Her Eyes

They sat in first class, her head on his shoulder with her Nook in front of her, and his arm around her shoulders watching the movie playing on the small screen in front of him. Mason O’Rear glanced up at her fiancés face and then down at her ring every couple of minutes and smiled.

Half way through their eight hour flight, Mason felt someone watching her. She glanced up and saw an old woman, in her 80s, looking at her and Jordan and smiling.

“He looks at you like you hung the moon.” She said with a faint French accent and a sad tinge in her voice. “My husband looked at me like that.”

Mason smiled softly at the woman and asked how long her and her husband were married for.

“58 years. He died last year. How long have you two been married?”

“We got engaged last night.” Mason said with a grin. She looked up at Jordan and pulled his right headphone out. “He caught me off guard, but I said yes.”

Jordan looked down. Mason was grinning at the old woman in a way that could only mean she was happy. And he felt accomplished. His list, however short it was, was a success. He made Mason live. He made Mason love. And he loved her the whole time.

Notes