my prescription for prenatal vitamins. I knew what she meant about choices, not that I had discussed it with her. I left the office, knowing that she was right. I knew I wanted kids someday; I just didn’t think it’d be now. 

Two weeks passed, and I knew what I wanted. I just had to call Adam and pray he wouldn’t react too badly. My hands shook as I dialed his cell phone. I wondered where in the world, he was as I listened to his phone ring and a foreign tone. 

“Hi Hailey, he said in a cheery voice.”

“Hi, where are you? The ring is different.”

“I’m in Beijing. I’m actually getting ready to board a flight home. The virus is really taking hold here, so my company is recalling everyone home. I’m not normally very jumpy, but this illness makes me a little nervous.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I can’t really talk about it right now.”

I understood the undertone of what he meant; he couldn’t discuss it publicly in a communist country. 

“Anyway, how are you?” He asked. 

“I thought you were boarding a flight, do you need me to let you go?”

“No, I’ve got about a half-hour before I’ll go down and board. I’m in the lounge. Its practically empty. Everyone has been leaving for days. Guess I’m at the tail end.”

“Ah, well, I have some news,” I paused as I took a deep breath. I felt like my heart was going to leap out of my mouth it was pounding so hard. I couldn’t form the words, only bits of sound came out, that did not even resemble words.

“Are you alright?”

I felt the tears well and swallowed hard. Just tell him, my inner monologue screamed. 

“I’m pregnant.” I blurted out.

The other side of the line was silent, too silent.

“Adam are you there,” I asked softly.

“Wow, okay. Are you sure? Have you been to the doctor?”

“I have. I’m about ten weeks along. I haven’t known for long. I’m sorry I didn’t call you sooner, I just needed some time to think. The baby is yours. I’m keeping it. I just wanted to say that I didn’t plan this, and I was as shocked as you are now. I mean we used protection. I…”

“Hailey,” Adam said calmly.

I stopped talking.

“Can I come to see you when I get back home?”

“Of course. I know this is a lot. I’ll give you some space and some time to process.”

“Thanks”

“Come by, and we can talk once you get in and get settled.”

“Sounds good. Get some rest; I’ll be home tomorrow. We can talk about this weekend.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” Adam said as he hung up the phone. 

The call had ended more abruptly than I had expected, but the fact that he hadn’t shouted was a relief. I didn’t think he’d be the sort to do something like that, but in all honestly, I really didn’t know him. 

The next day I slept in, early pregnancy exhaustion had set in, and I found it difficult to do much of anything aside from sleep. I was woken by the noise of my doorbell. I stumbled half-awake in a pair of sweatpants and U of C. T-shirt, a real vision. I couldn’t be bothered to do better, whoever was at the door could fuck off, I wanted to go back to bed. I opened the door, and Adam stood on my doorstep with at least three dozen long-stem pink roses. I stood there, my mouth literally aghast. His luggage stood at his feet; he had just come from the airport. 

“Hello, sleepyhead,” he said softly.

“Hi,” I replied, not completely awake and comprehending him standing in front of me. “I thought you were coming by this weekend.”

“Is it a bad time?”

“No. I just wasn’t expecting you. Come in.”

I moved out of the way as he handed me the roses. They smelled lovely. He grabbed his luggage and stepped inside the entryway to my townhouse. I brought the roses to my nose and inhaled deeply. They were gorgeous. 

“These are lovely. Thank you. Would you like some coffee?”

“Yes, please.”

Adam followed me into the kitchen as I set the roses in the sink and started making coffee.

“How was your flight,” I asked, trying to make conversation, and break the tension a bit.

“Relatively empty. Have you seen the news this morning? All travel between here and China has ceased. The U.S. closed the border. This virus is going to be a bigger deal than the U.S. media is letting on.”

“That’s crazy; I hadn’t heard. Do you think there will be an outbreak here?”

“I do, but let’s talk about that later. I flight from China gives a man a lot of time to think. I’ve given this a lot of thought. I was married years ago in my twenties, we wanted it all, the family, minivan, white picket fence, all of that. When we divorced, I decided I didn’t really want that, and I never went in search of it again.”

I slid a cup of coffee across the island, along with the sugar bowl and a small pitcher of milk. He took it and took a sip, drinking it black. He set it back down on the counter and continued.

“I’m almost fifty. I didn’t think I would have the chance to be someone’s father, and I was okay with that until yesterday. When you called me yesterday, something changed. I know it sounds cliche but its true. I want to be a part of this if you’ll let me?”

“Of course, this is your child too. I am relieved that you want a relationship with our child. I want you to know I don’t want anything from you; I can provide for this child.”

I put my hand over my slightly swollen abdomen, which looked like I had overindulged at the taco bar, instead of growing a child. 

“Well, you have whatever the two of you need from me. All you ever need to do is ask. Where does that leave you and me?”

“Oh, well, I’m not sure. Friends, I guess, I don’t see why anything needs to change between us. I did not expect you to show up here with a ring. In fact, I am so glad you didn’t. I think a baby is enough of a life change right now, don’t you?”

I watched his posture change as he took another sip of his coffee. It almost looked like disappointment if I had to guess. 

Adam finished his coffee and headed home. I promised him we could talk more after he had settled in and was more well-rested.

Over the next three weeks, the world seemed to fall apart. Adam had been right; the virus had taken hold in the U.S. Our offices closed, and I was now working from home. I had stocked up the best that I could living in the city and planned to hunker down. Adam had called a few times to check on the baby and me, and I told him all was well. It felt like the whole world was going to hunker down and ride this out. 

That Tuesday morning, as I sat in on our weekly staff meeting, now held virtually, I had to step away. Someone was knocking loudly on my door. I excused myself as politely as I could, wondering who the hell would knock like that. I stormed to the door to give the inconsiderate asshole who was knocking a piece of my mind. I grabbed the knob and yanked the door open. Adam stood on my porch with two suitcases and several boxes.

“What the hell?”

“Hi,” he replied.

“What are you doing? Why are you here?”

“I came to stay for the quarantine. I didn’t want to leave you two to fend for yourselves. I brought groceries too.”

“What? No. We’re fine. Thank you, but really, no thank you.”

“Hailey, please. Things are going to get worse, and if you don’t let me stay for you, please let me stay for me.”

I didn’t know what to say. Part of me felt that it was incredibly sweet, while the other half of me was annoyed. He had mentioned the idea of staying with me last week over the phone, and I had shot him down.

“What about your house? Aren’t you afraid someone will rob you if things are going to get as bad as you say?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

He walked forward, and I stepped out of the way to let him in. 

“I’m not moving in permanently. I would sleep better at night knowing you two are safe. You have my word that I’ll go home when the stay at home order is lifted. Please?”

I took a deep breath, “all right then,” I relented. 

Adam stayed three nights in the guest room before he joined me in my bed. I found that I actually liked having him around and we settled into a routine, we both worked during the day from different parts of the house and then usually one of us would cook dinner. We spent our evenings watching tv, reading, and playing card games or Scrabble. The more time we spent together, the more it felt like a little family, and as welcoming as it was, there was a part of me that felt uneasy about it. 

As the quarantine dragged on, I knew eventually our arrangement would end. I knew we were just playing house, but it felt natural. I continuously reminded myself that I intended to raise this child alone. The days passed and found myself becoming more anxious. I wasn’t sure if it was the thought of Adam leaving, of life, returning to normal, or just the nightly news. At first it was manageable, but I soon found myself waking in the night. One night I woke, and Adam sensing that I wasn’t sleeping snuggled up next to me. He wrapped his hands around me, and he started to hum the tune to the song, Starry Starry Night. I couldn’t help but laugh. 

