“You need toremain seated, miss,” the attendant said. “Here’s an airsickness bag.”
“Ohhhh,” Clare moaned. She flailed her hands at the bag, missing on purpose, and flung her full can of club soda and the cup full of ice over Griffin’s chest.
“What the feck?” Griffin lurched awake when Clare plastered herself on his fizzing chest, with ice rolling down his shirt.
“I’m so sorry, argghhh,”she made retching sounds, all the while pawing at Griffin as if he were a life raft.
“Here, let me hold the bag,” the attendant said. “Right here, in front of your face. Don’t miss. Please, don’t miss.”
Clare made hurling sounds into the airsickness bag, lifting and dipping her long, messy hair so that it flung every which way. Her crown of thorns fell onto her lap, stabbing hergut as she mock-retched.
But underneath all the commotion, her busy hands swapped the Heart of Brigid, which weighed more than she’d expected, with the hard lump of coal.
Making one giant roar, she pretended to try and cover the stomach contents spewing from her mouth, and neatly dropped the Heart of Brigid into the bag.
“Dear, dear, let it all out,” the flight attendant said.“We’re almost landing. Let me get you another bag. Think you can hold onto this while I unfold another one?”
“Yes, I shouldn’t have eaten so much. Shouldn’t have drank all the whiskey, oh, no, it’s all coming out.” Clare dropped the bag onto the floor and kicked it under the seat in front while reaching for the new one. She made more disgusting noises and rolled to her side of the seat,moaning and holding her stomach until the airplane had safely landed.
No surprise, as soon as it was time to deplane, Griffin grabbed his carry-on and elbowed his way out without a backward glance. Clare saw him pat his chest, apparently satisfied he still had his “heart.”
She recovered miraculously as she carefully hooked the Heart of Brigid to a braided cord around her neck. Calmly,she strapped on her ostrich wings, took out her compact, and reapplied her makeup. After patting down her hair and putting on her fairy queen crown, she reached for her carry-on bag.
A small, green, spiral-bound notebook was sticking out of the pocket in front of Griffin’s seat.
Very interesting.
It appeared she and Griffin were indeed fated to meet again. Casually, she slippedthe green, plastic-covered notebook into her carry-on and joined the rest of the deplaning passengers.
“Feeling better?” the flight attendant asked Clare on her way out.
Clare put her hand over the lump under her vest. “Oh yes, my heart belongs home in Éireann.”
