Angel Flight

"Could we maybe talk later? If you have time?"

Not sure of when or where, James only said, "Of course," then continued on.

There were a good thirty members of the Stewart family assembled along with another six service people in uniform. A man of about 70 walked up and introduced himself as David Stewart, Miles's oldest son. He shook James's hand and thanked him for taking such a personal interest in his father.

"It was my pleasure, sir," he told him sincerely.

The cargo door opened and he heard the head of the detail quiet say, "Group, ten-hut!"

The flag-draped coffin was slowly extended then lowered hydraulically as the group saluted in unison. Once it stopped moving, the salutes were cut, and the detail moved to carry Miles to another waiting hearse.

James glanced up and noticed faces were plastered against every window as the passengers respectfully waited in honor of this veteran of the Second World War. Once the detail turned toward the vehicle waiting for them, the captain let the passengers know they were free to depart and thanked them for their patience and respect.

James shook hands with quite a few of the family members who ranged in age from 70 to seven months. He shook hands with David one last time then asked when the memorial service would be.

"This Saturday at 10am at the Tahoma national cemetery in Kent. We'd very much appreciate it if you could be there," the 'younger' Stewart told him.

"I wouldn't miss it," James told him before they parted company.

He stood there until the hearse drove away, and found himself blinking back tears, something he couldn't remember doing in many years outside of this last 48 hours or so.

He turned around and wondered who would be coming to escort him inside, and to his very pleasant surprise was the most beautiful flight attendant he'd ever seen.

"Hi," she said sweetly.

"Hello," he replied, his mood lifting as evidenced by the smile on his face.

"I was wondering if we might be able to sit down and talk," she said.

"Sure. I'd like that."

"I just need to take care of a couple of administrative things, but if you'll come with me, you can wait in the crew lounge."

As they walked, Kimber said, "That was perhaps the most emotional two-day period of my life, other than when I lost my husband."

"Same here," James said, not wanting to mention that a significant part of the emotion was caused by feelings he was having for her.

"Do you know when his memorial service will be?" she asked.

"This Saturday at 10am in Kent. At the Tahoma national cemetery."

"Would you mind if I went?" she asked as though she needed his permission.

"Of course not. I'd very much like it if you did," he told her. Again, he wanted to tell her he'd like her to go with him, but he wasn't going to press the issue until they'd cleared the air.

"I have an apartment in Tukwila," she told him. "So it's not much of a drive for me."

"Oh, okay. I uh, I live in Renton."

He almost added 'with my mom' but thought that might not be the best thing to say to a woman who was independent and unlikely to find that very appealing in a grown man.

"We're practically neighbors," Kimber said with a smile as they got to the crew area.

She opened the door with her card reader then walked him in and showed him where he could sit.

"I'll just be a few minutes, okay?"

"Take your time," he told her.

True to her word, Kimber was back in less than five minutes.

"So did you maybe want to talk here?" she asked. "Not in the lounge, of course, but somewhere in the airport?"

"I could go for another cup of coffee," he told her.

"Same here," she said with a kind of weak smile.

Not surprisingly, they ended up in a Starbucks coffee shop where James again insisted on paying for hers, too. They found an open table, sat down, and took a first sip before Kimber spoke.

"First of all, I'm very sorry for being so...distant. I've been struggling with this whole...raft of emotions since, you know, since Miles passed away."

"That was hard watching a man die. Even one his age."

"You feel so helpless and so...sad," she said.

James took another sip before Kimber said, "But it's more than that, James. It's also about the feelings you stirred up in me after that happened."

Not sure if he should say anything, James again waited for her to continue.

"You know I don't date passengers, and yet yesterday felt very much like a date to me, and I guess what caused the most confusion was when I realized I was having the best time I've had since, well, since my husband was alive."

Now feeling slightly encouraged, James knew better than to chime in so he took another sip, and used body language to let her know he was listening and very interested.

"I think that's when the other feelings hit me," she said.

"Other feelings?" James asked, finally breaking his silence.

"Yes. The confusion and the uncertainty. And most of all...the fear."

"What would you be afraid of, Kimber?"

"Of getting hurt. Of opening myself up to someone like...no...to...you. To James Kirk, who's, well, I don't even want to say the number of years out loud, younger than me. Of doing that then finding out I was just a kind of...I don't know. A plaything. Something...different."