The last night of quarantine, I sat outside on my back deck and sipped a cup of mint tea to quell the nausea that had stuck with me through the pregnancy. I tried not to show my sadness that Adam would be moving back home tomorrow. I wanted him to stay, but I couldn’t bring myself to ask him. Although it was now May, the temperature outside was still chilly, and I had wrapped a blanket around me as I sipped my tea. The sun had begun to set, and I had not started dinner yet. Adam had a call that went long, so I had decided to wait. As I sat there and thought about him leaving, it dawned on me that I had fallen in love with him over the past ten weeks we had lived together. Even if I weren’t carrying his child, I would’ve still enjoyed our time together, he was kind, thoughtful, and fun to be with. The more I thought about it the more upset I became. I had made one hell of a mess, I felt, and I did’ t know how to fix it. “Just tell him the truth,” my inner voice told me. I dismissed it angrily, but my mind continued to think what to do. I stood up, setting my mug down on the table next to me. I had nothing to loose, asking him to stay. I turned to walk into the house and saw Adam standing in the doorway. He startled me.

“You know, I was thinking,” he said as he leaned up against the doorjamb, “what if I didn’t leave tomorrow?”

My bottom lip quivered, and I bit it hard to keep from crying. 

“What if this was home now, with you and our daughter?”

He stepped out onto the deck, and I stood there, and he walked towards me.

“Hailey, what do you think?”

“Marry me,” I blurted out.

“Hey, that’s my line,” he joked.

“What?”

“I was coming out here to ask you to marry me.”

“You were?”

I couldn’t help but cry, and Adam took me into his arms.

“These past ten weeks have been a gift for us. It gave us time to really get to know each other. It gave me time to reinforce my original impressions of you.”

“Which were?”

“That I was going to marry you. For the record, I thought that before this peanut came along,” he said as he rubbed my stomach. “So, what do you say? Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

“Yes,” I blubbered as I buried my head in his neck.

He pulled me closer to him, as our daughter moved between us. 

“Hi, is this seat taken,” I asked jokingly as I stood at a mostly empty bar. 

The one man sitting in the terminal bar looked at me with a confused look on his face, and I laughed. He smiled, and I took a seat two places away from him. The bartender came around to our side of the bar. 

“I only have drinks today.” He said. 

“That’s fine, can I please have a vodka and tonic please, Brustros vodka if you have it. Thanks.”

The bar tender nodded as he turned to grab the glass and set to making my drink. I looked around at the airport terminal, there had to be twenty-five people in the entire terminal at best. Normally, LAX was packed as the whole world passed through these halls. Now it was just me and a few strangers. Normally this bar, that sat in the middle of the terminal was packed, I now had my pick of seats, and prompt service. 

“Flight number?” The bartender asked as he slid my drink in front of me. 

“AA445,” I replied and slid my bank card towards him.

“Chicago right?” He asked as he took it to the till attached to the counter where all of the alcohol stood. 

“Good call”

I sipped my drink hoping it would take the edge off. I used to be a very nervous flyer but as work required me to fly more, the nerves fell away. However something about seeing the world so empty and traveling during quarantine set me on edge. I hoped a good strong drink would deaden the prickly edges of my nervousness. The bar tender handed me my card walked away. A child squealed off in the distance, and it made me wonder who would bring a toddler out in this, but who knows? It’s not my place to judge, I’m the idiot flying across the country during a global pandemic. I looked in the direction of the noise and saw a chubby toddler running full-steam from his weary parents. The boy with his straight black hair and bright eyes, wore a face mask. It was just another unsettling reminder of how much life had changed. At that thought I took another sip of my drink. 

“You’re going to Chicago,” a man’s voice asked.

I turned back in his direction, he was the one I had asked about the seat. We were the only two patrons on this side of the oval shaped bar. He wore the uniform of a well-traveled man. An Oxford button down shirt, navy sport jacket, tailored jeans, and leather loafers. His leather brief case sat on top of his expensive rolling luggage wedged between his seat and the one next to him. His icy blue eyes complemented his hair, that was almost the perfect shade of gold, with dark brown undertones. He wore it cut longer, so I could see just a hint of a natural curl to it. 

“I am.”

“Where are you off to,” I asked? Normally, I kept to myself. I didn’t make “single-serving friends,” as the term was coined from the film Fight Club. 

“Boston.”

“Are you traveling for business or pleasure?”

“Neither, I’m going home.”

“Ah,” I replied, not quite sure what he meant but it, but there was something about the way he said it that made the statement feel like a loaded grenade. I left the loaded statement sit on the bar as I took a sip of my drink.

“You, are you traveling for business or pleasure?”

“Coming home, from business. I flew out here before everything hit the fan. My company asked me to stay out here for an extra week. I did and then I woke up to a pink slip this morning. No warning, no explanation. It’s happening to a lot of people right now, I was just caught off guard.” Take that grenade in return, I thought to myself.

“That’s rough. What do you do? I mean what did you do?”

“I was a V.P. of strategic communication at March & Wakemen. You?”

“I work in entertainment out here. Sorry, about your job. Companies are going to need good comms people when this is over, I’m sure you’ll land on your feet.”

“Let’s hope,” I said as I raised my glass, and he raised his in return. We both sipped our drinks. My guess was his was scotch. He looked like a scotch drinker to me. There was a pause in our conversation and I looked around the mostly empty terminal again. I took another sip of my drink and put together what I knew of the handsome man at the end of the bar. He said home was in Chicago, but he worked out here. Hmmmm, mystery, but I didn’t want to pry. If I was going to have a single-serving friend, I was going to be a good one. 

“Flight 487 to Dallas is now boarding at Gate M13. Flight 487 To Dallas is now boarding at Gate M13.” A woman’s voice echoed through the terminal. 

The man on the other side of the bar, downed the rest of his beer, grabbed his bags and walked over to the gate. The man next to me, and I watched a total of eight people board the flight. 

“Last call for flight 487 to Dallas.” The airline employee said, clearly out of formality, they had everyone on the flight. 

“That’s an odd scene, isn’t it?” The man two seats down from me asked. 

“It is. This feels like a strange dream, I keep expecting to wake from. Yet, here I still am.”

“I’m James,” he put his hand forward to shake mine and then pulled it away and waved instead.

“Hi James, I’m Lily.”

“Nice to meet you Lily. So what are your plans when you get to Chicago?”

“I guess the same as everyone else, I’ll hunker down and wait this thing out.” 

We watched two more flights board as the terminal emptied. We each ordered another dink, there wasn’t much else to do. 

“What time is your flight?”

I looked down at my ticket. “6:45, I’ve got an hour. I doubt they’re going to start boarding soon. I wonder if I am the only person on the flight? What time is yours?”

“7:15. I think you’re right. Other than those people and the bartender I think we’re the only ones in the terminal right now. What a weird experience.”

I looked a the two women across the terminal who were looking out the window to the tarmac and then glanced around. James was correct, it really was just us. My stomach growled loudly. Two vodka and tonics on an already nervous stomach may not have been the best idea. I put my hand over my stomach. 

“I wonder where I can get some food?”

“The bar will have food.”

“Nope, the bartender said drinks only when I sat down.”

“Let’s ask him where to find food, I’m hungry too,” he gestured towards the bartender who was on the other side of the bar wiping it down. “Excuse me.”

The bartender stood and came over. “Another round,” he asked as he picked up the scotch bottle James was drinking.

“No thanks, say do you know where we could find some food?”

The bartender thought, “well there’s nothing in this terminal. You could try terminal J. I now there’s an In and Out Burger over there that is rumored to be open. Everywhere else you’ll have to go back out through security but, honestly I wouldn’t risk it. You’re two flights are the last two tonight and I don’t know if you be able to get back through. They’ve been running a lean crew as it is.”

James turned towards me, “Want to give it a try?”

“It’s better than our current options,” I paused for emphasis, “nothing.” 

James let out a little laugh.

“Do you want anything,” he turned asking the bartender.

The small gesture struck me, it was so simple but so kind. 

“Nah, I’m good. Almost done for the day. Thanks though.”

