She said: please, honey. Don’t let one rude person ruin our first vacation.
I looked at the woman.
The woman was back on her phone.
She had delivered her judgment and moved on.
She existed in the specific mode of someone for whom other people are not fully real.
I helped Rose adjust into the seat.
I put her carry-on in the overhead.
I made sure her seatbelt was accessible.
I told her I would check on her.
The flight attendant caught my eye and nodded.
I walked back to my seat.
My seat was seven rows back.
I sat down.
I was very angry.
Not the hot angry.
The cold angry, which is the more dangerous variety.
The cold angry that sits in your chest and doesn’t burn off.
I told myself: Rose asked me not to let it ruin the trip. Letting myself stay angry is letting it ruin the trip.