She sat there looking at him then said, "Does that make any sense to you? Am I making any sense?"

"It does and you are," he told her. "Generically, I understand what you're saying. But I'm an individual and not some generic guy. So while you could hypothetically get hurt by someone who didn't genuinely care about you, I'm not that guy, Kimber."

Even more confident, he reached out for her hand again, and when he did, she gave hers to him almost immediately.

"I'm not like that. I would never intentionally hurt you. I would never say or do anything to make you feel like you weren't the amazing, beautiful, and very special woman you are. To me, you're all of those things and more."

She smiled at him, and when she did, he gently squeezed her hand.

"I've not only never met anyone like you before, I've never felt this way about a woman in my life. I haven't been able to stop thinking about you since you took my arm at the memorial, and I haven't been able to stop hoping I hadn't somehow offended you or given you a reason not to want to see me again."

Kimber shook her head and said, "No. It isn't you, James. You've done nothing but be wonderful and amazing. It's all me. I dearly loved my husband, and losing him nearly killed me. Ever since, I've had a terribly difficult time trusting anyone. And yesterday, when I realized I trusted you, when it hit me that I really enjoyed being with you, it...it scared me."

"Because you might get hurt, right?"

"Yes. I think I went into some kind of 'self-preservation' mode until I could think things through."

"Was there something specific that changed your mind?" he asked.

She smiled at him then said, "When I saw you standing there, outside the plane, shaking hands and well, doing your duty, I realized or at least I felt like I really could trust you."

"That's a good thing, right?" he said with a smile.

"It is."

Her short answer raised a red flag.

"But?" he asked, knowing one was coming.

"But...there's still this very large age difference between us, and that's never going to change," she told him, her smile gone, and genuine concern replacing it.

"So are you telling me you'd be...uncomfortable...being seen with me?"

He nearly used the word 'ashamed' but chose something a little softer.

"No. Not at all. I'm not the one who's young and gorgeous, James. I'm...I'm 43 years old, and no longer..."

"Hey," James said quietly, interrupting her. "Please stop."

He got up and moved his chair over to her side of the table, then took her hand again.

"I would be so proud and so happy to be seen with you, Kimber. Anytime, anywhere."

He watched her eyes watching his as he spoke and continued.

"You are so beautiful it...it hurts," he told her.

"But I'm..."

"You're perfect," he told her. "In every way."

Their eyes were locked, and their faces were only a foot or so away from each other.

"Then, if you'd still like to see me again, I think I'd very much like to go out with you," she said as their eyes danced.

"I'd like that," James told her.

She saw him moving toward her, and her heart raced as he said, "Very much," just before kissing her softly.

Their lips slowly parted, and as they did, Kimber looked down for a moment before looking back up at him.

"Will you call me?" she asked.

"Guaranteed," he told her as he handed her his phone. He opened up his 'contacts' page and let her enter her name and number.

When she handed it back to him he asked, "Is this evening too soon?"

"Uh-uh," she told him.

Then she smiled happily and said, "It's actually a long time to make me wait, but I think I can hold out."

He laughed quietly, and Kimber's beautiful smile got even more beautiful before he said, "May I walk you outside?"

"I always take a cab or the shuttle that goes right by my apartment complex," she told him.

"I have an older car," he began saying.

He stopped, smiled, then said, "Okay, it's actually pretty much on its last legs, but it runs. I'd be happy to give you a ride home if you wouldn't be embarrassed to ride in it."

Kimber smiled happily then said, "Well, as long as you're in it with me, I suppose I could endure a short ride in it."

James smiled but he didn't laugh. He didn't because he was mesmerized by her beauty.

He wasn't even aware he was speaking until he'd said it, but he told her, "My God. You are so unbelievably beautiful."

Kimber stopped smiling, and again, her heart began pounding as his words entered first her brain and then her soul. The words, along with the way he said them and the way he looked at her moved her to the point of tearing up.

James saw her blink several times and asked if she was okay.

"I will be if you'll kiss me again," she told him ever-so quietly as she leaned toward him.

Neither of them cared they were in public as she slid her arms around his neck while he touched her pretty face as they kissed much more passionately. Being in public was quite possibly the only thing that kept them from going further, but both of them now knew that doing so was only a matter of time.

