Page 38 of Good Enough

That comment he left alone.

Two hours later as he was walking along the concourse to the gate, he was shoulder-jacked by a giant of a man with dark spiky hair, a tan, and mirrored glasses over his eyes. “Sorry, mate,” the man apologized in a New Zealand accent and with a slap on the front of his shoulder.

“No problem,” Waters replied.

He took his sunglasses off the top of his head as he watched the man continue down the concourse. Placing the glasses in his inside jacket pocket, he felt an envelope tucked into it.

Alternate passports and cash in case of emergency. Check.

When he and Kubrick were boarding, a blond male flight attendant stopped her for a random bag search. “So sorry, ma’am. I need to search your carry-on.”

Waters watched her shoulders go down the slightest bit in exasperation, but she handed it over without comment. The attendant put on latex gloves, opened the backpack, pulled out her computer, a mass of folders, and swept the inside for the check. He neatly placed everything back in the bag, then opened each of the pockets, sliding his hand inside and sweeping the sides. Zipping the last pocket to a closed position, he handed it back to her. “Thank you, ma’am.” He scanned her ticket, and Kubrick passed onto the jetway. As the man scanned Waters’ ticket, he gave him a slight chin lift and a smile. “You’re all set, sir. Have a nice flight.”

Trackers placed. Check.

Waters’ chin lifted in return. “Thank you.”

Inside the plane, Waters helped Kubrick extract her laptop from her backpack, then put the bag in the overhead compartment for her. He made sure she was settled in the window seat of the first row, then sat on the aisle seat, watching the people continue to board.

About five minutes later, a man with shoulder-length dark hair, wire-rimmed glasses, and dressed all in black came aboard. His eyes went straight to Waters, and he stopped for a moment at his chair. “I’m glad I found you. You left this at Security.” His Irish lilt and smile were nothing but friendly as he handed a small tablet over. “Looked for you everywhere on the concourse, so I guess it’s the luck of the Irish I found you.”

Waters took the tablet from the man and thanked him; then the other passenger went down the aisle.

Last-minute directives and secure messaging. Check.

He glanced over at Kubrick. Totally oblivious to what was going on around her. She was already clacking away at emails on the plane’s Wi-Fi. Did the woman ever stop working? However, despite the three Crankiness Bombs, she was still yawning.

Enough is enough.

Waters flipped up the arm between their reclining seats, then reached over and closed the computer.

“Sleep, Kubrick. There’s plenty of time for that when you’ve napped or while we’re waiting in Houston.”

She huffed at him, but the exasperation wasn’t very energetic. In fact, she drifted off before the safety spiel even started, and by the time they were next in line to go airborne, she had curled up sideways in her perfectly comfortable seat, leaning her head on Waters’ shoulder.

When the seatbelt sign went off, the male flight attendant was at his side, smiling, a blanket in his hand. “I noticed she looked exhausted. Thought she might want this.” With that, he unfolded the thin blanket, which was large enough to technically cover them both, and spread it over Kubrick, folding the half that could go over Waters back on top of her again. He winked. “Just in case you get cold as well and want to cover up.”

“Fucker,” Waters murmured to the attendant’s retreating back.

Without thinking, he turned his head and placed a soft kiss on the crown of her head. Settling into his seat, he opened the tablet and entered his codes only to find a group chat going on.

–TB, Demon, Nemo already in chat

– Waters now online

NEMO: You owe me $100.

TB: Not without confirmation.

NEMO: I had visual confirmation, Tuberculosis.

TB: Where?

NEMO: Top of her head. So cute! ??????

DEMON: i hate coach cant c missing all the gud stuf

DEMON: u guys suk

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