Page 8 of That First Flight

My question is answered for me when the flight attendant returns with our drinks, leaning down over dramatically to showcase her tits for him to see. There’s no doubt that she spent a couple grand on those.

“Thank you, but can I change my mind?” he asks her as he hands the cup back to her. “I’ll just take an orange soda.”

“No problem, sir.”

I can’t help it when my hand covers my mouth and my shoulders shake with a quiet chuckle. This grown ass man just ordered an orange soda on a flight.

Now who’s judging who, here?

“Don’t you laugh at me.” He starts laughing with me. “Orange soda is superior.”

“That’s just…” I shake my head, unable to wipe the grin off my face. “The most random thing someone can order on a flight. I expect something like a Coke or a Sprite. Definitely not an orange soda.”

“But it made you laugh.”

My laughter dies down at his statement as I nod my head, forcing my smile to stay put. Unable to really say anything back because this stranger is right. I can’t remember the last time something other than my daughter made me laugh or feel carefree about anything.

When you struggle with demons, it’s hard to find joy in everyday life. It makes you tired all the fucking time. Exhausted to the point that laughing is a struggle. I put on a good mask in front of Mackenzie, because I refuse to let her think her mom is broken, even though sometimes I worry I am.

“And I’m willing to bet from the little time I’ve already spent with you, that you don’t do that very often.”

My smile completely falls and I drop my gaze back to my hands. Shaking my head to silently tell him that I don’t. How on earth did we go from laughing about orange soda to a deep conversation about how I don’t laugh enough?

This man is very intuitive.

“Well.” He claps his hands together, rubbing them back and forth as if he’s in the freezing cold tundra trying to warm them up. “I’m a goal setter. It’s part of the job. And I think I just unlocked my goal for the next”—he glances down at what looks like averyexpensive watch—“three hours and change. And it’s to make you laugh more.”

“Is that so?” I shoot him a side eye glare.

“Yup.”

“What exactly is your job, funny guy?”

That earns me a chuckle from him. “My number one job is to make people laugh. I love to see it. So I’ll take that nickname because I hold that title with honors. But my real job is that I’m a blogger.”

I tip my head to the side, giving him a questioning glare.

“Doesn’t sound like a real job right?”

“I wasn’t going to say it.” I hold up my hands in defense.

“You’re not the first person to think that,” he says as he nudges me with his elbow, shooting me another deadly wink. “But it’s what makes me the happiest and that’s a motto that Iliveby. I travel, visit places and blog about it. Mostly, it’s restaurants or showcasing products of companies that sponsor me.”

“That actually sounds incredible. So… are you heading to blog something now? Or are you leaving a place you just blogged about?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know…” The word lingers on his tongue as he urges me to share my name.

“Macey.”

“Macey.” He says my name with a broad smile.

And it’s a contagious one that forces my lips to curve up and match his, making me feel the lightest I’ve felt in years. I finally relax into my seat as his presence seems to calm every one of my fears.

This stranger sitting right next to me has successfully turned any bit of nerves I felt just hours ago into hopeful anticipation for this fresh start for me and my daughter.

Five Months Ago

I’m captivated by the stranger sitting to my left.

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