When we arrived at the airport, I pulled out my compact and did a quick touch up before entering. Smiling, we walked through the sea of people eyeing us. I waved at a couple of kids while Donna greeted a few businessmen, always on the lookout for a husband.
We fell in line for our inspections.
“Donna, I hope you have your girdle with you,” Linda said. “I saw your hips jiggling when you walked in.”
I snickered as Donna rolled her eyes. “Yes, I do. It was an oversight, Linda. I’ll go put it on right now.”
“Thank you, dear. And Patty… where are your heels?”
I’d worn my most comfortable shoes—a navy blue pair of Mary Janes that matched my uniform. “If you recall, I sprained my ankle last week,” I replied. “I didn’t think I’d make it through the day in my heels.”
“Ah, yes. I forgot about that. Very well, but we need you back in your heels as soon as possible. The Mary Janes give you a clunky look instead of the long, sleek profile we prefer our stews to have. You do look pleasantly refreshed, Patty. Well done on getting your rest.”
I smiled, delighted that Linda was happy with me.
“However, you do need some lip coloring. Please add a little something, okay?”
I reached for my bag and pulled out my Mary Quant lipstick—a very light shade of pink that really made my blue eyes stand out.
When inspections were finished, Linda approached me once again. “Patty, for this flight, you’ll be at the front of the plane. Donna will be stationed at the back. Your head stew will be Marsha. Have you two ever met?”
“I don’t believe so,” I replied, trying to keep the excitement out of my voice. The front of the plane! Wow! Donna may have had her trip to Paris, but I was finally moving up!
Linda called Marsha over and introduced us. A bubbly woman with brown hair, green eyes, and a bright smile took my hand in hers and seemed incredibly excited to meet me. “We’re going to have an excellent flight! I can feel it in the air!”
I grinned at the thick Texas accent, which immediately brought Special Agent Bill Hart to mind.
Had he caught his serial killer yet?
Donna, Marsha, and I crossed the tarmac and climbed up the stairs to our awaiting plane. Once we had our bags tucked away, we began our examination of the interior, making sure all was right for our onboarding customers.
When the pilots arrived, we greeted them and everyone introduced themselves, then they moved to the cockpit. I had previously only met the co-pilot, a nice man who, based on his sheer physical size, should have been a football player. I’d dubbed him Large Larry.
“The customers are coming!” Marsha called, and I hurried up to my spot at the front of the plane, leaving Donna at the back. I smiled, threw my shoulders back, sucked in my stomach, and took my place next to Marsha.
“You sounded like Paul Revere there,” I whispered, keeping my gaze on the line of people crossing the tarmac.
She laughed and grabbed my hand. “I can tell flying with y’all is going to be great fun!”
As the customers filed up the staircase, we welcomed them, checked their tickets, and pointed them to their seats. We raced to help people with bags, hang coats, and retrieve coffee and cocktails. Before I knew it, the time had come for takeoff.
With a sigh, I took my jump seat next to Marsha and closed my eyes for a few moments. It would be the only time I had to rest before we began service for the coast-to-coast flight. A child began crying a few rows back, and I made a mental note to grab some crayons to placate her, as well as to see about a trip to the cockpit. I’d never flown with our captain and co-pilot, so I hoped they’d be open to seeing children. I loved watching their faces light up when they entered the important space and received their airline pin.
The loud rumbling of the plane made a cat-nap impossible, but when we were given the all-clear to begin breakfast preparation, I took two aspirin for my ankle that had begun to act up, and I was ready.
Breakfast consisted of cheese omelets, a danish and a fruit bowl, and of course, a white rose. The coffee and tea flowed, as did the grapefruit juice and mimosas. I handed out magazines, crayons for the children, and chatted with a few women about my life as a glamorous stew—then fetched a cigarette butt from the floor. Glamorous? In the advertisements, yes. But when it came down to the nuts and bolts of reality, the actual job couldn’t be described as such. Why people couldn’t deposit the garbage in the ashtrays, I’d never understand.
“Any more coffee for you, sir?” I asked a man who resembled Bob Crane so closely, I almost asked if he was the actor.
“No, thank you,” he replied pleasantly with a smile.
I returned to the front galley where I found Marsha preparing a tray. “That guy in 4C resembles Bob Crane.”
She glanced over at me and smiled. “It is Bob Crane, silly.”
I gasped and glanced around the corner at him again. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. He’s very dreamy, isn’t he? I’ve had him on my flight a few times.”
“I have to tell Donna,” I said. “She loves him.”
“Sure. Just make sure she doesn’t fawn over him too much. He doesn’t like the attention, and we want to keep him coming back to our airline, not send him somewhere else.”
Could Donna meet one of her favorite actors without become a star-struck blabbering idiot?
I was about to find out.
After delivering my drinks, I hurried down the smoke-filled aisle to Donna and whispered my findings.
Her eyes widened and she almost dropped her tray. “Are you kidding me? Don’t mess with me on this one, Patty. Bob Crane is here? On this
