His coarse inconsideration and traveling first-class remind me of Todd, someone I’m desperate to forget. Though Todd wasn’t an offense to my olfactory senses and presented himself with impeccable business attire.
I shift closer to the window, trying to put as much room between this barefoot grease weasel and myself as possible.
Another flight attendant appears, checking safety belts, seatbacks, and tray tables. “Excuse me, sir,” he says.
Manimal’s eyes are closed and he doesn’t respond.
“Sir,” he repeats and then shakes his head. Turning to me, he says, “Ma’am, we’re preparing for take-off. Could you please ask your dad to put his seat in a full and upright position?”
“My dad?” I stammer.
He takes a second look at me and winces. “Your husband?”
Easy enough mistake to make since Manimal spills over to my seat like he wants to snuggle. “I’m not married—” But my left hand with the slim band circling my finger tells a different story. It tells the truth. “I’m not married to him,” I correct.
The flight attendant huffs and moves to jostle Manimal awake. But the older woman in the aisle seat merely swats him on the arm and says, “Put your seat back up, buddy bucko.”
He blinks a few times and then obeys before closing his eyes and resuming his snore.
“Sometimes you have to be direct.” The older woman extends her hand for me to shake. “I’m Gudrun Sprunk, but my friends call me Goodie.” She winks at me. “I have a feeling we’re going to bond during this transatlantic adventure, so you can call me Goodie.”
I can’t help but smile. “I’m Everly. Nice to meet you. Any tips for how to get Manimal here to put his shoes back on?”
She laughs. “When the flight attendant brings beverages, I’ll get some ice in an extra-large cup. That oughta do the trick.”
Despite the slimy, porky, and rank rodent disguised as a human between us, snoring like a grizzly that swallowed a goose whole, maybe this will be a good flight after all.
“So, what are you in here for?” she asks.
I lean forward, not quite picking up Goodie’s meaning.
“Why are you confined to this metal missile that’s about to hurtle through the heavens?”
“Not a fan of flying?”
“No. I’m old-fashioned. Prefer my feet on the ground, my hands in the dirt, and the sun over my head. Oh, and I love homemade bread.” She pats a paper bag. “My sister lives in Concordia and has faced some health challenges. Had to have surgery, so I’m visiting to help while she recovers.” She winks. “It’s a surprise.”
“I wish I had a sister.” I’m thankful for everything Heidi did, but Goodie’s gesture gives me all the feels at how thoughtful and selfless it is, considering she’s not a fan of flying.
“No siblings?”
I shake my head. “But the answer to your question about why I’m traveling has two parts.”
“Oh, like a movie with a sequel?” But the maternal look she gives me suggests she understands the circumstances aren’t entirely sunny and if Manimal weren’t between us, she’d hug me, no questions asked.
Carrying all this baggage around is starting to wear me out and Goodie seems like the exact type of mom or grandma that you’d spill your life story to and won’t make it weird. I kind of need that kind of closure right now as I say goodbye to the past.
“For the first act, I’m kind of on the run from my ex-fiancé, who I stood up at the altar. He was cheating, so it was for the best. For the second, I’m also recovering from surgery. Cancer. The bad gene. Double mastectomy.”
She nods slowly, like she can fill in the blanks.
“Actually, there’s a third. I’m starting a new job.”
Goodie’s eyebrows lift into her tufty hair. “Sounds like you have a story to tell. Some grievances you could stand to get off your chest. Pun intended.”
My cheeks puff on an exhale. “You have no idea.”
“We have a lot of hours ahead of us. If you’re not the type to want to tune out the world, I’m all ears and this one is out cold,” she points to Manimal, “so whatever you have to say is between you, me, and the seatbacks.”
