She disappeared wordlessly, and then it was the two of us.
2
Landing
Lucas
“Is it just me, or was that flight attendant being nosy?” Natalie asked me.
“Oh, definitely,” I replied, although I didn’t particularly think this was the case. Her eyes were so beautiful, and I would have done anything to keep them on me.
She took a sip of her wine, and as she went for a second the plane began shaking. We looked at each other confused—there had been no turbulence forecasted. But then the pilot was on the intercom, all apologies, informing us there was an unforeseen storm heading south, and thanking us for our ongoing cooperation.Right—as if we had any choice.
Natalie looked over at me, terrified. I extended my arm in a display of affection; she didn’t respond so much as allow the gesture, and soon my arm was around her and her head was on my shoulder, a tenderness born more of necessity than intimacy, but a tenderness, nonetheless.
“I’ve never flown before,” she admitted, her voice hinting at shame.
“Don’t worry, these things happen. We’re going to be fine, alright?” I admit I wasn’t so sure myself just then, after all, I’d been on many planes, and some had experienced turbulence, though never of this caliber, but I knew this an unnecessary observation, and so I aired on the side of optimism and stroked her shoulder as she sat there silently.
The storm abated some, affording us both some relief, before again it picked up a half-hour later. By this point the flight attendants were passing out premium snacks and drinks free of charge, as if this were adequate compensation. The intercom was silent, but at last it picked up, after a particularly rough patch. “This is your captain speaking. We will be beginning our descent into Los Angeles International Airport shortly; however, due to the severity of the storm, it’s looking like all connecting flights will be canceled for the foreseeable future.”
There was an uproar across the plane, one woman even started throwing her trash into the aisle, she was so furious. “How the fuck am I gonna get to Portland!” she shrieked, and to my left I heard a chuckle: Natalie. How she’d been able to channel all her anxiety into humor was something I didn’t understand, but I admired it. I admired her.
“I hope you aren’t affected by this,” I said, turning to her.
She shook her head knowingly. “I’m supposed to catch a red-eye to Seattle an hour after landing.”
“Damn.”
“Yeah. But hey, at least we’re alive to tell the tale.”
Her optimism struck me as unfeigned, and something in it touched me. It was one of those things people often said, something so simple,at leastthis,at leastthat, always with a silver lining. But when she said it, I believed it. We were alright; we were ok.
And then I realized how I could fix this. “I don’t mean to be presumptuous,” I began, then realizing only those who did in fact mean to be presumptuous began a thought with that sentiment, I relaxed my tone and continued. “I have a flat in LA—not too far from the airport, actually.”
She looked up. “Is that where you’re heading?”
“No, I’m actually heading down to Mexico for a wedding—a good friend of mine.”
Her eyes brightened. “A wedding? I’m headed to one too! In Seattle, though. Wait, I already said that…” She blushed, and my heart melted for her a little, not that she’d embarrassed herself, but that she thought she had. There was something tender in it.
I was staring at her wordlessly when she continued. “So, why the flat in LA then? Were you just visiting Minnesota?”
“No, I live in Minnesota. I just…” I weighed my words carefully, afraid to expose myself as something insufferable. But there was no other way for me to put it; the LA flat was pure indulgence, tied neither to functionality nor necessity. And so I finished, “I bought it as a sort of vacation spot.”
Natalie raised an eyebrow, amused. “Ohhh… so you’re handsomeandrich.”Handsome?It was a word often attributed to me, I had to admit, but something about the way it rolled off her tongue imbued it with a heightened significance, and I found myself lightheaded. But then she cleared her throat, and I realized she was awaiting some sort of response.
“I’m sorry?”
“I said, if you’re so well-off, why are you flying economy?”
She’d pegged me into a corner; I had no choice but to tell her. “My housekeeper books my travel, she made a mistake.”
At this Natalie laughed outright. I had no choice but to join in her laughter, for it was a ridiculous thing, really, to think oneself so above something as simple as booking a flight that it required the attention of an employee. But then the laughter abated, and I realized she had not given me a response.
“So…” I prodded.
“Oh—I appreciate the offer, really I do, but I… I wouldn’t want to give you the wrong idea.” Noting some shift in my eyes, she hastily added, “I’m notseeinganyone or anything, and I’ve told you I think you’re handsome—”