“I’ll take your bag.” She’s smiling as she reaches for my suitcase. “If you could hurry, the pilot has to stick to the flight schedule.”
It’s the nudge I need to shake me out of my stupor. What the hell is wrong with me today? Oh yeah, I’m terrified, and not just of losing my job, but of getting into the flying tin can.
“I…sorry, thank you.” I roll the suitcase toward her, then make my way up the stairs. As I step through the door of the plane, I stop again. What the hell? This doesn’t look like any plane I’ve ever seen. It’s a flying living room—couches and all.
“You can sit anywhere you’d like. Just buckle up so we can depart. I’ll get you a drink after we reach cruising altitude.”
When I don’t respond again, she gently touches my shoulder. “First time flying?”
“Yes,” I whisper, afraid to admit it as if it is a horrible secret or something.
“No worries. It will be fine. And Paul, the pilot, is wonderful. Just relax, everything will be fine. I promise.”
I nod and walk further down the aisle. “I can sit anywhere?” I ask. It doesn’t seem right. Isn’t there some place with regular chairs and heavy-duty seatbelts to strap me in?
“Wherever you’ll be comfortable. By the way, my name is Laura. Just call if you need anything. As soon as we level off, you’ll be able to get up and walk around. The captain will announce it,” she explains with another smile.
She stows my bag in a cabinet. I sit at one of the four-person tables and pull the seatbelt tight across my lap, like this is going to save me if the plane goes down. Are they crazy?
“We’ll be taking off shortly. You’ll be fine,” she says one more time, then knocks on the cockpit door and speaks to the pilot.
Is there a co-pilot, too? Or just one? What if he has a heart attack and dies? Who will fly the plane? Does Laura know how? I mean, sure, there’s autopilot, but that won’t really fly this pretty tin can, will it?
My vision narrows as the plane starts to move. Shit. I’m going to die. I just know it. I’ll never see Cheri again. Tears cloud my vision, and I gulp past the clog in my throat. I’m clenching the armrest so tightly, my knuckles turn white.
Holy hell. The plane speeds up, and the images outside the window are blurry. Then we tilt up as we take off. “Fuck,” I whisper, and squeeze my eyes closed.
I don’t know how much time passes before Laura says next to me, “Ms. Tanner? Are you okay?”
“Umm, yeah. Fine.” I open my eyes and squint at her. When I glance at the window across from me, all I see are clouds. Fuck. We’re high, so damn high.
“Would you like a drink? Or a snack?” she asks gently.
“I don’t think so. Or maybe just a water, please. How much is it?” I pull my purse to my front. I never took it off before I buckled in, and the strap is still across my chest.
“There’s no charge. You can have anything you want. I have all kinds of snacks. I can make you coffee, tea, or bring you anything from the bar.”
“Oh.” That’s all I say. How stupid am I? It’s a private plane, of course there’s no charge. “Just water is fine, thank you.”
I lean back in the seat, trying to ease the tension pulsing in my shoulders, but I can’t loosen my grip on the armrest.
Laura returns a few moments later with a water bottle, a little cocktail napkin, and a glass with ice. After she opens the bottle, she pours the water for me. “Would you like a slice of lemon or lime?”
“This is fine, I appreciate it.”
“If there’s anything you need, just let me know. I’ll check back with you soon.”
“Wait, can you tell me how long till we get there?”
“It’s usually about a four-hour flight. If we have a tailwind, sometimes it’s a bit quicker.”
“Thank you.” I take a deep breath in and let it out. Then open my purse and take out the Valium that Cheri pushed into my hand before I left. She had it left over from her wisdom tooth surgery last summer. She said to take it if I got too stressed, that it would calm me down. I guess we’ll see how well it works because I can’t stay like this for the next four hours. I’ll have a heart attack before we land.
After popping the pill into my mouth, I swallow it with the water and then pull out my phone. Am I allowed to use it? Will it make the plane crash? Didn’t I read something about that a few years ago?
“Excuse me, Laura?”
“Yes, Ms. Tanner.”
