Ready reserve is not something pilots deal with, since our union finally negotiated away the eight-hour shifts where we’re required to sit in the airport in uniform in case of emergency. Premier flight attendants haven’t had that same win yet.
“You been here long?” I ask.
“Since six a.m.” She says this with way too much energy.
More importantly, she has a couple more hours to kill. Looks as if she might be killing them with me. As someone who’s been actively avoiding her—yes, I worked another Sunday—I’m not sure how I feel about this.
She leans forward excitedly, as if to start catching up. “I found the crewlounge by myself, but it’s a cubbyhole compared to the one in Denver. Not even a recliner. At least I had the place to myself, so I was able to take a nap on the floor. Then I got bored and walked laps around the airport for some exercise since I can wear normal shoes now. I’m so glad I found you.”
The nap explains part of her perkiness. “How many cups of coffee have you had?”
“Too many.” She laughs. “Passengers have been giving me Starbucks cards as tips, so it’s pretty much all the free coffee I want. What about you? Are you on ready?”
No, I’m not getting paid to hang out here the way she is. “I’m on a sit. I fly out for a Portland turn in a couple of hours.”
“Maybe they’ll call me to work that trip with you. It feels like forever since we’ve flown together.”
I smile down at my salad, wondering both why I’ve been avoiding her delightful presence and whether I should run now. “I just returned from a four-day. Charlottesville, Bismarck, Austin.”
“I’ve only had Austin. Did you go watch the millions of bats fly out from underneath the bridge? I was able to get on a sunset boat cruise at the last minute because I was all by myself. And it’s a good thing I was, because the woman next to me got pooped on by a bat. Can you imagine if Angel had been sitting next to me?”
I chuckle at the image of the Southern belle covered in guano. Though the spectacle of a ribbon of bats streaming overhead for half an hour straight is truly an awesome sight to behold. “I’ve seen the bats before, but they fly south before November and weren’t there during this trip. They’ll return home around March.”
She gasps and grabs her phone. I didn’t hear it ring, but maybe she has it on silent and saw it flash or something. She can’t miss a call from Crew Scheduling her first year as a flight attendant, because she’s still in her probationary period.
“Speaking of returning home ...” She taps her screen. “Transfers are being announced today. I’m stalking the web page.”
My heart lurches at the idea of her leaving. I fight to keep my facial expression neutral. Not that she’s looking at me.
She sighs and sets her device down. “Do you know what time they’re supposed to be announced?”
My pulse settles back into its normal rhythm. “I don’t. I was based here straight out of training.”
“Lucky.” She plants an elbow on the table and her chin in her fist, giving me her full attention. It’s as cute as it is disconcerting. “When I went home a couple of weeks ago, I attended a church in the Tenderloin District.”
I smile because I already know this and because she wants to share it with me. “Surfer Captain told me.”
“Really?” She sits up straighter, eyes shining. “I was scared to attend on my own, so I’m really thankful my roommate’s crew was willing to join me.”
Me too. If I were her boyfriend, I would have been there as well, but that’s not my place. “You’ve come a long way since running away out of fear of being mugged.”
She chuckles at herself. “Surprisingly, I wasn’t afraid at all when we got there. I mean, we saw a guy peeing on the building and witnessed a drug deal go down, but we were surrounded by so much love that those dirty streets felt more like streets of gold. I was overwhelmed by the feeling and couldn’t sleep that night because I was too happy.”
I study her in wonder. The day I met her, she’d been hiding from a passenger out of fear of not being able to make the other woman happy. Then she herself had been unhappy at our cliffside resort in San Luis Obispo, where life is as good as it gets. But now she’s found joy in serving in the darkest, ugliest places. Whether I get to share in her life or not, this is what I’d want for her. “Happiness looks good on you.”
Her lips curve up as she meets my gaze. This time I hold it until she’s the one who looks away.
Her phone vibrates for real. She grabs it with the same eagerness as before. She taps on the screen and peers at it without emotion.
Does that mean she didn’t get transferred? Or Crew Scheduling assigned her a trip? Maybe she is going with me to Portland. “Did you get called out?”
She blinks and looks up. “Oh, no. It’s just an email about an open position for a training instructor. I didn’t realize Premier has instructors based here in Seattle. I thought they’d all be in Salt Lake, where I trained for a month.”
My chest tightens. She seems interested in the opening, and she’d have to be based here to take it. “That position must be for the recurrent training that flight attendants attend every year. It’s held in Seattle. Are you going to apply?”
I watch her expression for whatever she might not want to say. I watch with hope that she’ll stay. Which is stupid. I know she’s leaving. Even as we’re having this discussion, she’s waiting to be transferred back to San Francisco. Still, I watch.
She shrugs, though her eyes aren’t as nonchalant. There’s a spark of interest in a new opportunity. “I can’t apply until I’m through probation.”
