"I like your ring"

"I like your ring," said the woman in the window seat. I was on the isle with a space between us.

I turned and met eyes with her: Smiling, blonde, about my age or a bit older.

"Thanks."

"You're engaged, congratulations!" she continued, smiling and nodding approvingly. I smiled back and said, "Yes, I am .... thanks." This time I locked my eyes on hers, attempting to read her.

I turned back to my laptop to mentally assess the situation.

See, before this lady complimented me on my ring, I had read her as a dyke. Something about her posture, her confidence, her lack of a ring. Then again, I often misread people as gay: gay unless otherwise identified. Friends tease me about this tendency, reading everyone as gay. And yet, a girl can hope, can't she?!

An hour passes. I sleep. She sleeps. Then the drink people come. Coffee, tea, soda? "Coffee, black for me," my neighbor said.

I decide to re-engage. "I love coffee, but I can't drink it after 4 pm," I say, in a gesture to re-establish conversation.

"Oh, I used to be that way but I have a new job and with my new wacky schedule it doesn't seem to matter!" she gushed. "Besides, I'm going to see my dad and I haven't seen him in awhile and I'm sure he'll keep me up all night talking, so I'd better get caffeinated!"

That's all it took. My neighbor lady told me all about her dad, her mom (who is remarried in Georgia), her boyfriend who lives 5 hours away, her ex-husband with whom she had birthed, raised, and home-schooled 5 children; her two grandchildren. Her financial devastation after the divorce. Her Christian faith. Getting married at the tender age of 20. Leaving 25 years later after the husband became too violent to bear.

I listened and asked questions. "How long have you been divorced?" (two years) "How are you doing?" I asked. She paused and looked-really looked-at me then and sighed. "I'm ok... it's not what I expected."

There was my entry. "Yeah, me too; I was with my partner for 8 years, and when we split it was really, really tough. And she got everything. I gave her the house and everything in it."

(silence). I look away to let her process this information.


"Oh."

To fill space I told her about how I pay child support; how I only see my child every other weekend during the school year. I also have a long distance lover; she moved from New York to San Francisco to be closer to me. We now own a house in Seattle. She's meeting me at the airport.

My neighbor recovered. She returned to chatting about her dad, her boyfriend, her ex, her kids, the bad job and housing market.

And then she returned to my ring. "So... you're getting married to your ... girlfriend?"

"Yeah, I am!" I smiled.

"It's not legal ...yet.... for us to get married" (she nods, knowingly), "but we are going to become domestic partners. And we are going to have a wedding. It isn't illegal for us to have a big old fancy wedding, after all!" I smile, looking right into her eyes. I continue. "And, you know, I never thought I'd get married, but now I've become somewhat of a Bridezilla!"


My neighbor laughed big then. We both did. We laughed and laughed and laughed.

Soon after it was time to deplane.

"Nice chatting with you" I said.

"Take care of yourself" she replied.