An Old Friend: Part 3

It was the big day - Friday. Lisa did everything in a hurry this morning. She was so excited and couldn't wait to see her old friend again. She figured it would take her at least six hours to get to Stirling from where she lived, so she planned to leave at around 1:30 p.m. That would give me enough time, she thought. She was a bit nervous, so after an early lunch she took a nice, relaxing hot bath to calm her nerves. Before she climbed into the tub, she put on some music. The local soul music station was one of her favorites, and they played a lot of hits from America. As she laid back, Billy Paul's "Me and Mrs. Jones" wailed out of the radio.

She sighed, closed her eyes, and thought about meeting Michael again. She had missed him so much. It was going to be wonderful to see him after all this time.....time...oops, what time was it? She glanced at the clock on the wall which told her it was 12:30. 'I'd better hurry a bit,' she thought to herself. She drained the water, reached for her towel, and dried herself off.

She flung her closet open. What should she wear? Something dressy? Casual? She noted that most of her dresses were summer ones, and it was a bit too chilly to take them out yet. 

After much consideration, she figured she'd go casual. After all, who wants to dress up when you're someplace cold and damp? She chose a beige knitted sweater with a round neckline and a pair of blue jeans. She brushed her long brown hair back into a ponytail, then decided against it and let it hang loose again.

She put on some fairly light, sensible makeup, some light rosy perfume, and headed downstairs to feed the dog. She was about to leave when she thought of something. She grabbed the photo of herself, her fellow graduates and Michael standing together, and shoved it in her purse. She locked the door, headed to the car, and began the long drive up to Stirling, with "Me and Mrs. Jones" running through her head the entire time.

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It was 6:30, and the Pythons had finally quit filming for the day. Michael couldn't have been more relieved. He got into his car and raced back to the hotel. He had just under an hour before Lisa would be here.

As he ran up to his room, Terry Jones called out, "You sure you don't want to head to the pub with us, Mike?"

"No that's alright, Terry. I'm meeting an old friend tonight," Michael said briskly as he ran up the stairs.  

"But-" Terry shouted.

Michael poked his head out around the corner when he got to the top of the stairs. "Don't wait up," he grinned, raising his eyebrows.

Terry furrowed his brow in confusion, then shrugged and walked away.

'Now to get out of this silly costume', Michael thought to himself after he entered the room and put his things down. He scrambled out of the medieval knight costume he had to wear throughout most of the picture and stripped down to his boxers.

He went over to the wardrobe, and began the uneasy task of deciding what to wear. Before he had left the hotel this morning, Michael had asked the manager if he could recommend any nice restaurants in the area. He had told Michael about a nice French restaurant, only a few minutes from the hotel. There was also a discotheque nearby, and, if that was too flashy a place, an old dance hall a block or so away. Most of the places were quite casual, including the restaurants. Most people even wore jeans around here, the manager had told him. It was just as well, as he really didn't feel like dressing up. He finally decided on a white button-down oxford shirt worn under a dark green sweater, complete with a pair of blue jeans.

He laid the clothes down on the bed, then went over to the mirror. 'Gosh, I look horrid,' he thought to himself. After spending hours trudging through the wet Scottish countryside, he had gotten a bit muddy. He wondered how the others could skip right out to the pub without washing up first.

He looked at the clock. 6:45. He decided he had enough time to take a quick shower. He ran the water a bit, as hot water was fairly scarce at this hotel. Then he jumped into the shower and dashed out a few minutes later. Boy, that water was cold. He grabbed a towel and proceeded to dry off. He then took a comb and combed his wet hair straight back, plugged in the hair dryer, and blew his hair dry. Once it was dry, he combed it into place and started getting dressed.

He was really excited now. It was nearly 7:15, and she would be there soon. He couldn't wait to see her after all these years. She was such a cute girl, lovely brown hair, cute button nose, and he wondered if she was still as cute as she had been all those years ago. 'What a stupid thing to think', he thought to himself, 'why wouldn't she be?' 

