She said it like I had not been the one to say those words.
She said it like she had arrived at them herself.
The woman was silent.
The flight attendant came back with paper towels.
She helped the woman.
She looked at Rose again.
Rose smiled at her.
The smile of a woman who is very much enjoying a cup of juice and some crackers on her first airplane ride.
I went back to my seat.
I was vibrating with something that was not quite laughter and not quite awe and was probably some combination of both.
I thought about my grandmother.
Eighty-six years old.
Arthritis in both hips and her right shoulder.
On a plane for the first time.
Wearing the blue blouse.
Having been told that people her age shouldn’t be traveling.
Having watched me leave.
Having decided, in the five minutes after takeoff, exactly what she was going to do.
