A Call to Kate

He cogitated with total delight at his coffee corner flirtations with Kate at the office, and at how she could fall easily into his little play of words. Images past flashed in slow motion, at how his phone conversation with her went on, seconds before he left his flat. He smiled to himself with pleasure.

'You missed something,' Kate said.

'Did I?'

'You didn't bother to say goodbye.'

'Oh, I'm sorry, Katie. I will make it up to you on my return.'

'Hey, the boss said that you should call immediately on arrival. And that our man at the bureau will be waiting for you at the airport. Don't forget.'

'I won't. Don't worry.'

'And thanks for that lunch.'

'No problem. It was nice and besides it gave me some insights into my stupidity where you're concerned.'

'Why do you say so? ' asked Kate, her voice soft.

'For a lot of things.'

'That leaves me to thinking if you could give me an example,' she asked, prodding.

'I feel nice inside when I'm with you. And that makes me stupid for wasting it away.'

He slipped. He knew he shouldn't have said that.

'I don't understand quite clearly.' Kate knew what it meant, but preferred to pretend. She wanted more explanation, more clarity in that ambiguous statement.

Good thing I was quick to retract. 'Sorry, it's not easy to say it in words, more so on the phone. I'll make you understand as soon as I return home.'

'Alright then.' But she was very eager to hear it, to feel his voice saying those three words. There was silence.

Frank Sinatra's refrain was stressed with full force. 'Wake up to reality, use your mentality . . .' And before long he had heard himself saying goodbye.

'Don't forget to call, okay? Take care of yourself JC . . . Bye.'

'See you.'

He knew she understood. Women easily understood any signs, manifestations or insinuations men gave, he pondered with satisfaction. I think she's so naïve to be thinking that there's something ahead of us, naïve that someday I would say that I love her and would bring her home to my family. Yes, I won't deny that I like her. She's a very desirable lady and any normal sane man would easily succumb to any of her flirtations. But this is not love at all! It would complicate matters if we had an open relationship based on something else. Someday she would learn to detest me. And that's the last thing I would want to happen.

Aside from that, he had seen that she was overly nice to any one she thought would be available. This cooled him off. He told himself never to be caught into the trap. His reservations always stood in the way. He had his reasons. Work was one. He thought it should not be mixed with some serious emotional ties with the people he shared the office with.

The taxi wound its way through busy streets until they finally reached JFK airport. He paid the driver with a tip, jumped out, and got his things out from the hood.

"Thank you," JC said. "Your country is beautiful; don't you know that?"

The driver simply nodded, happy to have received the fare and the tip. "Thanks to you, sir," he said, bowing his head to show his gratitude.