Page 21 of Cameron's Contract
“I should get back.” She glanced toward the front of the plane.
“Some milk perhaps?” I said warmly.
She poured milk into my mug. “You’re a doctor?”
I ignored my brother’s knowing stare.
She added milk into their coffees too. “Dr. Cole, is it true you once finished the New York Times crossword puzzle in under four minutes?”
“Don’t remember that,” I said.
“You’re dad told me he’d only put the paper down for a few minutes and when he picked it up again you’d finished it.”
“So nothing about my work then?”
Irene looked surprised. “You were nine.”
“Years old?” asked Shay.
“Yes,” she said. “Apparently.”
I shrugged. “So no mention of my work?”
“We don’t really talk that much. Sorry. Your dad works during each flight. He never sleeps. Never watches a movie. Makes calls. Works on his laptop.”
“This is great coffee,” I said.
“Of course it is.” Irene smiled, then she pushed her cart off up the aisle.
“She didn’t offer us peanuts,” said Henry.
“Nine years old,” said Shay. “Seriously, Cameron, how did you do that?”
“Must have known the answers.”
Shay leaned forward on his elbows. “When did you first realize you were smarter than everyone else?”
“Wouldn’t say that.”
“Then how would you say it?”
“Maybe it’s because of nut allergies,” Henry said.
Shay chuckled. “Bet you know the answer to that one too, Cam.”
I pushed myself to my feet. “I’ll get some.”
“How do you know she has any?” said Shay, impressed. “Residual salt on Irene’s fingertips from where she’s eaten a packet herself. An empty packet in the trash?”
I beamed at him. “They were on the cart.”
More laughter flowed.
Having calmed a devastated Irene over forgetting to deliver our snacks, I returned to my seat and was rewarded with cheers. I handed over the chips, peanuts, and chocolate covered pretzels. “We’ve been warned not to ruin our appetites. Irene’s bringing menus.”
“Dinner or breakfast?” asked Shay.
“Whatever you like.”
