By Laverty Sparks

As I wedged my way into the cramped airplane seat, middle position, I noticed the young gent of twenty-five or twenty-six years old occupying the window seat. He missed out on the world around him and outside the window as he focused on his smartphone, thumbs blazing.

An obviously-stressed woman, hitting forty in my estimation, threw her suitcase into the overhead compartment and sat beside me.

She was a different story from the tech geek to my right.

“Oh, if only my husband would travel with me. I could really use the help.” This lady was apparently talking to me as I was the only reluctant listener. “But as it is, he won’t do planes, cruises, no busses, nothing.” She caught her breath. “All he wants to do is sit home.” She buckled her seat belt which was a chore at a compact waist circumference of probably fifty inches. “I can’t do it. I can’t sit at home. Can you?”

I “hummphed” a few times to engage in the one sided conversation but I’d rather be reading the romance novel stationed in my hand. Some people just can’t take a hint.

The woman laughed. “Of course not because here you are!” She crossed her arms. “But I love him. We just have our own interests.” She grinned and fluffed her tightly cropped head of salt and pepper hair.

Apparently lonely, she never waited for any reciprocation. I half listened. The other half concentrated on the announcement of how long the flight would be.

Too long I had a feeling.

“Care to see pictures of us?” She’d already retrieved her purse from beneath the seat in front of her as the flight attendants made their way down the aisles, making sure everyone was fastened in. 

“Sure, why not?” I responded with a long sigh. 

Did I have a choice?

She rummaged through the leather pouch, finding what she was looking for, and displayed the picture of a couple at Christmastime posed in front of a gorgeous well-decorated tree.

Nonchalantly I took a peek, uninterested. I nodded my head and added a “that’s nice” to the mix. Gandering at strangers’ photos wasn’t in my plans at thirty five thousand feet.

Then emotional terror struck … recognition hadn’t registered instantly. OMG!

You know the feeling when a car nearly T-bones you and you escape from the incident shaking?

I was experiencing that same reaction.

The man starring back at me in the photo was a guy I’d recently ended an affair with. 

How could I keep my cool? Not react?

Was this intentional? 

A setup?

Surely not!

But what’s the chance?

My heart skipped a beat and I hugged the book closer to my chest hoping it would provide some kind of shield she couldn’t penetrate. The possibility of me and her meeting was as remote as hitting a jackpot the first time gambling.

What could I do? I was trapped.

She almost returned the picture to her purse before I stopped her.

“May I see that again?” I managed. “Your tree looks fantastic, almost like mine from last year.”

She bought the request. 

The photo confirmed any suspicions I had left. It was Steven Morris. I always wondered in our relationship how his wife could have been so naïve, how she could have not known he really wasn’t working overtime. How she could have not realized his attention really wasn’t on the family at quality times.

Unless he was really good at hiding his emotions.

Perhaps I was the one who was fooled.

“Oh yes, wonderful.” Was all I could muster as my throat tightened, as fear took a swipe at my courage. Would she believe my irony?

My conscience wasn’t fit for any more of this discussion.

Fortunately with no suspicion, she put away the items, yawned, and closed her eyes. I could finally breathe a sigh of relief. Now I could collect my thoughts, and my resolve.  

Leaning my head back, I remembered Steven so clearly in my mind. His broad shoulders, lean hips, a smile that wouldn’t quit. Sandy blonde hair naturally parted on the left side, starched shirts, creased pants. Goodness, could he make a suit look fabulous! 

  He used to admit he’d rode lightly over the bumps and ruts in life and landed at my doorstep.

Yet there were hurdles he had to maneuver. 

After noticing me at the company we both worked at, he’d tried for months to capture my notice. I knew it but wouldn’t reciprocate. After all, I had my principles, knowing he was married.

But after a while his influence loomed too large for me to ignore and before long we were meeting for drinks. The rest of the three year affair is history, of which I ended.

Now as I glanced at a smiling and snoring Mrs. Morris beside me I couldn’t help but feel pity for her. Steven and I weren’t out to hurt anyone, especially her or their children. We just had things in common like work, free spirits, and needs to get more out of life. And we understood each other.

I have to wonder if the misses ever knew about the infidelity. Or if she did, simply chose to ignore it. Because obviously they were still married. 

Shaking my head back to the matter at hand, I opened my book but couldn’t concentrate. Glancing at my watch I realized two hours had passed since we took off from the airport. 

How was that possible? Was I so self-absorbed that I allowed this to happen?

Goodness! What a trip it had been.

“Folks we’re beginning our final approach into Tampa. Please make sure your seat belts are properly fastened.”

Oh, how I wished more than that was fastened!

  Common sense wrestled with venture. A major decision to call him again and tell him what happened snuck into my conscience.

Should I?

Did I really want to punish him?

As the jet bounced down the runway, taxied, and parked at the gate, it was now me with a smile on her face.

I knew the answers to my own questions even before unfastening my seat belt.

                                                               *   *   *

Laverty Sparks is the gal you want to tell your secrets to, she’s just that trustworthy. She’s the kind of woman the others have a hard time figuring out…she’s that mysterious. But she’s the sensitive best friend, lover, neighbor, sibling, daughter, aunt, cousin, etc. who sympathizes and empathizes. And she writes about it, and for those women who have an understanding of the range of emotions when dealing with intimacy. Laverty’s works have been published under the name of Laurel Sparks-Sellers in Senior Living, Indiana Voice Journal, Boomer Women Speak: Our Voices, Foliate Oak Literary Magazine, and Indiana Voice Journal.