"Come on. Your chariot awaits," James said when the long, slow kiss finally ended.

His one bag was almost the only thing left on the carousel when they got to baggage claim, hand in hand. James grabbed it when it came around, and Kimber pulled her luggage behind her as they walked, the sound of her heels clicking with each step.

When they got to the parking garage, and James stopped at the worst-looking car anywhere around them, Kimber tried not to laugh, but couldn't help it.

"Am I going to have to push?" she asked as he opened the trunk.

"Maybe, but once it gets going we should be fine," he told her as he carefully placed her things inside.

He walked her to the passenger door then said, "You may want to step back," as he gave the door a huge pull. It creaked and stuck then gave way, and Kimber laughed again.

"Thank you—I think," she said as she got in and looked around. The interior was old and worn, but everything was clean and orderly, and there wasn't so much as a wrapper on the floor.

James got in, then said, "It can get a little loud at times."

Kimber laughed as she stuck her fingers in her ears.

"Okay, fire it up it, Captain!"

James gave her a look and that made her laugh even louder. She took her fingers out and said, "I forgot all about the 'Captain Kirk' thing. I was just referring to you as the captain of your ship. Or chariot, maybe?"

James gave her a playful 'uh-huh, sure' look, then turned the key.

When it came to life, the noise startled Kimber to the point she made a loud shrieking noise then laughed again.

"Well, you did warn me!" she said loudly.

As he backed out, Kimber said, "Please tell me the heater works."

James stopped, dropped it into drive, then said, "I promise never to lie to you so...I can't tell you that."

November was a very cold month in Seattle. Not like Minnesota or Canada cold, but it was dark, wet, gray, and rainy most of the time, and this was no exception.

James quickly peeled off his jacket, and laid over Kimber's bare legs.

"That's about the best I can do," he told her.

She pulled it tight around her very shapely legs, smiled, then said, "It's more than enough. Thank you."

The car roared loudly when he stepped on the gas, and Kimber couldn't help but laugh again. She couldn't help it, not because it was all that funny, but because she was so happy it wasn't possible not to laugh.

Because of the noise, neither of them said much on the very short drive to Tukwila. Kimber's apartment was less than three miles from the airport, so in spite of the heavy traffic, it was a very quick trip.

As he got her luggage out, he asked if he could carry it upstairs and inside for her.

"I'm not sure that would be such a good idea," she said with a smile. "The way I feel right now, I'm not sure I could um...resist your charms."

"Even after riding in...this?" James said as he nodded toward his clunker.

"Well, that did make quite the impression on me. I'll grant you that," she said very sweetly.

James set her things down and asked, "Have I scared you away yet?"

"Why? Because your car isn't brand new?"

"Brand new? Um, it hasn't been brand new since...well, since 2001."

Kimber tried not to laugh when she asked for clarification.

"Do you mean the actual year or when the movie, 2001 A Space Odyssey, came out?"

"No, the year itself," he told her.

"Oh, good. For a minute there I was wondering."

James faced her then took her hands and said very seriously, "Let's see. That movie came out in the late '60s, if I'm not mistaken."

"Yes, it did," Kimber said as she put her hands on his collarbones.

James tilted his head slightly, a perplexed look on his face, then said, "So...how old were you when it was released?"

Kimber's eyes opened wide, and she sucked in a loud breath of disbelief before saying, "I'll have you know I wasn't born until 1975, buddy. So there!"

"Nineteen seventy-five?" James said with feigned disbelief.

"Yes. That's correct. You got a problem with that?" she said trying to sound tough.

James pulled her close and said, "Nope. Not at all," before he kissed her again.

As the kiss ended, he said, "Oh. Um...1992 here."

Her eyes got wide again as she said, "Oh, my God! You're...you're a...baby!"

James laughed then said, "And you're...a babe."

Kimber put her arms around him, hugged him hard then said, "I'm so glad we met."

"Me, too," he told her.

"I wish it had been under different circumstances, but, well, if the circumstances were any different, we probably wouldn't have met."

James smiled at her then looked up and said, "Miles? If you had anything to do with this...thank you."

Kimber smiled happily then added, "Yes. Thank you very much," before she kissed him again.

