“Okay, girl, let’s get this day started.” DeAndre directed his attention back to me. I threw my head back in protest. “Jillian!” DeAndre scolded. “What if you never get to Munich again and you slept through half your time here?”
“Exactly!” Nino agreed. “There’s plenty of time for sleep. Go enjoy the sites!” Easy for him to say. I was certain he had more than likely gotten a full night of sleep.
“Fine,” I relented. “But first, can I hit the ladies’ room?”
“I guess, I’ll allow that,” DeAndre teased.
I walked down the hallway and located the bathroom. As I entered the stall, I wondered if DeAndre would come in looking for me if I decided to take a nap on the toilet. Certain he would, I finished up and decided to tough it out until the room was ready. I didn’t want to see my reflection as I stood at the sink, placing my hands under the tepid water, waiting for it to warm up, but I couldn’t help myself. Worse than expected. Purple shadows outlined my swollen blue eyes, my blond hair was plastered to my head, and the makings of a zit was beginning to form on my chin.
I splashed some water on my face, washing off any last remnants of makeup from the day prior, then patted my skin with a paper towel. I reached for the elastic band on my wrist and cinched my hair into a low, stubby ponytail.
“Pretty scary,” I whispered to my reflection. Truth was, I hadn’t cared much about my appearance since Evan had died. Most days it was a struggle just to get out of bed and find shoes that matched. In a way this trip made me step up my game. I had taken an overdue trip to the salon, had my hair that had lost any semblance of style months ago cut into a shoulder-length bob and gotten my uni-brow waxed back into two. The girl at the salon tried talking me into getting my nails done as well, but I drew the line with hair and brows. I had to admit, it did make me feel human again on the outside, but on the inside I was still like a zombie who was being forced to face this world full of guilt and regret, wishing I could go back and change the past.
I reached into my purse and applied some tinted lip gloss just as a woman walked in and flashed a nervous smile at me through the mirror, the kind that says, I want to be friendly, but I’m not sure how you’ll respond. I smiled back, thinking how put together she looked, but at that point in time, it didn’t take much to look more put together than me.
I exited the ladies’ room, pausing for a moment and listening to the soothing voice of Harry Belafonte singing, Mary’s Boy Child, faintly through the overhead speakers. My favorite Christmas song was oddly providing me a sense of comfort at that moment. I couldn’t help but wonder if all Christmas songs were in English. A silly thing to ponder, but my wary brain couldn’t handle much else for the time being. As I turned the corner and headed into the lobby DeAndre was standing next to a tall dark-haired man, laughing like they were old friends. DeAndre had a contagious personality. It was apparent within just the first few minutes of meeting him. I cleared my throat and they both stopped talking and focused their attention on me. “Oh, Jillian, meet Theo, he’s in our group,” DeAndre introduced.
The man who stood before me had a headful of thick, unruly, dark curls and was uniquely handsome. His big eyes were a shade of bright hazel green with the left one appearing to be turning slightly outward as if he had a lazy eye that had never been corrected. Oddly, it made him even cuter in a weird sort of way.
“Hey there, I’m Jillian.” I extended my hand to him and he took it gently in his.
“Nice to meet you, Jillian.” His voice was gravelly and his accent British. “Is this your wife?” he asked DeAndre, whose smirk was growing larger by the second as I tried to stifle my laughter. Clearly, he didn’t realize that DeAndre and I had only met ten hours prior or that DeAndre was gay, so it was a totally logical question. Given the fact that DeAndre and I were both privy to this information coupled with the jet lag that was making us both loopy, neither one of us could hold back our laughter.
Theo flashed an awkward smile, and I finally pulled it together enough to form a coherent sentence. “I’m sorry, we’ve both been up all night with the flight and everything, so we’re being a little silly.” I cleared my throat, trying to sound a little more serious. “We actually just met about a half hour before we got on the plane.”
“Oh.” He nodded, still seeming a little perplexed by our bizarre behavior.
“And…I have a boyfriend,” DeAndre clarified.
“Oh…okay.” Theo nodded once again, this time with more confidence now knowing the cause of our laughter, even managing a slight chuckle himself over the whole misunderstanding. “So, I know you’re both from America, but what part?”
“New York,” we both replied in unison.
“I’m from the city and Jillian here is from the country,” DeAndre added.
I rolled my eyes at him, remembering our conversation at the airport bar about the demographics of where we lived. DeAndre was a diehard New Yorker, growing up in Queens and now living in Manhattan, so anyone who didn’t live within the five boroughs was considered a country bumpkin in his opinion. “I actually live about forty-five minutes from the city.
