A family with a small child.
A man in a suit who was doing something important on his phone.
A group of young women with matching shirts that appeared to be celebrating something.
She watched all of it with the attention she gave everything.
The specific attention of someone who finds people interesting.
We boarded.
The seats were not together.
This had been the compromise.
Together seats had been available when I booked but they had cost significantly more and the budget was what it was, and I had made the decision that separated seats were manageable.
I would check on her.
She would be fine.
The flight was two hours.
We found her row.
I had booked her the aisle seat because Rose’s arthritis makes the compression of tight spaces painful and the aisle at least meant she could extend her right leg periodically.
The window seat was occupied.
