He leaned into the aisle until the side of his head grazed her hip. “What’s your name?”
She gave his perfectly coiffed hair a pat. “I’ll be right back.”
“What’s that?” Kim asked when Summer squeezed into the galley to dispose of the magazine.
“Oh, 4C found it in his seat pocket.” Summer glanced at the photo on the cover: a quaint seaside village featuring sand dunes and cedar-shingled houses. The headline read, “The Best Place in America to Get Over Your Breakup.”
“Black Dog Bay, Delaware.” Kim peered over her shoulder. “Never heard of it.”
“Me, neither. I don’t know if they even have an airport in Delaware.”
“What you need is a magazine all about awesome honeymoon destinations.” Kim tossed the periodical in the trash. “Black Dog Bay. Where all the stores sell Ben and Jerry’s and Kleenex.”
Summer laughed. “And multiple cats are mandatory.”
“And the official uniform is sweatpants and a ratty old bathrobe.”
“And Steel Magnolias is on TV twenty-four/seven.”
“We’re number two for takeoff,” Aaron’s voice intoned. “Flight attendants, please be seated.”
Summer buckled herself into the jump seat by the bulkhead, facing the passengers in coach. As the plane began to taxi, she automatically “bowed to the cockpit,” tilting her head in the direction of the flight deck as a precaution against whiplash.
As always, she devoted the last moments before takeoff to conducting a mental inventory of the emergency medical equipment and glancing around the cabin for ABA’s—able-bodied assistants who could potentially help out in a crisis.
Then they were lifting off and she was thinking about Aaron. Visualizing a diamond ring and wondering what he’d say and fighting back the sour taste of bile in her throat—
Thump.
She heard a loud bang and felt the plane shudder.
“What was that?” gasped a woman across the aisle. Passengers started murmuring in both English and French.
Summer put on her best flight attendant face, striving to convey both competence and nonchalance as the passengers looked to her for guidance. Her job was to keep everyone calm and safe. And to figure out what the hell was going on.
The plane continued to gain altitude, but something about the alignment was off. Her stomach lurched as the cabin tilted suddenly.
“Oh my God!” Someone screamed. “Fire!”
Summer saw the bright streak of flames out the window and knew with sickening certainty that an engine was on fire.
We’re going to die.
Every muscle in her body locked up, and for a long moment, she was frozen. Her mind went blank.
And then years of training overrode her panic. She grabbed the gray plastic Interphone next to her seat and dialed the code for the flight deck.
She pressed the receiver to her ear and waited to hear Aaron’s voice, telling her that everything would be fine.
The pilots didn’t pick up.
As soon as she hung up, Kim rang from the galley: “Did you feel that? What’s going on?”
“I’m not sure.” Summer was acutely aware of the panicked gazes of the passengers. “It’s possible one of the engines is damaged.” She lowered her voice. “Fire.”
Kim sucked in her breath. “What did the pilots say?”
“Nothing yet. I tried to reach them, and they’re not picking up.”
Kim didn’t respond to that; she didn’t have to. They both knew what it meant.
Summer put down the phone and concentrated on calming the passengers in coach. “Yes, I felt that, too. Yes, I see the flames. But don’t worry; the pilots have this under control. We’re all trained for this sort of thing and, you know, the plane can fly perfectly well with only one engine.”
We’re going to die.
She kept her hand clamped on the Interphone, waiting to hear from the flight deck. But there was nothing.
The plane stopped climbing.
Halfway through her upbeat explanation of aerospace engineering, the plane tilted sharply and plummeted downward. People started screaming.
After what seemed like an eternity but was probably only a second or two, the plane leveled off again, and Summer started breathing.
Still no word from the flight deck.
The cabin lights blinked off and the screams faded into tense silence. Her memory summoned snapshots of her past, the proverbial life flashing before her eyes.
She’d seen the northern lights in Sweden and fed baby elephants in Thailand. She’d danced at Carnival in Brazil and gone snorkeling in the Great Barrier Reef. She’d traveled all over the world and watched miracles unfold before her eyes.
But she’d never learned to play the piano.
She’d never let herself fall completely in love.
She’d never had a garden.
This is the worst bucket list ever.
If she weren’t so petrified, she’d laugh. Pianos were for singing along to and draping oneself across while wearing a sequined gown.
And a garden? Really? That was crazy talk. She’d never even wanted a garden. She’d spent the past ten years in hotel rooms and apartments all over the world and not once had it occurred to her to buy potted plants for the balconies. She didn’t like dirt. She didn’t have the patience to wait a whole season for flowers to appear.
As for love, well, she could change. It wasn’t too late to open up and let herself be vulnerable. She would accept Aaron’s marriage proposal. She would take the ultimate leap of faith.
If she could just make it through this night alive.
She white-knuckled the vinyl seat cushion and tried to keep a smile on her face. Tried to slow her heartbeat and catch her breath and say something comforting and authoritative.
The plane pitched sideways again and plummeted through the darkness. All around her, people were moaning and crying and shrieking. The thick shoulder straps of her seat belt bit into her flesh despite the sensation of weightlessness. She heard the rush of her pulse in her ears. She felt the rush of adrenaline coursing through her limbs.
She forced herself to keep her eyes open as she braced her body for the impact she knew was coming.
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ALSO BY BETH KENDRICK
The Lucky Dog Matchmaking Service
The Bake-Off
Second Time Around
The Pre-nup
Nearlyweds
Fashionably Late
Exes and Ohs
My Favorite Mistake
The Week Before the Wedding Page 25
