way to row 34.
Grandma was by the window.
She stared at the endless blue sky.
Her purse was held tightly against her chest.
Beside her sat a red-haired boy around eight or nine.
He wore an airline badge around his neck.
UNACCOMPANIED MINOR.
His name was Oliver.
He held a coloring book, although he wasn’t coloring.
His knee bounced nervously.
The aisle seat was empty.
I crouched beside them.
“You okay, Grandma?”
She turned toward me.
For one strange second, she looked lost.
Then she smiled.
“I’m fine.”
She wasn’t.
Her hands were trembling.
Her eyes looked damp.
I’m a nurse.
I know what “fine” looks like.
This wasn’t it.
“Are you feeling sick?”
“No.”
“You’re shaking.”
“It’s just nerves.”
The boy beside her looked up.
“I’m nervous too.”
Grandma turned toward him.
Her expression softened immediately.
“Are you flying alone?”
He nodded.
“My mom put me on the