James stood and grabbed his luggage as I followed suit. I could feel the vodka in my system. I wasn’t drunk, not even close, but I felt happy and at ease. James and I set off in search of terminal A and did not pass another soul as we walked through the empty airport. 

“I expect to hear my alarm going off at any minute, and wake up from this weird dream,” James said as we entered terminal A which was just as empty as ours was. 

“I was just thinking the same thing. I smell French fries.”

“Me too, now I’m really hungry.”

I let out a little laugh as we walked through the terminal. Half way through, the terminal opened to a circle with food options and a few tables on either side of the main hall. All of the food options were closed and my stomach reminded me that it would be a long flight to Chicago, hungry. An employee in the In and Out Burger walked from behind the wall to the kitchen and came around to the register. The gate was down but James and I looked at each other and walked up.

“Excuse me, do you have any food left for sale?” James asked.

“Sorry we’re closed.”

“I understand. But there is nothing to eat in the airport right now and my friend and I both have long flights. I’ll pay you double.”

The employee looked up at that, and held up a finger signaling for us to wait as he went behind the wall. I looked up at James who shrugged. The man returned a minute later with a large white to-go bag. He walked up to the gate and opened it handing us the bag of food.

“It’s just fries, they’re probably cold but it’s something.”

James reached for his wallet. 

“No charge man.”

“Then something for your trouble,” James insisted.

“Don’t worry about. Stay safe.” He said as he walked back behind the gate and pulled it down.

My phone buzzed and I reached into my back pocket to retrieve it, the bag of fries in my other hand. 

“My flight’s been delayed until 8. How is there a delay? No one’s traveling,” I asked to no one in particular.

“Maybe the plane left Chicago late?”

I nodded, and looked towards the end of the terminal where the last of the day’s golden sun streaked through the windows at the end. 

“I love the color of the sunlight here. It is so beautiful.”

“Why don’t we go sit down there then. Let you soak it all in before you return to Chicago?”

“Sure.”

James and I walked to the end of the terminal and sat directly in the waining sunset. We dug into the bag which had a generous helping of French fries. It wasn’t enough for a meal for both of us but there was enough food to take the edge off of hunger. I felt like a teenager eating just fries, with my single serving friend. In the middle of a spacious airport, there was an intimate feeling between us, like we were the last two people left in the building. I knew it wasn’t true. James’ phone buzzed and he pulled it from his jacket pocket.

“Huh, my flight’s delayed now too.”

“How long?”

“Two hours, like yours.”

“That makes me nervous. I hope our flights are cancelled. I don’t want to go back to the hotel. I want my own bed.”

“Nah, they won’t cancel.”

I was skeptical as James put his phone back in his pocket. He reached for another French fry as his phone began to buzz again. He pulled it out.

“Sorry I have to take this,” he said as he stood up and walked away. 

I tried not to eavesdrop but it was hard not to in the silent terminal. James had walked back towards the food court, but his voice still carried. 

“Yes, I’m at the airport. Look I don’t know why we have to do this now, in the middle of a global pandemic. Isn’t it enough that I am flying across the country to be there?”

I couldn’t hear the other end of the call, but there was tension in Jame’s voice and I felt uncomfortable listening. I reached for my bag, to grab my own phone as I heard him continue.

“What difference does it make? Why couldn’t you just send me the papers, I don’t see why I have to be there to sign them.”

Was he going home to sign divorce papers I wondered. I had not noticed a wedding ring. His annoyance was turning to anger as I watched him begin to pace out of the corner of my eye. 

“I am staying in the guest house. Look, I’ll sign the damn papers but then I am coming home,” there was a pause as the other person on the phone talked. “You don’t get to tell me where home is anymore,” he said as he hung up the phone. 

He brought his hand up to his head but I couldn’t see what he was doing, he stood with his back to me. I looked at my phone as I put another French fry into my mouth, trying to act like I was oblivious to the call I had just witnessed. James walked back up and sat down.

“Sorry about that.”

“Huh,” I said trying to be polite.

James understood and gave a slight smile of acknowledgment.

“Would you like a magic French fry?”

James looked at me quizzically as I picked up a French fry.

“This is not just any French fry, you see it’s a magical L.A. French fry.”

James laughed as I continued on.

“Yes, it will make you younger, richer, healthier.” I laughed and put the fry back down.

“No, keep going, you have my attention.”

There was a genuine smile on his face, and for the first time, I truly noticed how handsome he was. 

“Well, Sir, this magical fry,” I said as I picked it back up, “it also cures all ailments and maladies. Generations of explorers have searched for this magical fry only too end up disappointed. I offer it to you my weary traveling friend.” 

I held out the fry and James laughed. 

“Magic you say? That was quite the story. You’d fit in well out here.” 

“I guess you doubt it’s magic. This fry will have to be all mine then.” 

“No, no I don’t doubt it.”

I raised an eyebrow as I looked at James and laughed as he took the French fry from my hand. He popped it into his mouth and chewed slowly with emphasis and swallowed.

“Is it working? Do I look younger, healthier?” He joke turning his face side to side.

“Whoah you do.” I laughed.

James laughed too. 

“Thanks for sacrificing that magical fry for me, a weary traveler,” he joked.

We both laughed as I wrapped up the paper the fries had sat on and put all of our trash into the bag. I stood up and took the empty bag and put it into the trash can.

“What time is I,” I asked looking back at James.

“It’s 6:08.”

James got up and grabbed his luggage and mine as he pulled mine over to me. I took it from him as we began to walk slowly towards the terminal entrance. 

“Do you want to walk to terminal D? I don’t think we have to leave the security to do it.” He asked.

I weight my options, the only thing that awaited us in our departure terminal was the bar, and I had my fill. 

“All right.” 

We pulled out luggage through the empty airport towards terminal D. The sole of my leather loafer echoed through the empty halls. 

“I’m going back to Boston to sign divorce papers,” James said.

His statement caught me off guard.

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Me, too. My soon to be ex-wife is insisting I be there to sign in person. I think she’s going to try to use our kids to get more out of me.”

“That’s rotten. How old are your children.”

“I have two girls, Ellie who’s 11 and Margie who’s 13. I hate that they’re having to go through this. I took a job out here and my ex, Karen, didn’t want to move the girls out here.”

“How long have you been working out here?”

“Five years. They did live here up to a year ago. I couldn’t understand what was so bad about living out here. Karen, just hated it. She wanted to be home in Boston with her friends. She started flying home most weekends, and weekends turned into long weekends, and then weeks at a time, until one day she called and said she was done with our life out here. I think there’s someone else in Boston.”

“That’s rough.”

“I worry about my girls. I hope this doesn’t destroy our relationship.”

“Can I ask a question?”

“Sure.”

“Did you offer to move back?”

“I did, no job is worth my family. When I told her I’d finally move back, she told me not to bother, it wouldn’t make a difference.”

“Ah, sense your suspicions of someone else.”

James nodded. Our walking slowed as I put my hand on his arm to comfort him. He put his hand over mine. The gesture felt appropriate and awkward at the same time. 

“We’re a barrel of fun, you and I. Unemployed and well, you…” I gestured. 

“I guess we are. I think this is the most fun I’ve ever had in an airport.”

“That’s just sad,” I joked.

“No, I mean it. I knew this trip was going to be difficult and I didn’t expect… I’m glad I met you.”

“I’m glad I met you too.”

We turned into terminal D, which was deserted. My heels clacked on the floor echoing through the terminal. We walked in silence past empty gate after gate. This terminal was longer than the previous two. James stopped in the middle of the terminal and I stopped two steps ahead of him and looked back in his direction. Letting go of his luggage he walked up to me and slid his hand along my cheek. I could smell his cologne as he stepped towards me. His hand was soft against my cheek. He leaned down and brushed a soft kiss across mine. I stood in awe as he pulled away.

“I’m sorry I know I shouldn’t have done that. I just wanted to know.”

