Playboy Pilot

Am I imagining what I’m hearing? Have I lost the rest of my marbles? Or can it really be possible that Kendall had become a flight attendant and was right down that hall?

The thought seemed insane.

I looked up at the flight board. It showed Boston, but was flashing delayed. “What time are you supposed to leave?”

“Our wheels up time is in fifteen minutes, but they’re telling us to expect at least an hour delay due to high winds.”

“Is the flight full?”

She keypunched a few things. “There are a few seats left right now.”

“I’ll be back.” I took off as fast as I could, running to the ticket counter where I could buy a seat.

SINCE IT WASN’T MY AIRLINE, I had to wait in line with everyone else, and I was starting to get antsy. I’d checked the time on my phone a dozen times in the fifteen minutes I’d been waiting. The guy in front of me must have noticed.

“You look like you’re w

orried you’re going to miss your flight, mate.” He had what I thought might be an Australian accent.

“I’m trying to get on a delayed flight. There aren’t many seats left though.”

“You’re a pilot, aren’t you?”

I nodded.

“Don’t they give any preffy to the big boy at the head of the plane? What are you waiting on line like us cattle for?”

“It’s not the airline I work for.”

“Ah. Well you can go ahead of me, if it helps any. I’m three hours early for my flight.” The guy had a large dog carrier crate in front of him.

“You early to check-in your dog or something?”

“Or something.” He chuckled. “My wife and I were visiting here in New York. She won’t leave Mutton here home alone. The damn thing goes wherever we go.”

“Mutton?”

He leaned in and whispered, “That’s a goat I got in there.” Then he held his finger up to his mouth giving the universal sign for shhh. “Don’t tell the people at the airline. My wife thinks they won’t notice.”

I leaned over and peered into the crate. Sure enough, the guy had a small goat inside. “You don’t think they’ll know it’s a goat?”

“You haven’t met my wife, Aubrey. She went to hit the head. But by the time we’re done at this counter, they’ll be offering Pixy here Milk-Bones. She can sell wood to a forest. Come to think of it, you’re best going ahead of me. Because if they try to make this thing fly with farm animals, we’re going to be here for a good lot.”

I shook my head, amused. The guy was so charismatic and good looking, something told me he could sell the ladies behind the counter that the goat was a kitten if he tried. We talked for a few minutes, inching up a little at a time.

“So where you heading? Taking an adventure of some sort?”

“I hope so,” I said.

When the flight attendant called out ‘next’, the Aussie told me to go ahead of him. I extended my hand. “Thanks. Good luck with your…pet.”

“Thanks. Hope you find that adventure.”

I hope so, too.

IT WAS HER.

My chest tightened.