Page 4 of The Hideaway

They'd been about to fly to London as a family of four when Ruby had been struck by an irrational fear of flying--one she'd never experienced before, but has plagued her ever since.

"Jack, I can't go," she'd said, shaking her head emphatically at him as they sat at the dining room table in their home. They'd already begun boxing up their personal items and sorting them for storage or for transport to the White House, but that morning Ruby had forgotten that she still needed to decide whether her mother's gravy dish and tablecloths were bound for a dark storage facility or for the private rooms of their new residence.

Jack looked up at Ruby over the edge of his newspaper, which he still preferred to read on paper as compared to electronically.

"We're going to London, Rubes," he'd said calmly, watching her over the paper from behind his reading glasses. After a long look, he snapped the paper with both hands and let his eyes drift back to the article he'd been reading.

"No," Ruby said. She tapped her fingertips against the smooth, polished wood of the table. "I had a dream, Jack, and I feel like I'm not supposed to get on that plane."

Heaving a deep sigh of resignation, Jack had folded his newspaper and set it on the table. "Ruby," he said, leveling his gaze at her. He folded his hands together on the table. "I was just voted into the highest office in America. The pressures put on me from all angles are, and will continue to be, legendary. I am expected in London to meet the Prime Minister on Tuesday, and my wife and daughters will be with me. We don't have time for bad dreams, premonitions, irrational fears, or silly, unfounded ultimatums. There is no other way to slice this, honey:you will be with me on that flight." At that point he picked up his newspaper from the table and stood. "I'm going to finish reading this in my study. Can you bring me another cup of coffee, Rubes?"

Ruby sat there after he left, staring at the tapered candlesticks in the polished silver holders that ran the length of the table. She loved using the things they'd received as wedding gifts, and she knew that most of it wouldn't be grand enough for the White House, nor would it impress anyone who might visit them. She'd still wanted to bring and use their everyday linens and dishes, but Jack had scoffed at that notion the same way he'd just scoffed at her refusal to fly to London, and so she'd shelved the idea of serving her daughters breakfast on the same Pottery Barn dishes that she used at home.

But on that first official flight, Ruby had panicked. For her daughters' sake she'd smiled and tried to look calm on the outside, but the minute she was able to get out of her seat and roam the cabin, she'd stumbled back to the bathroom and locked herself inside, trying not to hyperventilate.

"Ma'am," Banks had said when she finally slid the bolt of the door and opened it again. She was sure she looked as terrified a teenager who'd just gotten a positive pregnancy test while locked in that bathroom, but Banks had kept his gaze steady as he stood outside the door with his arms at his sides. "Are you alright?"

Ruby had plastered a game smile on her face and swallowed the increasingly thick saliva in her throat. "I'm fine. Thank you."

Banks gave her a hard stare. "You don't like to fly."

"No." Ruby gave one shake of her head and reached out for the door frame to hold herself steady as her knees buckled slightly.

In an instant, Banks had an arm around her waist as he steered her to a block of empty seats at the back of the plane. He sat her down carefully and slid into the seat next to hers so that they were both facing forward.

"My mom never liked flying, either," he said.

Ruby gave a soft laugh. "I remind you of your mother?" She could feel Banks turn his head to look at her briefly before he looked ahead again.

"Definitely not. You and I are about the same age. My apologies if you thought I meant that, ma'am."

"No, I'm teasing. Seriously." Ruby put a hand on his forearm briefly before feeling a roiling wave of nausea. "Go on."

Banks waited a beat. "She never liked to fly, but she and my dad loved to travel, so she forced herself to do it. I remember her telling me once that her best trick to get over her nerves in the air was to recite her favorite poems to herself whenever she felt scared, because she knew that it wasn't her destiny to die while performing a Yeats poem."

This got Ruby's attention; she forgot for a moment about the anxiety in her chest. "Do you think the same might go for songs?"

Banks gave a single nod as he considered this. "I think so. What did you have in mind?"

"Mmmmm," Ruby said, thinking about it. She frowned. "How about Stevie Wonder?"

"Okay. I think that could work. You can basically choose anything that soothes you and I believe that the same thing holds true: it's not your destiny to be on a crashing plane while singing Stevie Wonder songs."

Ruby's smile faded immediately and she reached out and touched his arm again. "Don't say those words," she said seriously. "Bad luck."

Banks held up a hand. "My apologies."

They sat there for a long moment and then Ruby started to hum and sing. "For once in my life..." she started, her head bobbing slightly as she launched into the song tentatively.

After a few lines, Banks joined in with a surprisingly steady voice. They looked at one another with huge grins spreading across their faces as their voices braided together over the chorus. When they finished, Ruby broke into laughter and leaned her head--just briefly--against Banks's shoulder. He stiffened, but didn't move.

"Thank you," Ruby said softly, lifting her head and looking at Banks again, though he was staring straight ahead with reddened cheeks and a small smile on his face. "I feel better already."

Banks dipped his chin in acknowledgement. "Any time," he said. "If I'm on a flight with you, just find me and we'll pick a song, got it?"

Ruby felt the singular thrill course through her--the feeling that comes with realizing you've found a kindred spirit. "Got it," she'd said, smiling at him again.

"Hey," Banks says now, leaning across the empty chair between them as he nudges Ruby's upper arm lightly. "Is that drink helping?"

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