The Woman in 3B - Eliza Lentzski Page 0,87

we could go on another trip up north. Maybe her nieces and nephews wanted a pool party and we could spend time with her family.

I began to visualize what I wanted to say and do the first time I saw her. The apology I had wanted to give at baggage claim reformulated in my brain. I would keep apologizing as long as it took for her to trust me again.

But then, the message box with its three little dots disappeared.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Gemma leaned against the beverage cart in the back of the plane and shifted her weight from one foot to the other as the cupboards and cubbies around us rattled and shook. Our flight that afternoon was unusually bumpy. Rough air had its advantages though, as beverage service was typically suspended for the duration.

“We make excuses all the time with this job. How we’re forced to put our life on hold because of our schedules. I’d been resisting it for too long,” she said, “but as soon as I saw his handsome face on the website, I knew I had to have him.”

She swiped her fingers across her phone and tilted the screen so I could see the picture for myself.

“He’s very cute,” I approved. “But are you sure you’re ready to deal with all that hair?”

Gemma pulled her phone back and gazed fondly at the screen. “Wouldn’t you put up with a lot more to have this guy waiting for you when you got home?”

“Does he cook dinner?” I laughed. “If so, maybe I’ll get a dog, too.”

“The shelter said I can pick him up on Saturday if you want to tag along?” she offered.

It hadn’t escaped my notice that ever since Gemma had over-shared about the bingo game in the Detroit airport bathroom, my friend blamed herself for what had happened with Anissa and had been desperate to make it up to me. First, there was Lara and the Mile High Club. More recently, Gemma had been inviting me to all of her non-work activities. Yoga classes. A rock climbing gym. A manicure and pedicure. A dim sum cooking class. It was like she’d purchased a Groupon for how to apologize to a friend.

I pressed my hand against the galley wall to steady myself when the plane shuddered from another rough pocket of air. “Thanks for the invite, but I promised Dawn we’d hang out on Saturday.”

The month had passed and with it came a whole new flying schedule. I hadn’t bid on any lines with overnight stays in different cities, and I was going to try to take less on-call days so I could be a more steady presence in my niece and nephew’s lives. And if Dawn actually went through with her divorce, I wanted to be there for her. For all the heartache that had come with meeting Anissa, at least it had helped me recognize the importance of family. Even though I returned nightly to an empty apartment—with the exception of my turtle, Honey—I wasn’t really alone.

“Fun! What’s the family activity this week?” Gemma asked.

“We’re taking June and Peter to the zoo.”

My friend practically clapped with excitement. “Oh, I love the Detroit zoo! It has all my favorites. The penguins and polar bears. The big cats. The primate pavilion,” she listed off. “Make sure you go to the butterfly garden, too. Your niece and nephew will love it.”

The muscles in my mouth twitched. Just the innocent mentioning of a butterfly house pulled too fresh and raw emotions to the surface. But Gemma had no way of knowing that, and I wasn’t going to tell her. She’d already beat herself up about my curtailed relationship too much.

“Look alive, ladies.” Kent rushed into the already cramped space of the rear galley. “Someone in First Class got sick.”

Even though it was a new month and a new schedule, we’d been able to secure another day of the week of flying together.

I waved off my friend. “Why are you telling us? That’s your section, buddy.”

Kent made a frustrated noise. “Don’t you have a bingo square or something?”

I shook my head. “I’m done with that. It screwed up everything.”

“I really think you should help them out,” Kent said through clenched teeth.

I narrowed my eyes shrewdly. “You’re just passing off one of your pukey passengers on me. They must really be a mess.”

Kent sighed loudly. “You’re ruining everything,” he complained. “She asked specifically for you.”

The pronoun reveal had me standing up straighter. “Who?”

“She’s in 4C.” Kent didn’t answer my question;