Race to Her

As I drive through downtown Chicago, I realized that I blew a red light. Oops. At this moment, nothing else matters except getting to O’Hare Airport to stop the love of my life from getting on that airplane. It is scheduled to start boarding in thirty minutes and I know that she will wait for the last call, to see if I chase after her, to get on the plane. I am just hoping that I can make it as I hit the Elgin-O’Hare expressway.
My mind goes back to memories of us together. My girl, Miranda, she’s a looker. She is on the shorter side, but not too short. She never wears too much makeup and looks amazing in whatever she wears. I may be biased, but I don’t care. And her best quality happens to be that she knows me, inside and out. I can not say that about another person on this Earth and yet I let her make it to the airport in the first place.
I think back to when I first met Miranda. She was standing in line, waiting to board an airplane to her hometown. Ironic, that I met her in line for an airplane and now I am stopping her from getting on one. She wore plain travel clothes – a tee shirt and yoga pants. Her luggage was purple and her purse was pink. She stood out like a sore thumb and I liked it. She was not afraid to be who she wanted to and so I struck a conversation with her as we both awaited the boarding process. As it happened, we were sitting in the same row, a window and an aisle. Thankfully for us, no one claimed the middle seat and so we continued our conversations throughout the long flight. When our flight landed, we exchanged cell numbers and stayed in touch. I eventually saw her again when we decided to meet up back in Chicago and things took off from there.
Now I am thinking about what brought us to today, where I am racing down the highway. She wanted a commitment from me. I told her that I loved her and wished to spend the rest of my life with her, but I never proposed marriage. I never thought that it was necessary seeing that we have been together for ten years and live together already. So when her birthday came and went without a ring, she started to pick fights. Tomorrow is Christmas Day and I know now that I do want to marry Miranda. It took her going to the airport, to go home to the UK, to make me realize that I love her enough to give her that much, a marriage.
I finally reached the entrance to the airport and read the signs for departures. I already knew that I had to have a stupid ticket to get through security, so I had quickly purchased one for the same flight that Miranda did, just in case she had already boarded but the hatch was still open. So when I hit the curb, I quickly jumped out and left it sitting, not caring if it got towed.
I quickly ran to the nearest security gate I could find and hurried through. The airport was the emptiest I have ever seen it, considering it was Christmas Eve I would have figured for the less traffic. I was breezing through the line and quickly fished my ID out of my wallet to give to the security agent checking tickets. She approved me as she noticed my rush and I toed off my shoes and tore my jacket from my body to place in a bucket to go through the scanners.
I went through the body scanner and had to be patted down quickly, but was let go without finding anything. I quickly tore through the airport, shoeless, to get to the gate that was already boarding.
I swear that I never imagined O’Hare airport to be as long as it is. Running down the terminal halls, I quickly realized that I was out of shape as I huffed my way to the gate that my future wife was at.
When I found the right gate, they had just closed the door to the airplane. I ran faster to the nearest attendant of the airlines than I did the entire time I ran from security. I started to plead with her to let me on and get my fiancé. The attendant looked softly at me, probably pitying me.
“I’m sorry, Sir. They already closed the plane. There is nothing I can do,” I was automatically defeated. I thanked her and turned, running a hand over my face in exasperation and exhaustion.
I sat down and looked at the ground to make sure to catch my breath. I was not ready to go back to the place I left my car, positive that it was already towed or in the process of being towed. A few tears managed to find their way out of the corners of my eyes. It was weak, but I didn’t know if Miranda would take me back now that she had boarded her plane to the UK.
“If I heard you correctly, it sounded like you told that attendant that you were looking for your fiancé. Is that right?” I heard an all-so-familiar voice pop out of nowhere. I quickly looked up and found my Miranda, purple luggage and all.
“Yeah, well, I was planning on asking her if I could get her off the plane she was on. Or maybe even on the plane. I wasn’t exactly sure how I was going to do it, I just needed her first,” I said with a small smile as I stood. She walked a little closer to me as did I.
“What would you do if she was here, right now?” Miranda questioned, still in this little role playing moment.
“Marry me,” I replied. I wasn’t going for overly romantic, just letting her know that it was what I wanted. That’s all I was trying to do.
“I thought you would never ask,” she exclaimed as she flew into my arms. I caught her and twirled her around before placing a kiss on her lips. I knew then that I would make a lot of mistakes as a husband, but I could always make it right with this woman. No one else could ever make me this crazy or happy, that is for sure.