I’m going to dinner, of course. It’s my first day as a flight attendant, with my first crew. I just hate the idea of choosing between my new job and my old dream. It’s a reminder of what I’ve already left behind.
“They have a spot by the windows for us,” a deep voice calls. Vincent.
I nod thank you to Nathan, who is still holding the door for me, then enter and smile at the waiting couple. A black-clad waiter leads us through a maze of shiny wood tables toward a stucco fireplace accented with turquoise tiles.
Desiree offers me a seat facing the ocean so I can have the best view, but it also angles me toward the Zumba class starting in on another song. This time I can hear the music through open patio doors. I sway to the melody, then roll my arms like I’m joining in the flamenco-inspired moves.Olé, as Nathan would say.
Desiree sings along. I didn’t expect her to be a big fan of Latin music, but this song is titled “Baby,” so it makes sense.
Vincent unfolds his napkin. “Dinner and a show.”
Nathan chuckles. “You should have seen the show I got in the elevator.”
He tells the story, and I can’t help laughing at myself.
Desiree sips her water, then turns to me. “You used to be a dancer, baby?”
A sigh slips out. “Ballet. But then I got trigger toe, which is—”
“Your big toe locked up when you danceden pointe? Huh-uh.” She shakes her head as if a passenger tried to give her their trash while she was still serving drinks. I’m surprised she understands. “Did you do physical therapy?”
“I did everything. Even surgery.” I wince at the memory of having to use crutches for a month on top of not being able to dance anymore.
“Ooh ... That’s bad.”
Very bad. But how does she know? “Were you a dancer?”
“Our daughter was,” Vincent answers.
Desiree nods. “Her instructor had trigger toe but still taught. You ever think of teaching?”
“I tried.” I shrug, as if something so life changing could ever be shrugged off. “I do enjoy teaching, but not being able to demonstrate proper form hurt my heart too much.” I look away for a distraction. I don’t want pity from others or even myself.
“I’m sorry, baby. It’s hard to have your life reflowed.”
“Reflowed?”
Desiree chuckles. “I forget you’re new enough that you haven’t experienced being reflowed yet, but you will.”
Vincent takes her hand, as if being passed the baton to continue her conversation. They’re a team. “Reflowed is when you have a flight plan, but because of weather or mechanical issues or airport traffic, Crew Scheduling updates your trip sheet with a new plan that will work better in the grand scheme of things.”
I wrinkle my nose. “I didn’t realize they could do that.”
Nathan presses back in his seat. “Yeah. Sometimes you’ll get a longer overnight at a resort like this, but other times you’ll miss the football game you were planning to watch.”
I give him a half smile because both scenarios would be win-win for me.
Desiree nods. “You’ve got to take the good with the bad and trust that the smaller sacrifices are worth the greater good.”
My smile slips at the realization of her analogy. “Ballet wasn’t a small sacrifice.”
Desiree pats my hand with compassion. “That’s when it helps to see God as the control tower. He could be protecting you from something. Or even leading you somewhere better.”
I glance at Nathan to see if he’s also on board with the idea. If he believes in God.
His eyes soften. “Remember what I told you about how your goal isn’t to make passengers happy? It’s to keep them from harm? I believe that’s what He does for us too.”
Vincent chortles as he reaches across the table to slap Nathan on the back. “And he knows because he’s been very unhappy about it at times.”
