Ladies and Gentlemen

by Adam Ross

  Perhaps thirty passengers deplaned, and while the attendant took a head count and the cleaning crew made its pass, Sara turned on her BlackBerry. She had ten e-mails already and a text from Dale: Where r u?

  Complications ensue, she thought, though the blowback from her husband’s question was fiercer than she’d anticipated. Where was she headed? What if this meeting with Thom—this man, this stranger—became, instead of a permanent comfort, its opposite, an affliction, a widening fissure that sowed cynicism, supplying half-truths as answers to the most innocent questions before they were even asked? There would be many stories to tell, after all, starting now, followed immediately by a question: “Are you committed?” Was commitment the comfort, the balm? Because she could tell a good story, she was a demon with details, but first she had to believe in it.

  Then, with uncanny synchronicity, a call came from Thom. Unknown Number, her screen said, with two choices given below: Answer. Ignore. She pressed the latter and remained seated. Group A was just boarding. She could get off here, in St. Louis, catch a flight to LaGuardia, and be home. She could forgive herself for Thom, for the kiss, for all of it. No harm, no foul. Yet it was the possible regrets that troubled her most, no matter what choice she made, the ones that would come to her later, in the night, and gnawed at her even now—starting with what you didn’t take versus what you did. Not to mention the stories she might tell a future stranger about this moment, and what she’d decided before she was airborne again.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Thanks, first, to Gary Fisketjon, for the best conversation there is. To Emily Milder, for her patience, humor, and incisive editorial comments. To Gabrielle Brooks, for keeping me on the radar. To Susanna Lea and Mark Kessler, for spreading the word. To Paul Russell and Benjamin Taylor for their enduring wisdom. My deep gratitude to several readers who generously offered their time and thoughts on these stories when they were in various stages of completion: Ben Abraham, Pamela Carver, Phoebe Carver, Dr. Dan Canale, Bill Ditenhafer, Bruce Dobie, George Erikson, Diana Fisketjon, Jon Glover, Rhonda Hart, Alex Hoblitzelle, Sally Mabry, Betsy Malone, Amanda McGowan, Kalen McNamara, Adam Michael, Nick Paumgarten, Alissa Reiner, Jim Ridley, David and Carden Simcox, Grace Tipps, Frank Tota, Kelly Williams, and Mike Witmore. To my parents, for countless reasons. Finally, to Beth, who made it all possible.