“Know what,” I said as I licked my lips, still tasting him, and the salt from the fries. 

“I wanted to know what kissing you would feel like,” he said with an embarrassed look on his face, “I’m sorry if..”

I closed the space between us and wrapped my arm around his neck as I pulled my his lips to mine. This time I felt him brush his tongue across mine, and it had the same effect of striking a match as I my body felt like it was in flames. I had never had an experience like this before. I didn’t know I was drunk from the booze and didn’t realize it, or the current situation of being alone in an airport during a global pandemic, but something in my let go of my reserved nature. He pulled my body in tighter against his as his kiss deepened. I took my hand off of my luggage and looped it around his neck, as I held him with both hands.

He pulled away and looked down at me. I had not realized how much taller than me he was than me. There was something in his icy blue eyes that pierced through me.

“Wow,” he whispered. 

“Wow good, or wow bad?” I asked softly.

“Wow good, very good.”

In the boldest action of my life. I pulled his hand over to a gate, the noise of my shoes muffled on the carpet of the gate. I pulled his hand gently behind the wall of the desk at the gate. As soon as we stepped behind it, he pulled me back into his arms. Pinned between him and the cold wall, I felt like a teenager. He kissed me again as he slid his hand up my soft gray sweater. As his hand connected with my breast I let out a soft moan. 

I reached between us and tugged at his belt but the fancy buckle wouldn’t release. He pulled his hand away from my breast and released the clasp on his belt. As he brought his hand back to me he pushed my sweater up. My breast sat, eager to be touched in my white demi-cuped lace bra. I reached between us and unbuttoned his pants and pushed them down, listening to the contents of his pockets hit the carpeted floor. He reached down and unbuttoned my, jeans, but they did not fall from my hips. His kisses were deep, and with a feverish intensity that made me feel like we were both on the precipice of something. I helped as I pushed my own pants down. I slid my foot out of my loafer and out of one of my pant legs as he lifted me against the wall. 

This is nuts, but I love it, I want it! My inner-voice screamed. My body was arm against him, and everywhere he touched seemed to tingle. I felt like clay in his arms. He entered me, bring a rush of pleasure with it. He kissed me as we went at it secretly in the middle of an empty airport terminal. My fingers dug into his back as the pleasure built. He pulled his lips away from mine and I pulled the cool air of the terminal in greedily, unable to keep as silent as I knew I needed to be. I bit down hard on my lip to keep from screaming out as the orgasm tore through my body. James brought is mouth over mine to muffle the sound. My body shook and my fingers and toes tingled. 

He pulled his mouth from mine and whispered in my ear, “I can feel you coming, it’s so fucking hot.”

I brought my mouth back to his and tired to kiss him with as much intensity has he had kissed me. It was all he needed as I felt his body lurch, and my back pressed harder against the wall. I wanted to stay pined like that forever, as my own orgasm was still in it’s final waining moments. We stayed like that, my body lifted in his arms, back cold against the wall, as we both breathed hard. 

James set me down gently and we both dressed silently. I could not believe that I had sex with a stranger. I watched James dress, in amazement of what had just happened, that I know knew him intimately. We walked from behind the wall, hand in hand, our luggage still standing in the middle of the terminal where we’d left it. Grabbing our luggage we started walking back towards our terminal. 

“I don’t believe that just happened,” I said out loud.

“Me neither.”

We both looked at each other. I reached over and wiped a streak of my peachy colored lipstick from the side of his face.

“Lipstick,” I said as I pulled my finger away to show him.

“Ah, thanks.”

My phone buzzed as we reached out terminal. I pulled it out of my bag.

“My flight is boarding.”

“Can I have your number? Lily from Chicago.”

“All right James from LA. 312-333-9380. I have to go.”

“Bye, he said softly.”

“Bye, I waved. I turned back and looked at him as I got behind the one other person boarding the flight. His polished traveler facade back on. He waved again as I boarded, and I waved back one last time.

I took my seat on the flight and counted two other people on the plane, still in awe that I had just slept with a complete stranger. As I felt the plane push back I realized I didn’t get his number in return. I wanted to leap off of the plane and get it from him. I wanted to get to know him more. As we took off, I thought about him leaving LA shortly himself to go home to Boston. 

(DISCLAIMER: Today’s story is intended for mature audiences due to language and adult content.)

Katie and I saw it coming, the quarantine. We work together at the corporate offices of a national insurance company. The afternoon  the closed the offices, Katie and I rode the El back up to my place. We had met on our first day and had been friends for the past ten years as we both rose within the organization. She had become the best friend I never had. As we rode north and the buildings shrunk out of the windows and became more residential Katie continued  to try to convince me to come home with her to Iowa. 

“The city is going to get crazy,” she kept saying, “It won’t be safe here. Come to Iowa with me. Come stay at the farm.”

That night as I laid on my couch in my townhouse, the one I had worked so hard to buy, life just felt odd. I felt like I was abandoning my life. My mind wasn’t completely even made up until Katie showed up the next morning and started to put my stuff in her car. I hated the idea of leaving the city. Deep down I knew it was a smart thing to do, but part of me felt I’d be just fine where I was. I relented and got into the car. I tried not to regret my decision as urban turned into suburban, and eventually rural through the passenger side window. I felt very out of my element without pavement beneath my feet and skyscrapers towering overhead. 

I had seen pictures of Katie’s family farm, a old white farm house that looked older than the state, and a big red barn off in the distance. She came from a long line of were crop farmers. Katie didn’t look like a farm girl from Iowa, nor did she look like a city girl either, she was a chameleon in that way. She had the ability to fit in wherever she went. I, on the other hand stuck out like a sore thumb. 

As we crossed the Mississippi River, Katie’s cell phone rang. She picked it up and put it to her ear, but I could still hear her mother on the other end. Eileen Bishop was everyone’s mother it seemed. I had met her several times when she and Bob, Katie’s dad had visited Katie in Chicago. They were good salt-of-the-Earth midwesterners and I liked them.

“Yeah Mom, we just crossed the Mississippi, so about two and a half hours. No, I won’t speed.”

I looked out the passenger window, trying not to laugh. Katie didn’t know how to drive under the speed limit. I thought about my own mom. If I were having this exact conversation with her, she’d be more concerned that I brought the case good of wine, and the good ham from Jensen’s Market, the best butcher in the city. “We have to eat well at this crucial time,” I could hear her saying in my head. She and her newest husband had been stuck in Europe when the pandemic hit. Not that stuck is a fair word exactly, she was quarantined to her new husband’s penthouse in Paris, with its breathtaking views of the Eiffel Tower. For a split second, I thought about joining her instead. When I was honest with myself, it would be fun for a few days then I’d be stuck with my mother in a confined space for weeks on end, and whatever winner she had chosen to marry this time. No, thank you. I’d take my chances with Katie’s family. 

“He’s coming home,” Katie asked, jogging my attention from the thought of my mother in her Parisian penthouse. 

I prayed “he” wasn’t her older brother Aaron. If it was, Katie could  drop me at the nearest airport, Paris sounded like a better idea. I had met Aaron on several occasions. Met, is a kind word, it would be more apt to say fell into bed and had drunken hate sex. The truth was we couldn’t stand each other. I knew this because he made sure to tell me to my face once, three whiskeys in. What did I do in return to this information, you ask? I fucked him in the bathroom. We were perfectly polite to each other when sober, but if you put a few drinks into us, we became different people. Katie knew some of the history between Aaron and I but not all of it. Honestly, there wasn’t really a history, just a string of drunken hook ups, every time we were in the same room together, followed by my self loathing afterwards. 

Katie hung up the phone and looked over at me.

“Aaron is home. I’m sorry I didn’t know. Mom said he was staying out in Berkley and was going to ride it out there. Look, I’ll make him behave. I promise. I know you how you two feel about each other. Besides, if Daddy catches wind of Aaron’s bullshit around you, he’ll bring some country justice.”

