Daniel had noticed the dark-haired woman when she first boarded the plane back in Salt Lake City. She took a seat a few rows ahead of him and he could see the edge of her if he leaned out of his seat a little, which he did, just to satisfy his curiosity. She carried a leather satchel and a camera case, and wore a pair of heavy black shoes, the kind with thick knobby soles, good for roughing it or for looking like you might rough it if you needed to. But what really interested him was the way the woman's hair fell like a tea-colored waterfall down her shoulder.
Daniel wondered how it would feel under his fingers, how her hair would smell if he buried his nose in the woman's neck. Or, better yet, how would it feel to have her hair hang down around him as they kissed.... As this reverie washed over him, Daniel felt his breath settle for a long moment deep in his lungs, then felt it rise up slow, and savored the fleeting remnant of spring fever that could still make him swoon, from time to time. Of course, he didn't dwell on the feeling, since he knew it wouldn't do him any good to get too turned on now, thirty-thousand feet up in the air and still hours from home, so he sat back in his seat and turned his attention to the square of darkness outside his window. Out there, the world was wrapped in the velvet cloak of a moonless night. The dark-haired woman slipped out of his thoughts, her shadowy image wafting away to mingle with the invisible clouds. Now thoroughly relaxed, Daniel clicked on the overhead light and reopened the book he'd been reading.
Later, when the plane landed in Memphis, where Daniel had to transfer to the flight that would take him to Durham, he noticed the woman with the beautiful hair again. She walked ahead of him down the concourse of the somnolent airport, her satchel over one shoulder, her camera case in her other hand. She didn't seem to be in a hurry, and Daniel had a hard time adjusting his pace so that he didn't overtake her on the way to the distant gate. She was tall and slender, with a nice little ass, the muscular kind that you can get from riding a bike or running.
Her hair swayed to and fro against the small of her back, nearly hypnotizing Daniel, who was already feeling a weird buzz from traveling in the middle of the night. He enjoyed the view until, about halfway down the ramp, the woman suddenly stopped and turned to face him, a questioning look on her face. Daniel pulled up short, momentarily worried that he had been found out as an amateur stalker. But, no, the woman wanted to know if she was heading toward the right gate. She told him when he caught up with her that she had never been through this airport before, that she was looking for Gate 9. She showed him her ticket as she explained her confusion. Daniel smiled and told her, no, she was fine, Gate 9 was just ahead, that he was heading there himself, for a flight to North Carolina.
They walked the rest of the way together, after they introduced themselves. Her name was Laurie, and she was a photography teacher at an art school in Raleigh. He told her a little about himself, that he owned a bookstore near the university in Durham. Laurie nodded and said, hey, yeah, the one with the cool old stained-glass window, and Daniel said, yes, that's the one. They laughed a little about the small coincidences of life, then took seats next to each other in the passenger waiting area near Gate 9.
They weren't there long, however, when an announcement came over the loudspeaker, a voice breaking the peace of the deserted concourse to tell the few travelers that Flight 219 was delayed by a snowstorm that was hovering over the mountains to the east. Daniel checked with the attendant on night-duty, and found that there wasn't much chance of anyone going anywhere until at least that afternoon. Laurie shook her head in a show of frustration, then her mood brightened when Daniel suggested they go get something to eat, perhaps a late-night dinner, or an early-morning breakfast, whichever she preferred. Sure, she said, that would be good. They were both traveling light, and had nothing to check, so they left the gate and ambled up the concourse in search of an overnight restaurant.