Chapter 10 - Seat 2A Again
Three months later, Marcus asked if I wanted to come on another flight. Zoe had a short break from college. Dana had invited us all to spend a weekend with June. Marcus was flying the route and had bought me a ticket. “You can drive with Dana instead,” he said. “I won’t mind.” I looked at the booking he had sent. Seat 2A. I called him. “You chose the same seat.” “It’s a good view.” I waited for the old fear to rise. I felt it, but it was smaller than it had been. “I’ll take it,” I said.
On the morning of the flight, Dana and Zoe met me at the airport. When our group was called, I walked down the jet bridge with Zoe. I found 2A and sat by the window. A flight attendant came over and introduced herself as Carla. “Good morning, Ms. Carter. Can I help with your bag?” “I’ve got it, thank you.” She smiled and moved on. My hands were steady.
Marcus stepped out of the cockpit while passengers were still boarding. He saw me and came over. “Everything all right, Mom?” “Yes.” He glanced at the view through my window. “Better weather this time.” “Then you have no excuse to hide the city in the clouds.” He squeezed my hand and went back to work.
We reached June’s city on time. At her house, we cooked together. June gave Marcus a box of Samuel’s old photographs. In one, Samuel stood beside an eight-year-old Marcus holding a paper airplane. Marcus laughed when he saw how crooked its wings were. “That one flew,” I said. “For about two feet,” June replied. “It flew,” Marcus insisted.
The next morning, Zoe and I walked to a small park. She told me her first college presentation had gone badly. “I thought everyone would decide I didn’t belong in that class,” she said. “What did your professor say?” “She asked me to explain the model again afterward. She liked it.” “Did you explain it?” “Yes. I did better the second time.” “Then that’s what they got to see.”
May you like
After the weekend, I returned to my own house. The airline sent a final note several weeks later. Its revised training on checking seat assignments and responding to passenger concerns had begun. At the end of the school year, a girl from the reading program brought me a paper airplane. She was nervous about changing schools. “What if I don’t know anyone?” she asked. “Then you can start with one person,” I said. “You can ask for help while you find your way.”
When I got home, Marcus was waiting on my porch with takeout. “I thought we could have dinner,” he said. We ate at my kitchen table. He told me about Zoe’s latest project, and I showed him the paper airplane. He tried to improve its wings, but his version flew no farther than the girl’s. “Samuel would laugh at us,” I said. “He’d make us fold another.” As he got up to clear the dishes, I reached for his hand. “I’m proud of you,” I said. “I was proud of you before I boarded that first flight. I’m glad I got to tell you afterward.” He held my hand for a long moment. “I’m glad you stayed in your seat, Mom.” “So am I.” Then he picked up the plates, and I followed him to the kitchen, where we washed them together before making two more paper airplanes.
