Aboard United Flight 1690

Father Michael Keller waited patiently for the elderly woman to move out of the aisle. He had decided to go to the restroom at the last minute and now was one of the last passengers to board the airplane. He worried that the digitalis might not have been strong enough and that he would suffer a relapse. He dreaded another excruciating long flight like before, although this one would be much shorter.

He regretted coming so close to taking care of Timmy and having to abort that mission. His nose was still sore and a bit swollen, another reminder that he needed to be more careful in the future.

Finally the elderly woman took her seat and he could move forward. He searched the seat numbers at the top: seven, eight, nine, ten…here he was in 11B, a middle seat. He kept telling himself it was just to Chicago. A short hour-long flight. And thankfully it looked as if he was between two small-framed women and not a massive buffalo of a man like on the flight here.

He shoved his carry-on into the overhead bin.

“Excuse me, I’m in 11B,” he told the woman on the aisle.

“Oh sure,” she said, batting her long blond hair out of her eyes before unbuckling her seat belt. She jumped up to move out into the aisle and let him in.

“Thank you.”

They both sat down and he had barely buckled his seat belt when the woman on his other side turned from the window.

“Is Chicago your final destination?” she asked.

“Yes.” He answered without hesitating, no longer feeling the need to lie. “And you?”

She nodded.

“Business or pleasure?” Keller added.

“Strictly business. By the way, my name’s Kate Rosetti,” she said.