She then proceeded to boot her husband out of his seat so I could sit across from her as the plane taxied out of the gate and left LAX for Miami. Elena explains that we start in Florida because it’s “hot as balls,” and it’s better to get it out of the way in late spring rather than summer.
I can’t argue with that logic.
Over the next five months, I’ll visit sixteen states and fourteen countries.
In the last thirty years, with the exception of my honeymoon, I’ve barely left California.
“So…are you ready for this?” Elena asks about an hour into the flight. We’ve already gone through the basic get-to-know-you stuff. She’s a lawyer turned suspense author who publishesunder a super-secret pen name she doesn’t share with anyone. She likes keeping that part of her life separate from this one.
She’s originally from Texas, but her family moved to Virginia when she was in high school. She had a brother, but he died several years ago in a ferry accident off the coast of North Carolina. It’s through her best friend, Marin, that she met Zander. Their husbands are brothers.
“If you’re asking if I’m prepared to do my job, then yes. My medical bag is stocked, and I’ve got everything I need to set up a pretty sweet med station backstage,” I answer, biting the corner of my lip as I look across the aisle where Marisa is sleeping soundly in her car seat, which is buckled to one of the plush leather seats. “But if you’re asking about anything outside of that, then no. I have no idea what to expect, even if I’m ready for it.”
“That’s fair.” She nods, leaning back against the seat, which looks like a damn recliner. Nothing on this plane seems like it belongs on a plane. No boxy carts that run over your feet or pull-out trays in this baby.
No, everything is hand-delivered, and it is all bougie as fuck.
Even my Diet Coke is served in a fancy glass with a lime wedge.
“I was really nervous in the beginning too, but I had Zander to fall back on. I can’t imagine what it must feel like to just be thrown into all this.”
“Is it that bad?”
She shakes her head. “No. Manic is pretty tame. Or at least they are now. The scandal with Mitch mellowed them out, plus they’re older now.”
“Yeah, the thirties are brutal.”
She laughs, but is quickly interrupted by Marisa, who makes it clear she is no longer asleep. Before long, Elena has her in herarms and is gently rocking next to her seat, but Marisa is not having it.
I notice her tugging at her ear.
“Do you have a bottle or a pacifier?” I ask.
“No, I’m still breastfeeding,” she answers. “But she’s starting to wean herself, I think. She’s down to once or twice a day.”
“Think she’ll be up for it now?”
She shrugs. “Maybe. Why?”
“Her ears may be bothering her. It could be due to a change in pressure. Could be something more. Have you noticed her fussing with her ears?”
She shakes her head. “No, but she’s had ear infections in the past.”
“Well, let’s see if she’ll let you feed her, and if it’s just the cabin pressure, it should help. In the future, we can have you do this when we take off and land, or if that’s too much for her, we can look into getting her something to suck on during those times.”
She’s already taking her seat again and getting comfortable, lifting her shirt and starting to unclasp the top hook on her nursing bra.
Suddenly, a tall, tattooed man stands in front of her. “Whoa, what the fuck, Louie?”
Who’s Louie?
“What do you mean,what the fuck?” God, she mimics her husband’s deep voice perfectly. Chef’s kiss.
“You can’t just—” He struggles to finish his sentence as Elena looks up at him with an annoyed expression. “The guys are like right there.”
“And?”
“Andthose”—he waves a hand toward her chest and drops his voice to a whisper—“are for my eyes only.”