“What happened?” Sadie asks as I brush past her and through the massive luxury plane toward the rear galley where I’ll be working today’s flight. “You’re always at least fifteen minutes early.”
My sigh of frustration clues her in but I fill in the extra details. “Billy had a bit of a melt-down and I had to run out to the Cresson for a bit.”
“Is he okay?”
“Yeah,” I tell her with a smile that I know doesn’t quite reach my eyes. “He’s good. I got him calmed down.”
Billy rarely has meltdowns and this one caught me off guard since I was getting dressed for work. I love my brother more than anything in the world and I’d never begrudge a visit to him if it was needed. If the choice was between Billy and the flight, I would have chosen Billy hands down. As it were, I was able to spend some time with my brother and still make it to work on time.
Well, almost on time.
Spastic quadriplegia cerebral palsy.
It’s the diagnosis that changed our family forever a little over twenty years ago when Billy was born prematurely. I was six years old at the time and there was nothing in the world—not Santa, not birthday presents, and not my favorite chocolate chip cookies—that I wanted more than I wanted a little brother or sister.
His differences weren’t all that apparent right away, but even when I figured out that I wouldn’t have a sibling that I could run and play with, it never made me love him less.
I step into the rear galley, a stainless-steel kitchen neatly organized with the most expensive equipment available. From here we can serve an entire hockey team plus staff gourmet meals and snacks, as well as pretty much any type of drink they can imagine. My gaze sweeps the area and it seems that Sadie has done all the prep necessary before the team boards.
Turning, I give her a grateful smile. “Thanks for covering and getting everything ready.”
“That’s what friends do,” she quips.
The sound of male voices reaches us and I lean to the left to look past Sadie. The players are boarding and it’s time to get to work.
“Let’s do this,” I murmur to her and give one last little tug to the scarf to loosen it a bit more.
Sadie looks down at her chest to where she has four buttons of her blouse undone, exposing nice cleavage. Satisfied, her eyes pop back up to me and she winks. “Let’s do this.”
We step out of the galley with welcoming smiles on our faces as the team, coaches, trainers, and such start taking their seats. The rear of the plane where I’m working for this flight is filled with clusters of swivel chairs around mahogany tables as well as couches flanking the walls. It’s the most popular place on the plane for outbound trips and you have to be first to board if you want the choice seating, which can accommodate roughly thirty people total. The front of the plane has two rows of plush leather seats that recline fully into beds, which are very popular when flying late at night after a game. In those situations, deference always goes to the veteran players over the rookies.
This trip is going to be a long one. We’re headed to the East Coast and will be gone a full week. The team will be playing games in Florida, Georgia, North Carolina, and Washington, D.C., before we head back. I’m not a fan of these extended road trips as it makes me nervous being that far away from Billy for a period of more than a few days, but it’s not something over which I have any control. Where the team flies to, so do I because it’s my job.
More players file in, and Sadie and I start serving, offering to hang up jackets and taking drink orders. Sadie flirts outrageously, just like I know the other two attendants, Lyla and Valerie, are doing up front. I’m quite sure I’m considered the dud out of the four of us, but flirting and hookups aren’t my thing anymore.
Not since I returned home to Phoenix to take care of Billy.
A deep, boisterous voice hits my ears and I tense as I hear Erik Dalhbeck say, “Grab that table, Bishop.”
Turning, I see Erik following Bishop Scott to one of the tables that sits mid cabin. They’ll be saving seats for Legend Bay and Dax Monahan, as they normally sit together.
Sadie’s in the rear galley filling drink orders, so I take a deep breath and force a pleasant smile on my face as I head to their table. Bishop gives me a welcoming smile and I don’t spare Erik a glance.
“What can I get for you guys?” I ask.
“Hey, Blue,” Bishop says warmly. “I’ll have a Heineken, no glass.”