“You okay?” he asked, snapping me out of my personal staring contest.
“Yeah. Sorry. I was just wondering, um, what school you went to.”
“Stony Brook University. It’s—”
“On Long Island. Yep. I’ve heard of it,” I interrupted.
“How about you? Where’d you go to school?”
“Queens College, unsurprisingly.” I shrugged. “It was local and cheap and had a good teaching program.”
“Nothing wrong with that,” he said with a grin. “So, you said ‘local.’ Are you from Queens?”
“Indeed I am. I was born in Manhattan, but we moved to Queens when I was a baby.”
“What part of Queens?”
“Forest Hills?” I asked, because very often people outside of Queens really didn’t know the intricacies of the different neighborhoods.
“Nice,” he said. “Did you always want to be a teacher?”
“Well,” I replied, considering. No harm in being honest with an airplane stranger, I supposed, even a particularly handsome one. “That’s kind of a loaded question,” I said. “I learned early on that a woman should always make enough money to support herself and one child.”
“Hm.” He paused. “I think that’s a pretty loaded answer. Your theory sounds kind of true for anyone though, right? Even if it is a little pessimistic.”
“I know. But it’s true. I was raised by a single mom. She went into teaching because she wanted to have good health insurance, the same schedule as me, summers off, and a pension. So I did the same.”
“I thought you said your mom was a songwriter?”
“She was. Until she got pregnant.”
“Ah. I see.”
“She was really struggling until “Love Is a Melody” took off. Then she got some money, moved to New York, and decided to pursue her master’sdegree in music education while she continued writing songs for a record label in the city. The master’s degree was her backup plan. She always taught me that nothing’s more important than a good education.”
“Can’t argue with that,” he said.
“Anyway, sure enough, she got pregnant and then decided she wanted to stay home with me. My dad was out of the picture, but she’d saved up some money and figured she could write freelance from home to make ends meet,” I explained. “Obviously, this was a long time ago, so working remotely wasn’t exactly a common thing.”
“Right.”
“She moved us to Queens because it was cheaper and safer than where we were in Manhattan, but she still blew through her savings pretty quickly. She didn’t want to commute back to the city or have to put me in some kind of all-day day care situation. But the local high school was hiring a part-time music teacher, and because of her master’s degree, she was able to apply for it. Eventually, that turned into a full-time thing, and she just retired after twenty-five years in the system.”
“So, is this trip like her retirement celebration?”
I thought about that. “I guess. Kind of.”
He looked at me like he wanted to say more, but nothing else came.
I decided to fill the empty air with a subject change. “How about you? Are you a Long Island boy?”
“Technically, yes. I’m from Floral Park. It’s on the Queens border.”
I nodded. “I’ve heard of it.”
“And, like I mentioned, I went to school on Long Island too. Don’t hold it against me.”
“Long Island’s okay,” I offered.