“Do I want to know what country justice is?” I asked.

Katie laughed. “It will be fine. I promise.”

Two hours later Katiee pulled off of the two lane highway and down a long gravel driveway, as the rocks hit the side of her BMW. I thought about the paint, but she didn’t let her foot up as cloud of dust billowed up into the air behind the car. There was a nervous pit in my stomach as we got closer and the white farmhouse got bigger in the windshield. It looked just like the picture with the only exception being that the photo had been taken in July, when the landscape had color. In early March, everything was still dormant, the landscape was bleak. Before we even got out of the car Bob and Eileen were standing on the porch to welcome us. I checked my make-up in the mirror behind the sun visor. I hadn’t wore much, as I smudged a natural tone of peach across my lower lip. It complemented my pale-skin, and set off my blue eyes. I ran my fingers through my chocolate brown hair, smoothing it.

“Ready Miss America?” Katie joked.

Her joke put me on edge. I was way out of my element and now in hostile territory with Aaron wondering around. I got out of the car, my heel hitting the gravel first. Wrong shoes for this, I thought to myself as I got out. 

“Look at you two, as pretty as a picture,” Eileen squealed as she came off of the porch. She hugged Katie and then me. “Ava I’m so happy you came home with Katie. I know you can take care of yourself, but it worries me, you all alone in the city with all of this craziness going on.”

Bob came up and hugged Katie and then me.

“Ava, our home is your home. Please make yourself comfortable,” he said. 

I was touched by their warmth and generosity. They were truly kind people and I saw a lot of them in Katie. 

“Come on, let’s get you girls settled in. Dinner will be ready in about an hour. Ava, is there anything you don’t eat? Do you have any food allergies?”

“No Mrs. Bishop.”

“Eileen. Mrs. Bishop was my mother-in-law.”

I smiled as Bob and Eileen led us into the house. The interior looked like a Hollywood movie set of an old farmhouse. Dark wood floors, paneled doors, the wood staircase, even the soft yellow wall paper. Walking in, it felt like home. Eileen led me up the stairs and into the first room at the top of the stairs, across the hall from Katie. The room was clean and cozy with its slopped ceiling and rod iron bed. 

“The bathroom is down the hall, the second door on your left. I’m so glad you came to stay. I’ll let you settle in, and I’ll holler when dinner is ready,” Eileen said as she started to walk out of the room. 

She moved out of the way as Aaron came through the door with my four pieces of luggage in his hand. I had not asked him to bring them up, I was fully capable. 

“Where do you want em’?”

“Anywhere is fine.”

He took me literally and set them down where he stood. Typical asshole, I thought to myself. Eileen walked out of the room, leaving only Aaron and I. He looked at me without saying anything, it was the sort of look that I felt in my core. 

“Thanks,” I said, barely audible.

He turned and walked out, still silent and shut the door behind him. I sat down on the bed, and took a deep breath. You do not find him attractive sober, remember. Get it together! I took another deep breath, trying to push the image of him out of my head. His sandy blonde hair, deep blue eye and sharp jawline was enough to get over but his body was incredible. I took one more deep breath to steady myself. Katie knocked on my door and came in and laid on the bed while I unpacked. 

That night we ate a beef roast, mashed potatoes, gravy, and vegetables around the dining room table. I felt like I was in a Norman Rockwell painting, it was so different from my own home, but I liked it. There was something solid, and safe about it. Over dinner we all caught up. When I though I couldn’t eat anymore Eileen brought out a chocolate cake, two tiers high. It looked amazing but I was so full that I politely declined. 

After dinner we played a game of Monopoly, and I learned the Bishop’s take their Monopoly game very seriously. I watched Aaron decimate his own mother, which embolden me to try to crush him in the game. We played until I finally beat him, much to the delight of the entire family. We all turned in for the night afterward. As I laid in bed that night, I thought about Aaron, it was nice to see him so pleasant. I was glad that Katie had brought me home with her so far. My thoughts drifted to the giant chocolate cake in the fridge downstairs. My mouth watered at the thought of it. Tempted, I grabbed my robe and tiptoed down the creaky wooden stairs. The house was quiet as I made my way into the kitchen. The lights were off but the small table lamp in the hallway lit the way to the fridge. I pulled the door open and looked inside for the cake.

“Looking for this?” I heard Aaron say, scaring the shit out of me. 

He laughed as I turned around. I couldn’t see him in the dark. He clicked on the small lamp that sat on the kitchen table. 

“I think you jumped six feet, that was classic.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“Sorry, it was too easy. Do you want a slice of cake?”

I took a deep breath, bringing my heart rate back down, but it was difficult looking at him sitting there shirtless. 

“It’s all right.”

“Here,” he said as he leaned over and pulled a drawer open and a fork out of it. “Come sit,” he said as he put the fork on the table.

I knew grabbing that fork was like reaching in a lion’s hungry mouth to retrieve it. I stared hard at Aaron, I wasn’t going to be a shrinking violet. I stepped closer towards the table. Aaron reached out and hooked his finger in the belt loop of my bathrobe and stood as he pulled me into him. His chest was warm, I pushed away from him half-heartedly. He brought his mouth down over mine, and his mouth tasted of chocolate fudge. His kiss was powerful and it stoked a fire deep inside of me. I knew I was in so much trouble, this was a terrible idea but I didn’t want to stop, I wasn’t sure if I could. 

He broke his mouth away from mine and whispered in my ear, “follow me.” He left the cake on the kitchen table and clicked off the light. I followed him upstairs, my heart pounding so hard I could feel it in my fingertips. We reached the top stair as Bob and Eileen’s bedroom door open. Quickly Aaron pulled me into my room, shutting the door silently. Behind the closed door we both remained still, as I stood in his arms. I could smell him, hear his breathing, and my resolve completely crumbled. We both listened for Eileen’s footsteps. Once the bathroom door closed, Aaron reach up and took my cheek into his hand and brought my mouth back to his. 

His kisses trailed down my neck as he pulled my robe open. He tugged at the collar of my nightshirt trying to kiss my collar bone. Frustrated he tugged at it and I heard the stitches in the seam tear.

“Wait,” I said breathless.

I pulled the nightdress off. The soft blue moonlight flooded through bedroom lighting my pale skin. I stood before him in only my lace underwear. He licked his lips as he pulled me back into his body and crossed the room over to the bed, never taking his mouth away from mine. The bed creaked loudly as we collapsed on to it.

“Shhh,” he whispered into my ear. 

He brought his mouth back over mine as he reached in-between us and into my underwear. I wanted them gone. I needed any barrier between us gone. I reached down and pushed off his pajama bottoms. He tugged at my underwear hard as heard the lace seam give way, this time I didn’t care. He pushed his body into mine, I cried out in pleasure, his mouth still over mine. I reached down grasping his ass trying to pull him into me harder and faster. The bed began to creak, and I didn’t care, I couldn’t care. I felt as if I was going to go up in flames. Aaron slowed his pace. 

“Shhhh,” he reminded me. 

He slowed his pace and rather than kiss me he looked at me. I could see his face in moonlight. There was something in the way he looked at me, it was different. Something changed in that moment, I felt like he saw me in a way that he had not before. He leant down and kissed me, with affection. His movements became more deliberate. This wasn’t our normal hate fuck. This was something I had never experienced before, I realized he was making love to me. My orgasm tore through me as I bit down on his shoulder, not to scream out. He held me tight against his body, driving into me as my body trembled with pleasure. 

“Kiss me,” he said as his own orgasm took him over the edge.

He collapsed on top of me, his ragged breath the only noise I could hear. I didn’t know what to make of what just happened. He brought his head up, his body still on top of mine. Our eyes met as he leant down and kissed me again. I was sure his kiss was different, something had changed between us. He rolled off of me and rather than leave, he pulled my body tight next to his. I cuddled up next to him and laid my head on his shoulder. 

