It was dark down below us, since it was after ten at night, so there were no patchwork quilts of agricultural crops. All we could see out of our small airplane windows were lights, many of them blinking colorful warnings so that the plane would not fly too closely. I guess you could say that tall buildings now wore lighthouses on their roofs.
“Are you okay?” Timothy asked, his forehead streaked with worry lines like an old man’s.
“Yes, piece of cake,” I told him, only lying the smallest bit to my great surprise, because I was truthfully no longer in panic mode, having adjusted to the noises, the changing air pressures, and the compressed bodies of strangers all around me, all secured in their dentist chair capsules.
I gave Timothy a limp smile and sighed deeply.
“Does she need a pill yet?” Terry inquired, despite having received a growl from Timothy when the werewolf guard had asked that question previously.
Before my husband could snap at him, I responded with an “I’m fine, Terry. Thanks.”
“Darn wolves have fallen for you,” Timothy whispered into my ear. “Must you charm everyone?”
I was saved from answering Timothy when a stewardess with the beverage cart stopped to ask our drink of choice. Before Timothy could respond, I said, “We’ll both have bottles of water, please.”
Timothy snorted, catching on immediately that I was paying him back for being dictatorial on our previous flights. When the stewardess stared at my husband searchingly, Timothy backed me up, saying, “Yes, my wife knows me well. Water it is.”
I guess the attendant didn’t like that answer because she offered a list of things he could order, but he continued to shake his head and then repeated that water would be fine. The attendant handed us each a white napkin and placed our waters down. “Almonds?” she asked Timothy, fluttering her long eyelashes at his gorgeousness.
The plane had leveled off by then. We were above a cloud bank, and the ground looked like snowy cotton balls. The people around us had removed their safety belts and were stretching. Some even stood up for a minute as if fifteen minutes of confinement had stiffened their legs and they needed to get the circulation going again.
Seeing them do so made me want to stand up and stretch. It was like a contagion of yawns. I ignored the urge and opened my water bottle.
“Would you have ordered water, Timothy? I’m sorry. I guess I was being mischievous, although it was rude actually.”
Oddly, he only laughed and shook his head. “I always order water, and I thought your streak of independence, or should I say, rebellion at my previous control issues was uniquely you. Don’t change, my dear. You delight me with your unpredictability.”
“But if I’m always unpredictable, isn’t that predictable?” I joked.
Timothy let out a loud chuckle that sent eyes in our direction. He ignored them, lifted up the seat lever between us, and enclosed me with his arm so he could kiss me thoroughly.