M20-Happenstance, Maybe

Their meeting had been brief but every moment of it was etched into his memory. He could not stop thinking about the girl.

Now, flying back home after accompanying his grandmother on a trip to Ireland to visit her roots, as she called it, he had plenty of time to think about the girl and the recent events that had led up to running into her.

His grandmother, Alice, had been planning and talking about this trip for years to anyone who would listen. He had loved the kindly, aging lady his whole life and none of her children had admitted to being able to take the time off to make the trip with her. Tony knew how important this trip was to Alice and was glad that he could help her with it.

The vacation had been fun and interesting. He had escorted Alice to all the tourist locations on her list. They had enjoyed short walks in the rolling green countryside, local Irish fare at pubs and restaurants, the entire gamut of items on her ToDo list. Then on their final morning in Dublin, it had happened.

While Alice finished her morning nap and then presumably would get her face together as she called it, Tony had decided to visit the tea house around the corner from their hotel one last time. The tea there was so much better than what they had back home in Boston, and he loved the soft, buttery, flakey, moist, fruit laden scones.

As he savored his last opportunity to indulge in the strawberry scone, he noticed the young girl sit at the next table. Her bright red mop of hair bobbed short along her chin made her easy to spot. She had grabbed the last open table and was examining the menu card trying to decide on what to order. After delivering her request to the waitress, she proceeded to pull a pile of paper from her bag and start industriously folding the pieces into shapes. He recognized what she was doing as origami. Her quick fingers produced figure after figure in rapid succession.

When the waitress arrived with her order, she had to push the herd of paper shapes together to make room. He was interested to see that she had also opted for the strawberry scone and a cup of tea. She had noticed him watching her and as she arranged her scone on the saucer, she looked up and smiled a large flash of even white teeth below a pixie nose dusted with a sprinkling of freckles.

Having been caught in what he had thought was surreptitious peeking, he smiled back and said, “I see that we have similar tastes in scones.”

Her laugh, only slightly more than a giggle, was infectious. “You’re perceptive.”

She seemed receptive to conversation at least, in spite of his awkward beginnings.

“I see that you’re an American,” the girl added.

He knew that it was obvious, so he was not surprised by her observation.

“Yes. I’ve come over with my grandma so she could meet relatives and see the sights.”

“You are a good grandson. I have an aunt in America I hope to visit someday.”

“Plenty to see over there too,” he said. He wished that he could keep her talking forever. Her accent, the way she tilted her head and smiled, those hypnotic green eyes, it was sad that he had not met her earlier.

His watch beeped a happy little warning. Reminded that he still had to things that needed being done, he stood up quickly, gulping down a mouthful of tea and grabbing his scone saying, “Sorry but I really have to pack. Leaving to go back in an hour.”

She gave him a little wave and replied, “It was nice meeting you, Yank.”

Waving his scone at her he put some bills on the table to pay for what he had ordered he replied, “I enjoyed almost getting to know you too.”

Thoughts of the young girl's pretty face and friendly banter popped up in his mind several more times as he hurriedly packed and then helped get his and Alice's luggage in the cab. It had been a pleasant end point to what was overall a very nice vacation with his grandmother. They talked about the trip during the ride to the airport and agreed that it had been a resounding success.

The flight home with a stop in Heathrow was uneventful, after which he escorted Alice to her apartment in a cab before continuing to his own small flat.

That summer ended without fanfare and he found himself heading to Boston College in the fall where he was planning to study computers.

He quickly fell into a familiar routine of stopping for coffee or tea on the way to classes, studying, working on projects and taking his tests.

Messenger Peter was not currently involved with an assignment so he was pleased when he noticed the lightly colored bands of floating light connecting the young man exiting the tea shop with someone inside the next store. He enjoyed nudging people onto happy paths that they might miss.

Messengers where ethereal, usually unseen beings, who went about performing their tasks unnoticed by the "ordinary" human population. Only occasionally would they interact with someone or make themselves known.

So it was that on this day, in Boston, Massachusetts, Messenger Peter decided to intervene when the young man was about to stroll past a location where he had a connection that he was not aware of. It was not that something "bad" would happen if the connection was missed, merely that something "good" might result from helping the dots get connected. Messengers have feelings too, after all, and are allowed to enjoy helping move things along sometimes.

To this end, Messenger Peter moved up near the young man, Tony was his name, and whispered quietly into his ear, 'Isn't there something interesting in the window there?'

Tony did not make a conscious decision to turn his head, or even realize that he wanted to. He merely glanced at the window he was walking by and noticed that the shop was one of those that he called a knickknack shop. The window displayed figurines, little dishes, soaps and the like. What caught his eye though, was the sprinkling of little folded paper figures arranged to appear to be scampering about among the other items. Their bright colors complemented the display and their whimsical nature added to the pleasing affect.

For some reason, that he did not actually feel himself make, and could not have articulated why it had been made, he turned as he approached the door to the shop, reached for the handle and opened it. He was curious about something. He stepped inside a short distance and stopped to look around. It was a cute little shop, but not the type he would normally visit.

He picked up a container of nuts that was open on one of the displays as a sample. It appeared to contain peanuts that had been coated with some kind of hard shell coating that he could not place the name of. He tried one and it was pretty good. He liked it enough to examine the can more closely, so the marketing decisions to give him a taste had worked. He read the label, written rather verbosely in an 1800's style flowing script, King Floyd's Maple Bourbon Butter Toffee Candied Peanuts. Toffee, that is what that hard coating was called.

As he smiled to himself, thinking how serendipitous it was that he had glanced into the window this one time of the many times that he had passed this place, his attention was drawn to the back of the shop where someone had just come out of the storeroom and was talking to the sales person. He picked up one of the cans so he could take it to the counter to purchase.

The new arrival, a young girl, was just saying to the older sales lady, "Hey Marie, I finished arranging those boxes that you wanted. Do you need anything else done?"

When his eyes fell on the young girl, who had her back to him, he dropped the can of nuts back on the table, making a small commotion.

That voice. That flaming red hair cropped at her chin. Could it really be the girl from Dublin?

The two at the back of the room both turned in unison to look at the source of the sound of a display being jostled.

The older sales lady said, "Are you quite all right, sir?"

As the younger girl's face came into view, his heart squeezed up into his throat. It was definitely her! That little freckle covered nose, those lips, quick to curl into a smile. He had not realized that his mind had been thinking of her so much that the sight of her would affect him this way.

He answered, "Absolutely fantastic. Sorry about the commotion."

The girl seemed to recognize him as well and said, "The American!"

He said, "Yes. Did you know that there is a tea shop just next door? Do you have time for a cup later? I would like to finish getting to know you, maybe at least your name."

"Maeve," the red head responded with a grin. "It’s Maeve, and why later and not now?"

"I'm on my way to class. I can't afford to be late. I get done at 11:00. I could meet you for lunch."

"You Americans. You are always in such a hurry. I’ll see if I can fit you in my schedule," Maeve said with a wide smile playing on her expressive lips.

Noticing the perplexed look that the older lady was giving both of them, Tony continued, "Aren’t you going to introduce me to your aunt that I've heard so much about?"

"Oh, by the way, Aunt Louise, this is the young lad that I told you I met in Dublin."

Aunt Louise just gave Maeve a knowing look, as did the unseen Messenger Peter, who was very pleased with how his meddling was turning out.