He checked his boarding pass.
They’d been separated. He was nearly on the other end of the plane.
“What?” Shanna whispered.
He held up his wrist with the tattoo.
“You can switch with Chris,” Shanna said.
“No way,” Chris said. “I got the window seat.”
“This is slightly more important than having a good view,” Simon said.
“Yeah? And what are you going to do?”
“Listen, kid.” Simon leaned closer, ignoring the man sitting by the aisle. “You don’t have the power here.”
“Maybe, but I have the ticket with my seat number on it.” Chris waved it, then put in her earbuds and looked out the window.
“Excuse me,” the man grumbled, and Simon moved away.
“Maybe there’ll be an empty seat nearby,” he said to Shanna and walked away. Or perhaps the distance wouldn’t be too great. He squeezed past the other passengers, but still a few rows before his assigned seat, his wrist yanked.
Come on. Just a little further.He took a few more steps.
His wrist yanked back with more force.
Acknowledging defeat, he made his way back to Shanna. The rest of the passengers had settled down by now. Not a single empty seat in sight.
Simon cleared his throat. “Hello. Hi.” He tapped Shanna’s neighbor on the shoulder. “Would you mind switching seats so I could sit with my … wife?”
The man looked around. “Where’s your seat?”
“Down there, in the middle.”
“Uh, I’d rather not. I have to get up frequently, and sitting in the middle …”
“Okay.” Simon brought out his wallet. “How much do you want?”
The man narrowed his eyes. “I don’t like your attitude.”
“My attitude? I’m only trying to sit—”
“Simon,” Shanna urged quietly.
“And I don’t like how you spoke to your kid earlier, either.”
“She’s not my—ugh.” Simon turned away, trying to ignore the stares of those who’d noticed the drama.
What was he supposed to do? He literally could not go to his seat without dragging Shanna out of hers, and the plane was full.
If they could’ve gone on his nice private jet, with nice comfortable seats, this would never have happened.
“Hey, Shanna,” he heard Chris’s voice behind him. “You didn’t forget to ask the flight attendant for nausea bags? You know how you get.”
“Right,” Shanna responded after a moment, not sounding entirely convinced.
“I would hate for you to puke all over the plane. Especially after all the sausages you’d eaten today,” Chris continued in a flat, mildly disinterested voice.
