without hesitation.
“You’re upset,” Grandma said while we waited to board.
“I’m not upset.”
“You’re a little upset.”
“I’m confused.”
She held my arm while we moved with the boarding line.
She carried a wooden cane now, one with an old brass handle that had belonged to her mother.
“That seat was comfortable,” I said. “You’d have room. You could rest. Now you’re going to spend six hours squeezed into economy.”
“I’ll survive.”
“The seats barely recline.”
“I don’t need them to.”
“Grandma.”
She patted my wrist.
“Sam, what you did for me was incredibly generous. I know how hard you worked for those tickets. I know every extra shift represented another piece of this trip.”
Her clear blue eyes met mine.
“I’m grateful.”
“Then why move?”
She hesitated.
“Because sometimes comfort isn’t the most important thing.”
First class began boarding.
I looked at my ticket for 3B.
“Then I’ll
