I blink awake,warm and disoriented. Then I see Nalani beside me, her head tipped toward the window and Savannah asleep against her chest, both of them wrapped in the sling.
Safe, she’s safe.
Nalani catches me watching and smiles. “You actually slept.”
“Miracle, right?” My voice is still rough with it. “How long?”
“Two hours, maybe a little more,” she says. “She’s been an angel. Not a peep.”
I stretch, my joints cracking. “Thank you for holding her.”
“Are you kidding? I’ve never been this relaxed on a flight. She’s better than a therapy dog.”
That earns a laugh out of me, low and real. “She does have that effect.”
Nalani looks down at Savannah, brushing a finger lightly over her cheek. “She’s beautiful, Claudia. Just like her mom.”
Having been in a sorority during undergrad and an advisor during grad school, I’ve learned to read women in a way I didn’t in the system. It’s instinct now, almost clinical. Nalani is old-money polished but unpretentious. The kind of woman who’s been taught to fit into any room but who doesn’t quite know where she belongs anymore.
She’s dressed for the shift in worlds — light, layers that will still make sense when the cold air hits us in New York. She wearssoft olive joggers that taper neatly at the ankle, white leather sneakers, and an airy cream button-down. A tan cashmere wrap rests over her shoulders. Her jewelry is quiet but intentional — gold hoops, a slim watch, a single ring that isn’t a wedding band.
Her hair is smooth and dark, braided low, and when the cabin lights catch her skin, it glows faintly, still kissed by the Maui sun. She looks like someone who belongs in first class but chose not to sit there. That choice says more than her outfit ever could. She has dark brown eyes, that are warm and kind. Trusting her wasn’t instinctual; it never would be, but all those things allow me to put trust in her.
When Savannah shifts, I instinctively reach for her. “I should feed her before we land. Otherwise, she’ll wake up starving when we hit baggage claim.”
Nalani passes her over carefully, the transfer smooth and practiced, as if she’s done it a hundred times.
“You wake her to eat?” she asks as I throw a blanket over my shoulder.
“If I don’t, she’ll end up waking hungry at the most inopportune time, like while I’m trying to keep her stroller at my side and pull two suitcases to haul to a cab,” I say as I take Savannah and situate her.
“You don’t have someone picking the two of you up?” She asks.
“This little one and I have it all under control.” I smile down at her.
“Where are you two heading?” she asks.
“Manhattan,” I answer, smiling softly down on her.
“Me, too, I have a car. We’ll drop you two wherever you’re going.”
“I have taken advantage of your kindness for this whole trip. I can’t?—”
She shakes her head. “You have no idea what you’ve both done for me. And besides, it’s about dark. I wouldn’t be able to sleep if I didn’t know you two have gotten to your destination.”
Something in her tone, that mix of warmth and quiet heartbreak, makes me stop instead of arguing. I just nod, tucking the blanket tighter around Savannah and feed her.
TWO
Brooklyn
Claudia
The descent feels endless.The plane rattles through a patch of turbulence that makes my stomach drop, and Savannah lets out a tiny whimper against my chest, but doesn’t stop nursing, which I take comfort in after doing the research on flying with an infant. Feeding during take-off and landing is a lot like us chewing gum, yawning, and popping our ears, or at least the closest thing to it an infant can do. I hush her quietly, my lips pressed to the soft fuzz of her hair.
The captain’s voice crackles overhead, announcing our approach to JFK. My heart pounds harder than it should. I tell myself it’s just the landing, but we both know better.
When the wheels finally slam the runway, I breathe out slowly, relief and dread tangled together. Maui feels a thousand miles behind me—and it is—, but it feels even further, like another life. There, it was just me, my daughter, and peace. Here, it’s noise, gray skies, and the man who decided I was agold digger before I could even finish a sentence. His turning away was exactly what I had wanted, a gift I gladly accepted, and now… now I have to do what I can to protect Savannah. There’s no point in overthinking it, trying to make a plan; all I can do is hope that when he sees her, I can convince him that this is what’s best for her.
