I realized then how many awkward encounters we had endured, and how he had until that moment been just some man, an abstraction, and I was embarrassed I hadn’t thought to introduce myself sooner. But during this realization I noticed he was looking at me expectantly, and so I nodded and said, “Natalie—nice to meet you.”
I noticed his eyes wander south and was uncertain how to take it. Then he said, “I like your necklace. Where’d you get it?”
I laughed nervously. “Oh, I made it. I’m an artist.”
He raised an eyebrow. “An artist, eh? Well, that would explain your hands.”
What about my hands?I looked down suddenly, curious to know what it was about my hands that painted me as an artist, when Lucas responded, “Oh, I didn’t—I meant it as a good thing, I promise. It’s just that they’re so… delicate. Like…” he thought, then finished, “newly-sprung daffodils.”
Despite my resistance, I chuckled. “Wow, have you used that line before?”
Lucas laughed, a good-natured laugh, and shook his head slightly. “Afraid not. Though now I’m wishing I had.”
I was feeling a connection—not necessarily a romantic or sexual one, but a connection, nonetheless—when suddenly the flight attendant returned to the aisle and was clearing her throat to announce herself.
“Can I get you two anything?” she asked.
“Nothing for me,” Lucas said. Then, turning to me asked, “How about you, Natalie?”
Hmm, he says my name like he’s doing it a favor…
“Natalie?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah, do you have any free snacks?”
“Yes, ma’am, we have potato chips or pretzels.”
“Great, I’ll take the potato chips then, please.”
She smiled and handed me a bag. Then, as she turned to wheel the cart away, she flashed us a smile and added, “Sorry to interrupt you two.”
I blushed, despite myself.Does she think we are together?I almost said something to correct her, but realizing it would create more discomfort than it was worth I opted for silence and allowed her to pass, fumbling with the bag of potato chips all the while.
“Are you alright?” Lucas asked, looking down at the bag.
I looked at him, confused, before realizing what he was talking about. I was squeezing the bag as though it had killed my entire family and fled the country, and now I had apprehended it for the first time and was exacting my revenge. My nails were on the verge of puncturing the surface.
“Here, let me—”
“I’m fine!” I snapped, and in that moment my grip tightened, and the bag exploded, sending bits of potato chip aloft, not a few of which landed on Lucas’s lap.
“Jesus fucking Christ!”Why can’t I catch a break…
I opened my mouth again to apologize, but Lucas brought a finger to his lips, shushing me. “Please, that’s enough apologizing for one day.” I smiled, and he smiled back.
We were about to continue our conversation when the flight attendant returned, as if on command. “I heard a little commotion over here—” She witnessed the massacre of the potato chips and let out a little yelp. “Heavens! What happened? I can call someone over to help clean this up…”
But I was already bending over, picking the pieces up. I left the pieces that lay on Lucas’s crotch—flirting was flirting, but I knew where to draw the line.
“It’s fine,” I said. “Sorry about the mess.”
“No worries, we’re out of potato chips, but is there anything else I can get you?”
“I’ll take a ginger ale.”
“Sure thing,” the flight attendant said, and quickly poured me a cup of ginger ale. She extended her arm to me, but Lucas and I reached for it at the same time—me to grab it, him to hand it to me. In a moment we were holding the cup together, our hands touching, mine around his. He looked back at me and our eyes locked for the second time. I felt warm again, as if I had stood up too quickly on a summer’s day, when I noticed the flight attendant’s expression behind us—she was gushing—and was totally taken out of it.
“Thanks, Lucas,” I said, taking the cup. Then I spoke tersely to the flight attendant. “That’s all, thank you.”