“I’m really glad you came home with Katie. Maybe we can give this,” he gestured between us, “a real shot. I have to be honest I compare every woman to you.”

“What,” I said as I looked up at him. 

“Its true. I wasn’t coming home until I heard Katie was brining you home with her. I wanted the chance to see you again. I look for any chance I can to see you.”

“I don’t understand. You don’t like me, you told me so, to my face. Our hook-ups have been sloppy, drunken, hook-ups.”

“I lied, to you to myself. The alcohol, it was liquid courage.”

“For what? To sleep with me?”

“All of it, to talk to you. Ava, you take my breath away each time I see you.”

I put my head back down on his shoulder. I was speechless. How could I have been so blind? 

“Ava,” he said gently as he tipped my chin up towards his.

“I don’t know what to say,” I said honestly.

“Then kiss me.”

I leant up and kissed him, as he brought his hand to the side of my cheek and caressed it as we kissed. This was a kiss of affection, love, and it swallowed me whole in that moment and for the rest of my life. 

 

Ella glanced at her watch. It was ten p.m. Her neighbor, the doctor usually arrived home at around ten pm. on the dot each night, but not recently. The rhythms of life are what she missed as a global pandemic took hold, and life slowly came to a halt around her. 

She had paid attention to the news when the virus first emerged and stocked up on extra groceries and supplies in her tiny apartment just in case. She decided to ride out whatever was coming her way from home. Her cat Oscar was her company, and work kept her busy enough from home during the quarantine. 

Ella had spent more time in the apartment over the first month of quarantine than she did for the entire two years she had lived there. In that two years, she had met a few of her neighbors but only casually, a wave in the hall, or holding the downstairs door, leaving extra coins on the washer downstairs, that sort of thing. Last year a single man had moved in across the hallway, he was a doctor, or so she guessed as she often saw him in pale green scrubs. He kept odd hours typically, and they never seemed to meet. 

She remembered the day he moved in, he and his friends made so much noise trying to get his couch up the tight staircase in the 6-flat walk up. It was almost amusing to watch if it had not been so frustrating at the same time. That tight staircase was almost like a right of passage for the building, as each tenant had the same struggle on moving days. He and his four male friends had been good looking, but his dark curly hair, tan complexion, and deep brown eyes made butterflies fly around in her stomach when she looked at him. Ella wasn’t usually shy, but there was something powerful in the way he looked at her, giving off an air of intensity that she wasn’t sure she wanted to tangle with. 

Ella continued to listen as the hour grew later, and the hallway outside her door remained quiet. She couldn’t explain precisely why she had begun to listen for his comings and goings, but she had just the same. She dozed off on the couch with Oscar curled up next to her purring. She woke to the noise of keys, hitting the wood floor in the hallway.

“Shit,” a man’s voice said.

He had not been loud; the transom windows above her door did nothing to muffle outside noise from the hallway. She perked up and listened as she heard the keys drop again, followed by something substantial leaning up against the wall. A key was needed at the downstairs door to get in, so whoever was in the hallway was supposed to be there. She looked down at Oscar, the white furball with orange, black, and gray spots. He stretched out his paws and then curled back into a ball. Ella took it as his way of saying, you’re on your own with that one lady. She pried Oscar from her lap and got up to look out the peephole. She could see the doctor from across the hall fumbling with his keys still. Reaching for the doorknob, she hesitated. What if he’s sick, I’ve done a really good job staying in and helping do my part, she wondered. Before she could open the door, he walked into his apartment. Ella looked down at her watch that read 1 am. 

That night as she laid in bed, Oscar glued to her side again, she thought about the doctor across the hallway, him smiling with his friends. She found herself worrying about him. He lived alone; she never saw or heard anyone else come in our out of the apartment. She wondered how he was fairing, as the medical system was beyond stretched with resources. She wanted to help but wasn’t quite sure how. 

As she made dinner that night and idea struck, she’d make a plate for him. That night she made extra dinner and kept a plate warm in her oven for him. She listened for him to come home as she watched the ten o’clock news, then the Late Show. She finally got off of the couch to turn the oven off when she heard feet shuffle down the hallway. She grabbed the plate with a potholder and went to open her front door. 

The smiling doctor turned around at the noise of the door opening. Ella was shocked at how tired he looked. 

“Hi, I hope this isn’t weird, but I made you a plate of dinner. It’s a chicken breast, rice, and veggies. I know you’ve been keeping crazy hours, and I just thought a hot home-cooked meal might be nice with you working so hard.”

His face lightened as he smiled. 

“That’s very nice. That sounds delicious.”

Ella reached out her hand, “I’m Ella James.”

The doctor pulled his hands away.

“Right, sorry, I forgot, no handshakes any more.”

“It’s okay. Hi Ella, my name is Trevor. I don’t think we’ve formally met.”

“We haven’t, but that’s okay,” Ella said as she handed him the plate. “Careful, it’s hot.”

“Ow, it is.”

“Here, you can have the plate holder.”

He took it from her and put it under the plate. There was an award pause. 

“Thank you again, Ella, this is really kind.”

“It’s the least I can do. Thank you for serving our community. I’ll let you eat in peace. Have a good night Trevor.”

“You too, good night Ella.”

Ella shut the door behind her and took a deep breath. She felt like she had been holding her breath the entire time she spoke to Trevor. He reminded her of a tired warrior. She felt like she had done something to help the cause in feeding Trevor. The next day she reran the scene from the night before in her head again, and again. She decided to make him dinner again and waited up to give it to him hot. He stumbled in, looking more tired than the night before around 2 am. Ella opened her door and offered him a plate of spaghetti and homemade meatballs. He took it grateful for the hot food.

For the next two weeks, Ella had dinner waiting for Trevor. Giving him dinner had become the highlight in her increasingly mundane quarantine schedule. They didn’t talk much when she handed him food in the wee hours of the morning, nor did she expect it. Last night he had brought her a bouquet of flowers to say thank you. They were a total surprise, and she was touched at the gesture of gratitude, not that she ever expected one. The next day she put the vase of flowers on her desk and enjoyed them immensely. 

That night she cooked marinated lamb chops, couscous, and sautéed spinach. She sautéed the spinach at 10:30 pm for his portion, not wanting it to sit for hours. She waited for him to come in and felt a wave of excitement when she heard him shuffle down the hallway. She opened her door with the plate of dinner in her hand and looked at him. He had been crying, his eyes were red, and cheeks hastily dried. 

“Hi,” he said meekly.

“Hi,” she said softly in return. “Are you okay?”

“Today was,” he paused, “it was a rough day.”

“I’m sorry. I really am,” she said as she handed him the warm plate.” Do you want to talk about it? I’m a good listener.”

“Nah, thank you again for dinner. This is the highlight of my day.”

“Mine too. If you change your mind, you know where to find me. Good night Trevor.”

“Night, Ella.”

Ella walked into her apartment and felt awful for Trevor. She could only imagine what he was living through. She had stopped watching the nightly news as the information straddled a line between informative and terrifying. Oscar jumped off of the couch and wound between her ankles before he pranced off to his water bowl in the kitchen. She locked her door, turned off the lights, and climbed into bed. Seeing Trevor so distraught had bothered her. She thought about the difference of him smiling and laughing with his friends on moving day to the man that stood before her earlier; it broke her heart. She rolled over, and Oscar took the action as an invitation as he curled up in the crook of her knees. She drifted off and was almost asleep when she heard a soft knock on her door. She sat up and listened, thinking her mind was playing tricks on her. She got out of bed when she heard it again. She answered her door in her pajamas, a cotton knit top and matching pants that hugged her figure perfectly. She opened the door and saw Trevor standing there with a stack of her plates. He had showered, she could smell his shampoo, and stood there in pajama pants and t-shirt. Most people were better looking after they made some effort, Trevor was the opposite. His five o’clock shadow just made him more handsome, Ella thought. 

“Hi, I wanted to return these. I’m sorry if I woke you.”

