The Single Dad had seen that before too.
Not turbulence.
Fear.
Real fear.
“My mother.”
Her voice barely came out.
“What happened?”
“She collapsed.”
The Single Dad sat straighter.
“Where?”
“Seattle.”
That surprised him.
“She flew in yesterday.”
“She was supposed to meet me tomorrow.”
The CEO tried calling again.
Nothing.
“My assistant says ambulance.”
Another message arrived.
Hospital name.
Emergency department.
The CEO stared at it.
For the first time all flight, she looked completely lost.
“I should have called her.”
The Single Dad looked toward her.
“Don’t do that.”
She shook her head.
“I was supposed to call last night.”
“You didn’t cause this.”
“I ignored her message because I was working.”
“That still didn’t cause this.”
The CEO looked toward him.
Her eyes were wet now.
“I told you I never make time.”
The Single Dad’s voice softened.
“You’re making time now.”
“It may be too late.”
“Don’t borrow tragedy before you have facts.”
She inhaled.
He continued:
“When we land, call the hospital.”
“Not your assistant.”
“Not anyone interpreting it.”
“The hospital.”
She nodded.
Her breathing became uneven again.
The Single Dad placed his hand on the armrest.
Same as during turbulence.
The CEO looked at it.
Then slowly placed her hand over his.
This time deliberately.
He did not move.
Her fingers were cold.
They remained like that through descent.
No flirting.
No jokes.
Just contact.
At touchdown, everyone immediately reached for phones.
The CEO called the hospital before the aircraft left the runway.
Transferred.
Transferred again.
Then a doctor.
The Single Dad looked away to give privacy.
Her hand tightened around his.
Her mother was alive.
Stable.
Intensive observation.
Possible cardiac event.
More tests.
The CEO closed her eyes.
A tear escaped.
The Single Dad pretended not to notice.
When the call ended, she whispered:
“She’s alive.”
He smiled.
“Good.”
The CEO wiped her cheek.
Then laughed shakily.
“I’m crying in economy.”
“Scandalous.”
She looked at him.
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“Today.”
The Single Dad opened his backpack.
“For all I know, you would’ve survived the turbulence without me.”
“I would have.”
“You sound sure.”
“I’m a CEO.”
“Right.”
She smiled.
Passengers began standing.
The Single Dad waited.
No reason to join the aisle war.
The CEO remained seated too.
Finally:
“Where are you going?”
“My sister’s.”
“How?”
“Train.”
The CEO frowned.
“No.”
He looked at her.
“No?”
“My driver is meeting me.”
“That sounds useful.”