The Bridesmaid

and little kids who ran without looking, past harried business travelers like him.

When he reached the kiosk, he punched the screen as he had a thousand times before, going quickly through the required entries. Something pink was in his peripheral vision, darting in and out, in and out. He glanced at the kiosk directly to his right and saw a woman with shoulder-length blonde hair, an enormous suitcase, and an even larger pink garment bag. At least he thought it was a garment bag. It was hard to make out; it was bloated and huge and reminded him of a life raft.

She was trying to hold on to all of it as she used one finger to jab at the screen.

Joe pulled out his license and held it up to the airline attendant. She handed him his boarding pass. “The flight is delayed about an hour,” she said. “Gate 12.”

“No, come on,” Joe whined. “Not today. I had a late night last night, and the last thing I want is to be hanging out in a crowded airport with all of them,” he said, jerking his thumb over his shoulder. He smiled at the attendant.

She did not return his smile. “It’s better than listening to people complain about it all day, trust me. A big storm is cutting across the country. A lot of flights have been canceled. Honestly? You’ll be lucky to get out.”

“Great,” Joe muttered. He sighed, took the boarding pass, and moved away from the kiosk. He inadvertently stepped on the giant pink raft when he did.

“Hey!” the woman said.

“Sorry,” Joe muttered, and shimmied around her, the pink raft, and the blue bag that looked as if it could hold a small house.

After an interminable wait in the security line, Joe fit his belt back through the loops of his pants, returned his shoes to his feet, and wandered through the terminal, looking for a coffee shop. He ordered a cup of joe, black and thick. He downed it, then collapsed into a chair at the gate. He leaned back, intending to doze, when something knocked against the back of his head. He sat up with a start and turned around, just in time to see that pink raft go sailing by. What had gotten him was the woman’s tote bag, draped over her shoulder.

Unbelievable.

Joe stood up and went in search of a calmer place to nap before his plane left.

He found a place, but his nap was a fitful one, due to all the announcements of cancellations and delays. Still, Joe felt a little better when he woke later and stretched out his legs and his arms above his head. He squinted at his gate; they were boarding. Hallelujah—he’d get out of this pit after all. He sauntered to the boarding line, maneuvering once again through even more clumps of people. It almost seemed as if they were being pumped into the airport in groups of twos and threes.

He was among the first to board, thanks to his frequent flyer miles, and settled in to an aisle seat on the same aisle as an elderly woman who had her attention turned to the window. The flight attendant announced to those coming onboard that the flight was completely full and to quickly take their seats. Must be some storm, Joe thought absently, and flipped through the SkyMall magazine.

He was sure another person could not squeeze onto that plane when he saw the pink raft inch its way on board. He watched as the woman and a flight attendant worked to shove the raft into the tiny garment closet. It took both of them and a lot of discussion, but finally, they managed to get the raft in and get the door shut.

The woman was smiling when she stopped at Joe’s row. “I think that’s my seat,” she said, pointing to the middle seat.

What were the odds? “Sure,” Joe said, and stood up to allow her to pass.

Her big tote bag knocked into him as she shimmied into the row.

It seemed to take her an inordinate amount of time to get situated, trying her bag beneath the seat in front of her in various configurations, then finally using both boots to push it under.

And then she started to chat.

“Whew,” she said. “This is one crowded flight.”

He did not respond. It was his experience that the less he said, the less people tried to talk to him, as he really had no desire to make friends on every flight he took. He preferred to be left alone, to work or sleep or listen to music if he wanted.

But the chick sitting next to him, cute though she was with her bright green eyes and silky blonde hair, talked. She said, apparently to no one, that she didn’t like to fly, but that she had to get to a wedding. When that elicited no response, she asked Joe why he was on his way to Seattle.

“Job.”

“Job!” she said, and nodded as if she approved. “What sort of job?”

“Computers.” God, was there any way to cut this off without being a complete jerk? Joe realized he suddenly had a raging headache.

“You will love Seattle. I’m from there. It doesn’t rain as much as you think—it can be really nice.”

He hadn’t said one word about rain. “Okay.”

“It’s really beautiful.”

“Yeah… I’ve been a few times.”

“Oh. Okay.” She settled back, helping herself to the armrest between them.

“Gooooood afternoon, ladies and gentlemen,” said a voice over the intercom. “We’ve got some light turbulence ahead associated with this big blizzard that’s cutting across the country. We’re going to ask the flight attendants to remain in their seats until we feel it’s safe for them to be up and around. In the meantime, please stay in your seats with your seat belts fastened until we turn off the seat-belt sign.”

“But I’m starving. I wanted peanuts,” the woman next to him muttered.

The pilot said some other things that were lost on Joe because he had closed his eyes and was drifting off again. He apparently drifted hard, because he was only vaguely aware of takeoff. He didn’t know how long he dozed, but he was rudely awakened by a rather severe drop in altitude that caused everyone in the cabin to cry out.

“Folks, we’re heading into some turbulence. Please stay in your seats with your seat belts securely fastened,” the pilot said again, which was reiterated by the more urgent voice of the flight attendant.

Joe sat up and glanced to his left. The woman in the center seat had a mound of little peanut bags on her tray. She noticed him looking at them and picked one up. “You want one? They came by while you were snoring.”

“I was snoring?” he asked, mortified.

“A little.” She shook the peanut bag at him again. “You want?”

“No. Thanks.”

She shrugged and, with one hand, swiped the peanuts into her bag and lifted her tray table.

At the same moment, they hit another pocket of turbulence that made the plane shake. The woman grabbed the armrest, her eyes wide. “What the hell?”

“It’s just turbulence,” Joe said with the authority of a seasoned traveler, but he was wondering the same thing. That was a pretty big drop.

“Hey folks, I’ve got some news,” the pilot’s disembodied voice said above them. “What we’ve got here is the convergence of a Canadian cold front and a tropical storm coming up from the Atlantic that’s just creating havoc across the country. Unfortunately, this big late-season blizzard had some pretty impressive ice associated with it, and we have an instrument that’s acting a little wacky. We’re going to land in Dallas and have a look.”

“Oh no,” the woman muttered, her head bouncing back against the seat back. “No, no, no, no. I have to be in Seattle.”

No, Joe silently agreed.

“Don’t worry, we’re going to get you to Seattle,” the pilot said, apparently able to hear the hue and cry that was welling up in the cabin. “But we want to get you there safely.”

“I don’t care how you get me there,” she muttered. “Just get me there.”

Chapter 2

From the small sliver of window that Kate could see, it looked as if every plane flying across the United