relearn the little tricks and techniques that made it safe for me to move through the human world. My agitation boiled over, and I saw the flash of white reflected in his eyes before he let go of me, withdrawing into his own seat.
“I’m so sorry,” he said. His tone had completely changed, becoming contrite, even guilty. “That was entirely inappropriate of me. I can’t believe . . . I’m so sorry. I’ll make this right.”
He hit his flight attendant call button. I put my headphone back in and returned my attention to the window, trying to radiate “I’m not involved with this” while I watched the clouds and he spoke in a low, urgent voice to the flight attendant who answered his call. I could feel his self-recrimination prickling against my skin like steel wool, but if I didn’t reach for details, I wouldn’t find them, and that suited me just fine. Not everything can be my problem. There isn’t room in my head.
There was a flurry of motion as the man got up and moved away. A few moments later, the flight attendant was waving her hand for my attention. I straightened, removing both headphones, and turned to face her.
There was a woman behind her in the aisle, no more than twenty-five years old, with a baby grasped against her chest and a massive diaper bag in her free hand. The woman was looking around, radiating awe. The baby was sleeping. All I got from it was a pure, unalloyed contentment. It was with its mother, it was fed and safe and content, and it wanted for nothing else in the world.
Lucky baby. “Yes?” I asked.
“The gentleman who was seated next to you has requested a transfer to coach class, and that we credit the value of his ticket to another passenger who looks as if they’d enjoy the opportunity to experience our first-class cabin.” Her eyes gleamed. I picked up a combination of genuine joy and malicious anticipation, aimed not at me in specific, but at the rest of the cabin.
Apparently, my former traveling companion wasn’t the only one who’d felt entitled to be a little too pushy about his own desires. I couldn’t get details without digging deeper, but I felt fairly confident that the woman behind the flight attendant had been chosen at least partially to annoy the rest of first class as much as possible.
Well, that was fine. I smiled broadly, and said, “That sounds great. One of my cousins is expecting a baby soon, so I should probably be spending more time around infants anyway. Getting in practice, right?”
The flight attendant’s smile was mostly relief, and only a sliver of disappointment, as she waved the woman to her seat and tucked the diaper bag into the overhead compartment. In only a few seconds, we were alone—or as alone as you can ever get on a plane—the woman radiating wonder, the baby still comfortably asleep.
I smiled at her, dazzlingly bright, an expression I learned from sliding myself into my cousin Verity’s head during her dance competitions. Verity learned to smile like she was being graded on it, because she was, and thanks to her, I share the skill. Not bad for someone who can’t always recognize a smile when she sees one.
“I’m Sarah,” I said. “First time in first class?”
“Yes,” said the woman. “I . . . yes. I’m Christina. This is Susie.” She gave the baby a little bounce, not enough to wake it up.
She was thinking “my little girl” so loudly that I could actually hear the words, so I turned my smile on the baby and said, “She’s beautiful. Let me know if you need me to hold her so you can use the bathroom.”
Her astonishment was, briefly, louder than the plane’s engines. I gave her another smile and returned my attention to the window. We were on our way to Portland, and I didn’t have a jerk sitting next to me anymore.
Things were looking up.
* * *
The plane touched down with a thump hard enough to set us all rocking for a moment, stirring the infant next to me back into fussy wakefulness. I smiled encouragingly at her mother, offering a little wiggle of my fingers as distraction. The mother radiated relief. Apparently, flying with an infant was a horror—I could have guessed that—and people were frequently resistant to the idea of flying next to one—I had observed that. Being moved up from coach to first class and seated next