Late summer I drove a customer from their new home in Beaufort to the New Bern airport; a 55 minute and sought after fare.
David was clearly British, intelligent and immediately likable; a combination of traits that evaporates time, leaves you more aware and a bit more refined, as if by osmosis.
Less than halfway to the airport and David was keen to exchange phone numbers and asked if he could make arrangements for a ride home upon his return.
I had become his driver.
David needed to travel back and forth to Dallas several times in the Fall, scheduling his trips around his wife’s medical appointments, health, and well-being. She was battling MS.
I drove David a couple more times before a third trip was postponed due to Kittie’s condition. I followed up with him mid-November by text asking how his wife was feeling and whether he had identified a new time for his trip?
My phone rang almost immediately – a call from David …
“Good day, Warren” he began … “You know, there are two types of people you receive texts from: The first type you brace yourself for what you are about to read … and the second type makes you smile.”
“You, Warren … are in the second group!”
“How kind of you to check in on me,” he said. “My lovely wife is improved; thank you. But not to the point I feel comfortable traveling away.” He continued, “I think there will be two trips I would like your help with – the one for me I think I’ll make in early December, and the second is to round up my kids in New Bern for Christmas and bring them from and back to the airport around the Holiday, please.”
We finished our easy conversation, as usual, and David said he would contact me when he knew more.
Today, it happened … A ride that was meant to be …
I was in the Airport Staging Area hoping for a good ride off the 3:30pm flight from Charlotte and then the app notified me of a ‘55 minute ride for Matthew.’ My eldest son’s name is Matthew so there was a brief burst of hope the ride could somehow be for him coming to visit, but staying at the beach somewhere, but when I pulled to the curb I could see there were 3 in the party; two ladies and a man, all in their late 20’s.
I met them with my usual greeting: “Hello folks, my name is Warren. Welcome home, or welcome to New Bern!”
Their response was somewhat muted. “It’s ‘welcome to New Bern’ but we’re here under sad circumstances … Our dad died suddenly … So we’re here to help our mom with arrangements because she has medical difficulties herself.”
I flipped back to the ride to check the destination address and was stunned to see the street address was David’s. I told the kids I had a private client that lived on the same street. Then I searched my contacts for the town of Beaufort … and only a few names came up. The kids saw the name from my contacts faster than I did … “That’s our Dad!”
David xyz …. Beaufort.
My heart sank in my chest. “Oh, no” I said. “I’m truly sorry you guys – I REALLY liked your Dad. He was a personal client and we had discussed me helping his kids when they arrived for Christmas. I guess this is that ride.”
The kids responded in unison … “A ride that was meant to be.”
Driving the Daisy's 