The cell phone chimed close to my ear. Curiously, I squinted across the room at the clock. It was before five. The butterflies fluttered in my stomach as I answered the phone. The voice that responded to my greeting was soft and affectionate. "I'm just outside of Chicago."
"Wow, you've made good time," I replied, sleepy but alert.
"Yeah, the roads have been empty. Do you know how far away you are from Chicago?"
"About two and a half hours." Midwesterners tend to measure distance by units of time.
We disconnected. I sat in the dark and stared into nothingness. The entire spectrum of feeling passed through as I tried to grasp what the day would mean to my future. Nerves, they were vibrating as I played peacekeeper upon the battlefield between my excitement and my melancholy. A few moments passed, and I allowed my somnambular steps to carry me toward my mother's room.
It was a Friday morning, and I happened upon her as she prepared for work. I relayed news of my phone call and shifted my weight from one leg to the other. She smiled at me encouragingly. "Why don't you hop in the shower? It will make you feel better." I did as she suggested, and found something soothing in the routine. Afterward, I sat upon the edge of her bed as she applied her makeup. We spoke in hushed tones in deference to the sleeping household.
"Have you got everything organized?" she inquired cheerfully. I nodded with a smile and looked down as I twiddled my thumbs. "Remember to call Grandma to say goodbye, ok? She's an early riser." I nodded again, smiling again. "And your dad really wants to see you off...so make sure you either call his cell or page him when the time comes."
I walked with her to the front door as she left for work. We embraced profoundly, and sent each other off with the blessings of love. As her taillights evaporated into the golden morning, I settled into an overstuffed chair situated in my aunts' living room, my elbows propped against the fluffy arms of the piece. Gazing through the large bay window, I steepled my fingers and pressed them to my lips. How did I come to this moment? I survived twenty years without spontaneity, and there I stood on the threshold of the mother load of impulse.
The journey started June 21, 1998. The place? Cyberspace...ah, the internet. What a lovely place for an introvert to exist. Chat programs were just starting to come into their own, and I downloaded one at the invitation of a friend. ICQ, anybody? It is perhaps an understatement to say that I was addicted to online communication in those earlier days. I selected the ICQ random chat feature one evening. The first two individuals it found were nothing shy of odd—but there was something special about the third. I found one of my best friends in Miles.
The yelping phone uprooted me from my musings. I jumped at it. "Hello? Miles?"
"Yeah, I caught Chicago at the wrong time. I don't know how much longer I'll be, but I wanted to let you know."
Another call came just after ending the previous. "Laura? Are you still there?" came my mother's surprised inquiry.
"Yes, he got caught up in Chicago traffic. "
"Oh, poor guy...well I just wanted to make sure that you didn't leave without saying goodbye."
"I won't forget to say goodbye. I promise you."
Silence returned, and I stared into the blazing morning sun. This was it. I was leaving a wealth of people who loved me...and I was leaving with a man that I had yet to meet. I am an i-dotter and t-crosser...this was all very unlauralike behavior.
As I fought to reason the way out of my unease, a red Nissan Maxima pulled into the driveway. A tallish man dressed in denim and a travel-weary polo shirt lumbered toward the front door and the last piece of the puzzle fell into place. The anxiety dissolved and I knew this was the right decision.
The day was May 3rd, 2002. Miles, I'll follow you anywhere...everywhere.
