Page 187 of Wish You Were Mine
But Nora had always been nice to Charlotte the handful of times they’d met, so hopefully, she’d still like us by the time this plane landed in New Haven.
“Hey,” I said, stopping beside my seat.
“Hey.” She pulled out an AirPod and smiled at me, seeming just a little surprised. “Are you guys sitting here?”
“Guess so.” Then directing Charlotte to the middle seat, I said, “Okay, honey, this is your spot.”
And miracle of miracles, she offered a shy smile up at Nora before climbing into her seat.
Well, that was easier than expected.
“Want me to help with your seatbelt, Charlotte?” I heard Nora ask as I fussed with putting our carry-ons in the overhead bin.
And when I was ready to sit, I saw she was all secured and ready to go.
“Thank you for helping her,” I said, reaching around for my seatbelt.
“No problem,” Nora said. “Though, I could have sworn I heard that you and your parents were flying First Class.”
“That was the plan.” I chuckled. “But apparently, they oversold seats, so…here we are.”
“Slumming it with the rest of us,” she teased.
“Yep, lucky you,” I said, nodding down at my daughter who was most definitely not going to be keeping to the bubble of her seat. “I hope you don’t mind kids.”
“Oh, I love them,” she said. Then patting Charlotte’s leg, she added, “Plus, Charlotte and I are already buddies, aren’t we?”
“You’reLucy’sfriend,” Charlotte said matter-of-factly.
“You’re right.” Nora smiled. “But you and me can be friends now, too.”
“Okay.” Charlotte shrugged, seeming to like that idea.
“See, Charlotte and I are going to be just fine on this flight.” Nora said, her brown eyes smiling. “It’s you I’m worried about.”
“Me?” I furrowed my brow, wondering why she’d be worried about me. “I’ll be fine. Just a little more cramped is all.”
“Uh huh.” She smirked, her eyes skeptical. “I heard you used to fly on the Vanderbilts’ private jet back in the day. This must be rough for you.”
Okay, so she thought I was a snob.
But I wasn’t the only one here with fancy people in my life.
“Funny hearing you say that,” I said, arching a challenging eyebrow. “Weren’t you flying all over Europe in your famous pop star brother’s private jet last summer?”
“Okay, so I wasn’t planning to mention it since I didn’t want you to feel sorry for me,” she said with a grin. “But if I start crying into the complimentary pretzels later, you’ll know why.”
And I couldn’t keep my own grin from lifting my cheeks because this was actually kind of fun.
But before I could think of anything to say back, Charlotte suddenly piped up, “Daddy cries sometimes, too.”
I groaned. “Thanks, kiddo.”
Nora laughed, but when her eyes met mine again, there was a softness there. Like she understood why a widowed father might get emotional from time to time.
And while the thought of anyone knowing I sometimes cried when the grief of losing Alisha suddenly hit would have embarrassed me a few years ago, I just had to shrug and embrace it since letting the emotion out was better than keeping it bottled up.
About an hour into the flight, after the fiftieth request from Charlotte for fruit snacks, Nora pulled out her phone to look at something.