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With minimal difficulty, Lisa reached the hotel in Stirling at 10 after 7. She parked across the street, and headed toward the building. It was a cold night, and she was glad she was wearing a sweater and her warm coat. She could see her breath as she breathed in and out the crisp evening air.

As she entered the hotel, she noticed it was fairly warm inside. Not too warm, but just warm enough. She went up to the reception desk and found a man she assumed to be the manager. "Excuse me, is a Mister Michael Palin staying here?"

The old man chuckled. "Ah, yes my dear. Are you Miss Lisa Dobson?" She nodded, a bit surprised that he knew her name. "He's been expecting you. Sit down and make yourself at home. He should be down shortly."

She walked over to the fireplace and sat herself down on the soft couch. She checked her watch. 7:25. She was getting very nervous. She took out the picture from her college graduation, and began fawning over it. Michael was so cute and handsome, with greenish-grayish eyes, dimples, and lovely brown hair swept off to the side, with sideburns. What a nice smile he had. Looking at this picture - and especially at how different she looked - reminded her that it had been taken such a long time ago, 6 years to be exact. She wondered what he looked like now. Obviously, she was about to find out. 

Suddenly she heard footsteps on the stairs - slow, steady ones. She directed her gaze toward the staircase and saw a handsome young man coming down the stairs. It was a bit hard to make him out from such a distance and she realized she had been staring at him so she turned her eyes downward in embarrassment. The footsteps made their way over toward the couch where she was sitting, and they stopped.

"Lisa?" a kind, familiar voice started softly. 

She looked up, and he was standing in front of her. She got up to have a better look at him. Yes, it was definitely Michael. He looked very different, perhaps even better than before. He was wearing blue jeans much like she, a white oxford shirt under a dark green sweater, and a pair of brown leather shoes. His brown, slightly wavy hair was much longer now, without sideburns, and spilled down a bit over the collar of his shirt. He had thick bangs which crept a bit more than halfway down his forehead, framing his eyebrows. His beautiful eyes still had that same twinkle in them that she first noticed all those years ago. And those dimples....oh how she adored them. She realized she was staring again, and directed her eyes downward once more.

"Michael," she looked up at him again, "is that you?"

"Yes, I'm afraid it is, my dear," he chuckled nervously. He obviously noticed her staring at him and seemed concerned. "Something wrong?" he asked. 

"Oh, no...it's just that..." she started. Unable to find the words to continue, she grabbed him and gave him a big hug. Oh, how good it felt to be back in his arms. She felt warm and wonderful all over again. She stepped back to look at him again. She couldn't believe how different yet incredibly handsome he looked.

"It's so good to see you after all these years," she exclaimed. "You look great!"

"Oh, no, please," he grinned. "I look hideous. I think filming out on the dank Scottish moors for over a week has really taken its toll on me."

"No, you look wonderful," she persisted. 

"Well, if you say so," he answered, a smile peeking out of the corners of his mouth. "And I must say that you look smashing, my dear."

He had meant every bit of that. When he first knew her, she was a cute young girl with long bangs and one of those Mary Tyler Moore flip-hairdos. She was a cute little thing, but now with her bangs grown out and her long, thick wavy brown hair tumbling way past her shoulders, she looked ravishing. The cute little girl had grown up into a beautiful young woman.

"So!" he exclaimed cheerfully. "Any place in particular that you'd like to try for dinner?" He immediately felt like kicking himself. She wasn't familiar with this area at all; the last thing he should be asking is where she'd like to go. He blushed furiously. "Er...I mean... there's a nice little French restaurant not far from here."

His blush caused her to giggle. "Sounds wonderful. Are we dressed up enough?"

"Oh, I think so," he replied. "If I'm not mistaken, blue jeans are in the dress code of just about every place in this area." 

"Well, in that case," she said, smiling, "lead on." 

The two exited the hotel and made their way to Michael's car. He held the door open for her, then hurried around the other side.

He got in, rubbing his hands together. "Boy, it's quite cold out here tonight, isn't it?" he remarked. She nodded, although being with him, it felt as warm as summer. He fetched his coat out of the back of the car and slipped into it. He turned the engine on, put the car into gear, and they headed off.