"I'll call you," he told her.

"You better," she 'warned' him.

As she walked away, he watched her, then out of the blue he wolf whistled.

Kimber turned her head around, smiled, then shook her tush for him.

James whistled again then called out, "You are so hot!"

Kimber laughed and said, "Bye, James!" before disappearing into a stairwell.

When he got back into his car, he sat there for a moment then said out loud, "I am so gonna marry that woman."

When he got home, James's mother started crying and hugged her son.

"I saw it all on the news! I'm so sorry for you and for that wonderful man."

"Thanks, Mom. He was pretty amazing."

She let go of him then asked, "Are you okay?"

"I am. Great actually."

"Oh. I just thought that with all this drama you might be upset or need to talk," she said.

Glenda Kirk knew her son wasn't the talkative type, but he'd always let her know when something was wrong.

"There really isn't much to talk about. And yet, I could probably talk for hours about my impressions and all the things I wish I could have asked him. But as odd as it seems, it's almost as though it was his destiny to die there."

Her son's voice was distant, and that told her he'd been deeply moved by it all. And then, without warning, he said, "Mom, there's something I do want to talk about."

"Oh, okay," she said. "Come in and sit down. Can I get you anything?"

"No. No, thanks. I just need to tell someone."

"Tell someone...what?" she asked. "Did you get into some kind of trouble?"

He did his best not to laugh, but he couldn't help smiling that his mother, who knew him better than anyone on earth, would think he'd gotten into some kind of trouble as James Kirk had never even had a traffic ticket.

They sat down and James told his mom, "I met someone."

"Another girl?" she asked, not trying to be flip. She just knew there was a very long string of girls in his past, and she never asked about them.

"Yes. Well, no. Not exactly, anyway," he said. "She's not a girl, Mom. She's a woman."

His mom sat up straight and was now very interested.

"Someone you really like?" she asked hopefully.

"Yeah. I really like her, Mom. A lot."

"Well, I'm so happy for you, honey. Tell me about her. What's her name? What does she do?"

"Her name is Kimber."

"Kimberly is a lovely name," his mom said.

"No. Kimber without the '-ly' at the end."

"I don't think I've ever heard of that name, but it's still very pretty."

"She's a flight attendant, and I met her on the flight to DC. She sat down to talk to Mr. Stewart, and I overheard most of the conversation."

"I'm assuming she's very pretty," his mom offered, knowing she had to be.

"She's beautiful, Mom. Stunningly so."

"Well, that's wonderful. Does she live around here?"

"Yes. Over in Tukwila."

"That's not far, at all."

James took a deep breath, exhaled then said, "Mom? She's quite a bit older than me."

"Older?" his mom asked. "As in over thirty, older?"

"Um, yes," James said.

"Well, I suppose that's okay," his mom said. "Does she have children?"

"No. No children. She's a widow."

"Oh, my. That's terrible."

"I don't know much about what happened, but we spent some time together yesterday, and I don't know. I've never had so much fun. But not...fun fun. It was more that I've never felt more connected with anyone in my life."

"This sounds serious," she said.

"I don't know about that, but I think I'd like it to be."

"Well, why don't you invite her over sometime? I love to cook, and I'd really like to meet her. And being a little over thirty isn't really that big a deal."

"She's a little older than that, Mom."

"I see," she said quietly. "May I ask how much older?"

James nodded as he said, "Of course you can. I just want you to keep on open mind, okay?"

"James. You're scaring me. I just read a story online about a 19-year boy who married a 72-year old woman. In the UK, no less. And no, I'm not kidding."

James finally laughed then said, "It's not that bad, Mom. Kimber is...43."

"Oh, my," she said again before trying to compose herself. "Well, I know you're a very intelligent, thoughtful young man, so if you say she's...wonderful...then I have to believe she is."

"I know how it sounds, Mom. Or at least I can imagine how it must sound. But like I said, I've never met anyone like her. I can't stop thinking about her, and I want to be with her all the time."

"Well, if that's the case, then I think you should follow your heart," his mom said.

In her heart of hearts, Glenda couldn't help but wish this woman was at least ten years younger, but she trusted her son, and if she meant that much to him, she would do her best to be supportive. Besides, the fact that he currently liked her or really liked her, didn't mean it was going to last.