PART 2: Perfectly Fine
For years, I had worked as a school secretary, dealing with impatient parents and angry phone calls. I could settle a disagreement without raising my voice.
Yet somehow, I couldn’t convince one grown man to move his knee.
During drink service, I ordered ginger ale.
Then I tried lowering my tray table.
Josh’s elbow blocked it.
“Excuse me. I need to put my drink down.”
He barely moved.
“Josh, could you give me a little room?”
He sighed.
“Seriously?”
“I’d like to use my tray.”
“You women love making everything a problem.”
I stared at him.
“Needing my tray table isn’t much of a problem.”
“Then stop acting like it is.”
I considered answering, but the flight attendant was waiting with my drink.
I thanked her and held the cup until Josh finally shifted.
Samuel would have laughed at how carefully I was handling the situation.
Once, in a grocery store, I’d bumped into an abandoned shopping cart and apologized.
“Beatrice, sweetheart, the cart doesn’t have feelings,” he’d said.
“Well, I might have startled it.”
He spent the rest of our shopping trip apologizing to the shelves.
Remembering him made me smile.
Then Josh stretched his leg out again.
I checked the time.
We weren’t even halfway there.
A little later, the flight attendant came back to collect our cups.
She paused beside our row.
“Ma’am, is everything all right?”
I glanced at Josh.
He had removed one headphone and was watching me.
I could explain everything. She was standing right there.
Instead, I smiled.
“Yes, thank you. I’m fine.”
She nodded and moved on down the aisle.
Josh put his headphone back on.
Then his knee pressed against mine again.
I wanted to kick myself.
Why hadn’t I said something?
Because people were watching. Because I hated arguments.
Because I’d convinced myself that eventually he’d see how selfish he was being.
I looked down at my book.
I’d read the same page four times.
Then I took out my phone and opened Rose’s photograph.
Miriam had sent another picture of her in a knitted hat much too big for her head.
I smiled.
I wanted to arrive happy, not limping through the airport after hours twisted against a window.
I looked at Josh’s leg.
“Josh, I’m asking you once more. Could you please stay on your side?”
He pulled off his headphones.
“Lady, we’ve been through this.”
“And nothing’s changed.”
“I’m tall. What do you want me to do about that?”
“Move your knee.”
He laughed and turned away.
I pressed my call button.
Then, when he glanced toward it, I almost canceled the request.
My finger hovered there.
But I left it on.
Before the attendant reached our row, Josh finally pulled his leg back.
“Happy now?”
When she arrived, I asked for some water. I wasn’t ready to explain myself with him listening.
I drank half the cup, irritated that I’d backed down again.
Within minutes, his leg was against mine.
Nearly four hours after takeoff, Josh took off his headphones and unbuckled his seat belt.
“Bathroom.”
Henry stood to let him through.
I watched Josh disappear down the aisle.
Then I slowly straightened my aching leg.
“My goodness, that feels good.”
The relief was immediate.
For the first time in hours, both my knees pointed forward. I could pull my shoulder away from the window.
I looked at his empty seat.
And I remembered his words.
“If you’re not using the space, what’s the problem?”
Well, perhaps Josh could have all the space he wanted. He just wouldn’t be borrowing mine.
I spotted the flight attendant and raised my hand.
“Could I ask about changing seats?”
“Is something wrong, ma’am?”
“The man beside me keeps pushing into my seat. I’ve asked him to move, but my hip’s been aching.”
She glanced at Josh’s empty seat.
“Where is he now?”
“Restroom. I thought I’d ask while I could get out without another argument.”
“I’m sorry you’ve been uncomfortable. I have an empty aisle seat two rows back. Would you like it?”
“Please. And I should’ve told you earlier when you asked if everything was all right.”
“We can talk about that once you’re settled.”
I gathered my handbag and book. Henry stood to let me out.
“I heard her ask him to move,” Henry told the attendant.
“Thank you,” I said, surprised he’d spoken up.
He nodded.
“I should’ve said something sooner.”
The attendant walked me to the empty seat and made sure my bag fit under the seat ahead. I sat down and stretched my leg.
Nothing was pressing against it.
“Would you like some water?” she asked.
“I’d appreciate that.”
She had barely stepped away when Josh returned. He stopped at his row, stared at the empty window seat, then spotted me behind him.
“What the hell did you do?!”
Heads turned. I kept my voice steady.
“I asked to move. There was another seat available.”
“You went behind my back?”
“I didn’t need to discuss my seat with you.”
The attendant came back before he could answer.
“Sir, please lower your voice and sit down.”
“Did she complain about me? She never said anything was wrong.”
“I asked you to move your leg several times,” I said.
“You’re exaggerating.” He turned to the attendant. “You asked her earlier, remember? She told you everything was fine.”
“Ma’am?”
For a moment, I wanted to disappear.
I could call it a misunderstanding. Josh could sit down, and everyone would stop staring.
But I had already spent almost four hours avoiding this conversation.
