November 11th, 1989

November 11th, 1989
At home

“Hey Karen, it’s David.”
Ah, that voice. “David! Hello! You’re up early.”
“Oh I guess old habits die hard,” he laughed.
“The beauty of a routine filled life.”
“I’ll bet that’s something you don’t get as a flight attendant.”
“Not at all,” I said.
“I know I have a hard time dealing with different time zones when I travel.”
“Actually I do too. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it.”
“Well I’m surprised you picked up, I figured I’d be talking to your mom first.”
Instinctively, I looked upstairs and felt a pang of sadness.
“Hey Karen? You there?”
“Yes.”
“Are you ok?” he asked.
“Eh, yeah, sorry. My mum’s actually not been feeling well recently.”
“Oh that’s too bad. Does she have like the flu, or something?”
“Something like that,” I said, not quite knowing what else to say.
“Okay, tell your mom I hope she gets better soon.”
“I will, thanks,” I said, suddenly feeling like I might cry.
“So, I was talking to a buddy of mine here at work who knows Tokyo pretty well and he said I can take a train from Tokyo to Narita.”
“Oh, that sounds promising.”
He laughed. “I love your expressions.”
I felt myself blush. “So, eh, do you think you might want to do that?”
“Sure, if it’s ok with you?”
“Absolutely, it’d be great to meet up.”
“Cool. Okay, I had another idea.”
“Go ahead.”
He laughed again. “How about if I get a room at your hotel? I could stay for two nights before I go home?”
Several visions of us “Going To London,” together flew through my head and I felt my cheeks flush again.
“That sounds like a great idea.”
“Are you sure?” he asked.
“Absolutely. Let’s do it.”

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