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As soon as the seatbelt lights went off, she called, “Mr. Rick Lambert, please come forward.”
He was at her side instantly and pulled the heavy door open. “Thank you, Madison.”
“Please, don’t mention my name to your children. I want to bond with them as their flight attendant.”
“All right. See you later. Thanks for everything.” He squeezed her hand and dashed out onto the jetway.
Madison waited until all the passengers disembarked, checked the empty cabin for forgotten items, and joined her crew for the drive to the hotel. She’d already had breakfast on the plane, and didn’t waste any time showering before sprawling onto her bed.
Her mind roiling with anxious questions, she wondered if her relationship with Rick would change once his children arrived home.
***
“Daddy, when will we board?” Mark asked for the fifth time as they waited in the elite lounge.
“Soon, but not yet.” Rick checked his watch. “Not foranother hour.”
“Then why did we come to the airport so early?”
“Because the airline insists passengers arrive three hours in advance.”
His oldest son shrugged. “That’s a dumb rule, Daddy.”
“Maybe, but we’re not making the airport rules. We just follow them.”
“We should protest. It’s our right.”
Rick huffed, hoping Mark wouldn’t stick to his assertive ways for every little thing.
“Daddy, I’m hungry.” His eight-year-old was always hungry, growing so fast he would soon outdo his older brother.
“There’s plenty of food around. I’ll get you a piece of bread and cheese.”
“I prefer cookies and chocolate, or baklava andloukoum.”
“Michael, we’re in Paris, not in Dubai. There’s no baklava orloukoumhere, except in special stores.”
“Yes, there are if you order the waiter to go get it for you.”
Exasperated, Rick swallowed his impatience and approached a young woman in uniform. “Would you have cookies and chocolate by any chance?”
“Sure, let me get them for you.”
“Thank you, miss,” Michael said with a big smile.
“What a cute boy.”
“I’m too old to be cute. I’m eight.”
“You’re right. And you’re a smart boy.” She went to the kitchen and returned carrying a tray with an assortment of cookies, and another with all types of chocolate squares.
“All right.” Pleased, Michael sat quietly to munch on his snacks.
“Please, miss, do you know when we can board Flight 63?” Mark asked.
Rick had always encouraged his boys to be assertive,perseverant, and polite. Would Madison survive their questions during the nine-hour flight? He felt like yelling,enough, quiet.
“Passengers board an hour ahead of departure,butchildren under sixteen are eligible for early boarding.” The local attendant proved to be incredibly patient.
