Flight Risk

2 - Hong Kong

By the time we landed in Hong Kong, I'd shared everything I knew about polar bears, belugas and Churchill with my seatmate, Caleb, and he'd endured far too many questions about living in Australia. Together, or simultaneously with a five-second delay, we'd watched a Korean movie about two bears turning into humans and travel food shows that made me wish the flight had tastier snacks.

I couldn't have asked for a better seat partner and was dreading us parting ways. Well, partially, as we had the same flights to Vancouver and Winnipeg but weren't sitting together on the longest leg. Each departing row ahead of us made our separation more imminent. We kept glancing at each other, but neither of us spoke. Would it be weird to ask for his number or social media handle? It wasn't like we'd hang out often with the continental divide, but maybe he'd visit my current home, Labuan Bajo, someday, or I'd end up in Australia. 

He turned to me. "So there's a restaurant I need to try at the airport if you're interested in tasting delicious food and hearing my never-ending stories about Aussie wildlife."

I could hardly fight my smile. We had five hours to kill between flights, and I wanted to spend more time together. "You might have me at wildlife stories."

He grinned, brightening those green eyes again. "I didn't even have to sell you on the Michelin-star rating of its sister location in the city."

I grimaced. "That sounds expensive." While I earned enough within Indonesia to cover room, board, food, and the occasional excursion, my rupiah wouldn't be taking me far here or at home.

"It's a varied menu and in a food court, so not too intimidating, I hope. Plus, they have this succulent two-day marinated duck which would be a crime not to share with someone. My treat." A hopeful gleam shone in his gaze.

Was he as keen to stay connected as I was? Screw it, I had the rest of my life to save money.

"Let's do it."

That face-consuming grin of his confirmed my suspicions. Caleb insisted on pulling down my carry-on bag for me. "One conk on the noggin is enough for a person who needs to be on two more flights."

"And I won't have you to protect me on the way to Vancouver."

He smiled gently at me. "I can ensure you get settled in alright."

"Aren't you a gentleman?"

"Only for the women who instantly fall for me," he teased.

I shook my head. "I'm not living that one down, am I?"

"No, it's far too satisfying to ignore."

I was going to make a clever quip about being careful not to fall for me, but my mind jumped to Trevor and his reaction when I left Canada. It'd haunted me for months. With a clenched stomach, I swallowed my words, and the line moved enough for us to disembark.

Once we found the restaurant, we sipped on Hong Kong milk teas and shared the duck at the quiet food court. Eight p.m. wasn't prime time for diners, so we enjoyed the solitude of the wide open space, flanked by restaurants and closing boutiques. Most people were alone with laptops or phones, also letting time pass them by. 

Despite having paid for the dish and denying my efforts to chip in, Caleb was the sort of person who took turns when sharing, refusing my protests, and making sure we got equal amounts. It reminded me of Trevor and his boundless love and concern in a conflicting way. That memory combined with what I'd stomached of my meal on the flight left me telling Caleb to finish his coveted dish solo. I let the sweetness of the milk tea ease my nerves.

"You alright, Audrey?" he asked.

I nodded, not wanting to open that box. "What about you?"

He shrugged. "It's going to be a long journey, but the destination will be worth it."