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“I guessed.” He had a British accent, Cockney maybe. “Actually, it’s on your ticket. And it’s the
first flight out this morning.”
If the gods were truly on my side, they’d give me this man to lean on during turbulence.
“Is that where you’re going too?” I asked, and yes, eyelashes were batted.
Before he could answer, a brusque security officer motioned me through the full-body X-ray. I
stepped into the chamber, threw my hands in the air and spun, and then was reunited with my
belongings. By the time I turned around to continue my conversation, the man was being ushered
ahead of everyone in line, flanked by two men in uniform. He must have been someone important. He
was definitely well dressed. Being in the fashion business, I noticed good buttons and well-chosen
cufflinks and how a shirt that’s been properly tailored hangs spectacularly down a man’s V-shaped
back as he walks away from you—turning back once, as this one did, to glance at you over his
shoulder.
From the moment I sat down in my aisle seat in First Class, the cool blond flight attendant seemed
specifically assigned to me.
“I’m Eileen. We were told this was your first time,” she said. “You let me know how I can make
this less stressful for you.”
She brought me a hot towel, a small footrest and a stack of celebrity magazines, each time placing a
reassuring hand on my forearm. During the taxi, she addressed her safety demonstration directly to
me. And when the plane sucked me back into the seat on takeoff, a most shocking and intoxicating
feeling, Eileen winked at me from her saddle seat. I almost burst into tears at her kindness, let alone
at the thoughtfulness of Matilda to let them know of my first-timer status. Still, it wasn’t until we
leveled off that I loosened the grip on my armrests, my fingers numb from clasping so tightly.
The seat-belt light went off, but I had no interest in unbuckling. In fact, my plan was to pass on
every beverage, lest I had to pee while flying thirty thousand feet over Peru. I decided if I sat very,
very still, I could get through this ordeal, a few hundred miles a minute, never leaving my seat, never
looking out the window, even though the seat beside me was empty.
An hour and a half into the flight, we were all still alive, and I began to move my legs a little,
tilting my seat back to settle in for the night flight. People began to close their windows, and Eileen
dimmed the cabin lights before passing out extra blankets. When she kneeled in front of me, I thought
for a moment that she was literally going to tuck me in. Instead, she deposited a folded blanket on my
lap and leaned in to whisper, “Miss Mason, the captain would be happy to honor your request to visit
the cockpit while the plane’s on autopilot.”
I burst out laughing. Never had anyone so seriously mistaken me for someone else.
“Oh, I didn’t ask for any such thing. I would never—”
Before I could finish my sentence, Eileen gently removed an envelope from the folds of my blanket
and left it on my lap. “I’m sure we’re not mistaken,” she said, eyeing me steadily. “I’ll return in a few
minutes to escort you.”
The envelope was unmarked, but I recognized the paper’s creamy color. My heart started to race.
Was I facing Step Three at thirty-five-thousand feet in the air? My hand was shaky as I ripped open
the envelope. Sure enough, Step Three scrolled on one side of the heavy card stock and just one
simple word was on the other: Trust. But who was doing the trusting—me, or every one of the
passengers on this plane who wouldn’t care to know how I was about to distract the pilot? I slipped
the Step card into my purse and shook out a half-dozen Tic Tacs, which I barely had time to finish
before the flight attendant returned.
“Are you ready, Miss Mason?”