Ella knew didn’t knock at almost 3 am to return plates, she knew he wanted something more but wasn’t exactly sure what.

“Thank you; you could have left them by the door.”

“I guess I could’ve, but I didn’t want them to get dirty or damaged, or stolen.”

He handed her just about every dinner plate she owned, and the stack was heavy. Still not completely awake, the plates slipped in her grasp, and the top four plates slid from the pile and hit the floor, breaking on impact. They had both bent down to catch them, as Ella cradled the other dishes to her chest, but neither of them had rescued the plate. 

“I’m so sorry, Ella!” 

“It’s alright it was my fault they slipped out of my hand.” She said as she turned and walked into her apartment, leaving the door open. She set the remaining plates on the kitchen counter and grabbed a broom and dustpan. When she returned to the hallway, Trevor already had a wastebasket from his apartment out and was picking up the larger pieces.

“I’m sorry, can I pay to replace them, or buy a new set?”

“No need. They’re old anyway.”

Ella swept the grit from the porcelain into the dustpan and tipped it into Trevor’s wastebasket.

“I wouldn’t go barefooted out here for a while,” she said as they both looked down at their bare feet and laughed.

“Would you like a cup of tea? I know it’s late but,” Trevor trailed off.

“I’d love one.”

“Great. It would just be nice to talk to someone who isn’t behind glass or a mask. But we should probably have tea in the hallway. I don’t want to risk infecting you.”

“Are you sick?”

“No, but I work with virus patients every day,” Trevor said as he walked into his apartment, leaving the door open. 

Ella stepped forward and stopped at the doorway of his apartment. She leaned up against the door jam.

“What do you do at the hospital?”

“I only have green tea, is that Okay,” Ella nodded it was, “I’m an anesthesiologist at Metro.” 

“That must be very rewarding.”

“It is most of the time.” He said, ducking below the counter. 

Ella heard the rumble of pots and pans.

“What are you looking for?” She asked, craning inside.  

“Sorry, I’m looking for my tea kettle.”

“I have on my stove. Why don’t I boil the water, and we’ll drink your tea?”

“Um…” She heard the pans spill out of the cabinet and hit the floor. Trevor stood up, “okay, thanks.”

Ella crossed the hallway back into her apartment, and Trevor came and stood in her doorway. She put the kettle on the stove and turned on. She set out two mugs and grabbed two green tea bags from her cupboard without thinking and dropped them into the empty mugs. Trevor was supposed to contribute the tea, but he didn’t say anything about it. 

“So you were saying that you’re an anesthesiologist. I am sure you’ve been very busy. I’ve been reading about how people are sedated before being put on a ventilator. Have you been working with virus patients?”

“I have. Normally I am the most welcome guy in the room. The doctor with the “good drugs,” everyone usually jokes. I won’t lie; my job isn’t always easy. Sometimes is sad. This virus, man, seeing what it does to the body. It’s been tough.”

“Is that what you were upset about earlier tonight when you got home?”

There was something about the way he looked at her after she asked that caused her to regret her choice of question. Perhaps it was too personal of a question. 

“I guess I didn’t hide it as well as I thought.”

“It’s okay. You’re saving lives, that takes an emotional toll.”

“It does. None of us have ever been through something like this. I see patients that I know that I am sedating that well never breathe on their own again. That’s rough. I’m sorry I shouldn’t be talking about this.”

“I don’t mind. We all need someone to talk to,” she said as she pulled the kettle that had begun to whistle off of the stove and poured the hot water into each cup.

“I have my family, but they’re in Colorado. I’m the only one out here. Three of my sisters are nurses. I know they’d get it, but we’re all keeping such crazy hours right now.”

“So, you’re one of three siblings?”

“I am actually one of eight.”

“Eight? Okay, I have to ask, Mormon? Catholic?”

“Nope,” he laughed, “hippie. My parents are very free spirits.”

“That’s pretty cool. I would have loved siblings,” she said as she put his cup of tea near him on the entry table and gestured for him to take it as she backed away. “I’m an only child. I think it is why I’ve done so all right so far during this. I’m used to being alone; it reminds me of my childhood.”

“You weren’t locked away, were you?’

Ella laughed, “no, I had a happy childhood. So, back to your work and tonight? I mean, we don’t have to discuss it if you don’t want to.”

“Ah, you remind me of my older sister Sparrow.”

“Is that good?”

“Yes,” he said before he sipped the tea.

He pulled away from his lips and looked down at the tea in the mug. “A colleague died today. I’ve worked with her for almost two years. She was alone; her husband and kids couldn’t be there to say goodbye. It was so fast too. She did everything right and still got sick. I hate this virus; it’s cruel; it’s a killer.”

“I’m so sorry that is heartbreaking. Were you there with her?”

“I was.”

Ella could see him welling up again, and it tugged at her heartstrings. 

“Then she wasn’t alone; she had a friend with her. I am sure your presence brought comfort to her, and I know it must have brought comfort to her family to know you were there.”

Trevor nodded as he wiped the corner of his eye with the back of his hand. Ella brought a box of tissue from the table in the living room and set it where she had put his tea. 

“I know it doesn’t feel like it, but there will come a time when all of this will be in the past. You are doing such important work Trevor, thank you. It warms my heart to know there are good people like you out there helping other. You were a good friend to your colleague until the end.”

Trevor nodded, and Ella sipped her tea.

“Can I ask you a question?” He said after he regained his composure. 

Ella nodded that he could as she took another sip of tea.

“Why did it take so long for us to meet? It’s odd, isn’t it? I keep hearing of stories like this.”

“We’re busy people normally with busy lives. I’m glad we met, though.”

“Me too. Thank you again for the dinners. They really have been the highpoint in my days. I find myself wondering all day what you’re making for dinner. I must confess, I love your cooking.”

Ella laughed. “I’m glad to do it.”

“What inspired you?”

“I don’t know exactly. I just wanted to help out in some way. I heard you come home one night and thought you must have had a really long day. I knew you worked at the hospital as a doctor, your mail says M.D., but I didn’t know exactly what you did.”

Trevor finished the last of the tea in his mug as he leaned up against the doorway. 

“Well, thank you. I’d hug you if I could to say thank you.”

Ella instantly wondered what it would be like to be in his arms and so much more. She bit her bottom lip to hold back an embarrassed smile from leaking out. 

“I should let you get to bed,” he said as he still held on to the mug. 

“You don’t have too if you don’t want to.”

“No, I should I’ve kept you up late enough. Thank you for this, and for the dinners. If you don’t mind, I’ll take this home and wash it; it will be safer. I can return it to you in the morning in one piece.”

Ella laughed softly, “Sure. Sleep well.”

“You too.”

Ella walked towards the door to close it behind Trevor. She could still smell his scent, and it made her tingle in all of the best ways. The next day she could not concentrate on anything other than thinking about dinner and talking to Trevor. She agonized over what to cook and eventually decided to roast a chicken. She purposely cooked it late, not starting it until eight pm. She didn’t expect Trevor until well after midnight but, she’d eat before then. 

The chicken finished cooking just before ten, and she pulled it out to let it rest and mashed potatoes to go with. She had roasted root vegetables alongside the chicken, and the apartment smelled delicious. She had just finished the potatoes when she heard a knock at her door. She dried her hands and went to answer it. Trevor stood in the hallway with two boxes of dishes from Crate and Barrel. Ella couldn’t help but laugh.

“Hi, I wanted to replace the dishes I broke.” He said from behind the boxes.

“Here,” she said, moving out of the way, “set them on the dining room table. You didn’t have to do that.”

“I did. I broke your coffee mug this morning on my way out the door.”

Ella couldn’t help but laugh, “how?”

“Being stupid. My hands were too full and I dropped it. I couldn’t return another broken dish to you.”

“Where did you find an open Crate and Barrel?”

“I have a confession; these are not brand new. I wouldn’t have bought new ones had I been able to.”

“They’re still in the shrink wrap; I’m confused.”

“I mean they’re new. My sisters sent me a ton of stuff to set up house. These are from my storage unit. I’m sorry this sounds terrible. I’m normally a really good gift-giver.”

Ella laughed harder.

“What’s so funny?” Trevor stood with a confused look on his face.

“This is funny. I so appreciate the gesture. Have you eaten? I roasted a chicken with all of the trimmings.”

“That’s what that heavenly smell is.”

“Would you like to join me?”

“We shouldn’t be this close.”

“Well, you’re already here now. I can set us at different ends of the table. Or you can take it home with you if you prefer to eat alone?”

“No, it’s not that at all, I just don’t want to put you at risk.”

“Well, you just keep your distance, and I’ll keep mine, and thank you for the new dishes. I really like them. Dinner literally just finished.” 

“Do you normally eat so late?” 

“No, but I didn’t want the chicken to be dried out, so I started it later.”

“I hope you didn’t do it on my account?”

Ella smiled as she pulled two plates out of the cupboard. 

“Do you prefer white meat or dark meat?” She asked

“I don’t have a preference.”

Ella smiled and put a chicken breast and leg on his plate along with veggies and a heaping mountain of mashed potatoes. She put the plate on the far side, nearest to the door on the table, and set the cutlery alongside it, before turning around to grab hers. 

“Wow, this looks incredible,” he said as he stood behind his chair, waiting for her to join him. 

“Would you like a glass of white wine to go with?”

“Sure, as long as you’re having one.”

“I am,” she said. 

They ate the roasted chicken practically to the bone, and laughed, genuinely enjoying each other’s company. Ella found herself really liking Trevor, in more than a friendly way. The more she got to know him, the more there was to love. They talked well into the night and when it was time for Trevor to go, Ella walked over towards his plate to pick it up. She noticed the hesitation in his movement to move away.

“Ella, I’ve had the best time tonight.”

“Me too.”

“I wish I could touch you. Wait that came out wrong.”

Ella smiled, “I knew what you meant.”

“Thank you. Good night Ella,” he said as he walked towards the door. 

“Good night. Thank you for joining me for dinner.”

That night as Ella washed up, she had wish life was different at the moment; she would have loved to have Trevor touch her, even if it was just a hug. To be honest, she wanted more than a hug from him, and her mind carried on with that thought as she scrubbed the roasting pan for the chicken. 

The next night she couldn’t wait to see him. She made a pot of veggie chili and baked cornbread to go alongside. She had a small bowl around six and would have a larger bowl with him when he came in, if he was up for company. Ella waited up, and eventually fell asleep on the couch. Oscar pounced on her waking her and Ella was shocked to see that it was morning. She had slept through Trevor coming home. She jumped up from the couch and ran to the kitchen remembering she had left the chili cooking on the stove on low. The kitchen smelled of burnt chili. She pulled the lid from the top of the pot and looked at the black sludge at the bottom. Angry that she had wasted so much food she turned on the garbage disposal and tipped the pot down. Once it was empty, she filled it with hot soapy water and baking soda to soak. Leaving the pan, she crossed the hallway and knocked on Trevor’s door. She felt terrible that she had slept through him coming home and hoped that he didn’t get the wrong idea that she had not enjoyed their dinner together. 

She knocked, but Trevor didn’t answer. She was mad at herself all day that she had missed him. That night she cooked pasta, and made a chocolate cake to say sorry. She knew she didn’t owe him an apology, but she felt like she did. She waited up again, this time until 3:30 am. When he didn’t show, she finally went to bed, defeated, taking a slice of the decadent chocolate cake with her. She ate it in bed, keeping an ear out for Trevor’s footsteps down the hall, but she didn’t hear him. 

The next day, she had a nagging feeling that something was wrong, and no matter what she tried, she could not shake it. She reheated the pasta from the night before and waited up again. Trevor did not come home again. The next morning she woke early and knocked on his door, but he did not answer. In her gut, she knew something wasn’t right. That night she made dinner for herself and ate a more normal hour for herself. She set some dinner aside for him, and put the plate in the fridge not wanting to repeat the chili incident. She fell asleep on the couch again and was awoken by the sound of his door closing across the hall. She jumped up off of the couch as Oscar let out a sharp meow, showing his displeasure. She stopped just outside his door, as she had doubts, what if he had been purposely giving her the slip, she wondered. As she stood in front of his door she heard his footsteps approach and she backed away as silently and quickly as she could. She just reached the inside of her doorway and had not yet pulled the door closed when she heard his door open. She cringed with her back to him, she had been caught. Slowly she turned around and saw Trevor standing there. His cheeks were tear-stained, and his eyes were red and swollen. He wore more than a day’s worth of stubble. The sight of him caused Ella to gasp.

“Trevor, are you okay? What happened?”

“My dad died,” he said as he put his hands over his face.

The virus be damned, Ella crossed the hallway and wrapped Trevor in her arms. He hugged her back tightly until he pushed out of her embrace.

“We shouldn’t be this close.” 

“Trevor, I don’t care.”

“I do. If something happened to you because I was careless, I’d never forgive myself.”

“It’s my choice,” she said as she pulled him closer again.

She wrapped her arm around his neck, and he brought his lips to hers. She kissed him gently. 

“We shouldn’t do this,” he whispered. 

“I know but, you can’t be alone tonight. I couldn’t bear it.”

He bent down and kissed her again as he pulled her tighter to his body. She could feel his build, with her body pressed so closely to his. She wanted to sleep with him more than she wanted her next breath, but she knew like this; it wasn’t right. She pulled her lips away from him, the disconnection almost pain-inducing. He looked down at her.

“Come on,” she said and grabbed his hand, leading him into her apartment. 

Once inside, she shut the door behind him, and she pulled him towards the bedroom. Once inside, she leaned up and kissed him gently, removing his shirt over his head, and he reached for hers.

“Not yet,” she whispered. 

She kissed him again softly as she unbuttoned his pants and pushed them down his legs. He reached for her top again gently, and she took his hands into hers to stop him. 

“Pants first,” she said softly. 

He understood and kicked his pants off as he stood in her apartment in only his boxer and socks. She pulled away from him and pulled the covers back. He climbed into her bed, and she climbed in next to him still fully clothed. He pulled her body closer to his as he kissed her neck. She reached down and cupped each side of his face.

“Trevor,” she said softly.

He stopped and looked up at her.

“I want this, I really want this, but I also know you are hurting. I’m not a prude, but I don’t just jump into the sack either. I want this if you do. I just want to make sure..”

He kissed her again and pulled his head next to her chest. She wrapped her arms around his head and cradled him close as he cried. They fell asleep in each other’s arms, both knowing that this was something more, than a casual fling. Ella woke to soft kisses being planed on her neck and collarbone. Trevor had spooned up behind her and held her tightly. He smelled wonderful and she ran her hand over the dark hair on his arm as she turned to look at him.

“Hello,” she said softly.

“You are beautiful in the morning light.” 

She turned further and kissed him, as the rest of her body rolled towards him. He pulled her in closer. 

“How are you this morning?”

“I’m happy to be here in your bed with you. Thank you for last night.” 

He said as he continued to kiss down her neck.

“Did you go to Colorado? You haven’t been home. I was worried.”

He pulled his lips from her neck.

“I did. I got the call after out dinner together. I couldn’t be there with him. I couldn’t stay out there either; I was needed back here.”

“The hospital didn’t give you the time off?”

“They couldn’t. But it wasn’t that. I wanted to you there. It was the strangest thing, part of me felt like I had left you behind, here. I know that sounds crazy. I can’t explain it.”

Ella kissed Trevor, pouring all of the feelings she had for him into it.

“Wow,” he said, “I’ve wondered what kissing you would be like for so long.”

“And? Was it everything you’d hoped it would be?”

“It was better.”