The Seat Beside Me (7 page)

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Everything.”

Sonja looked out the window of the plane. The snow tatted against the glass. The reality of its properties was a fact she could understand. Roscoe was talking gibberish.

She felt his hand on her arm again. When she turned toward him, his eyes were soft with sincerity. “Ms. Grafton—Sonja—please hear me. I know you’re not comfortable with my God talk. But you’ve got to know that God’s Son, Jesus, died for you—for all of us who mess up and finagle.” He smiled. “He’s taken the hit for our bad doings. And if we believe in Him, we’ll live forever. Sounds like a good trade to me. A little faith, a little surrender, while gaining heaven.”

Oh, please
.

Roscoe nodded as if he sensed her reaction. He turned forward in his seat. “Just think about it. I know such decisions don’t come easy. I must have heard a hundred times what I just told you before I let it sink in. And if it weren’t for Eddy’s death, maybe I’d still be in that fancy office, finagling my brains out and losing my soul.”

“But I—”

He raised a hand, stopping her words. “I know. I know every thought you’re thinking. And go ahead and think them, Sonja. Think them hard. But don’t make God do something drastic to get your attention. Don’t make Him reach down and shake you. Look
up, away from the world, for just a moment. That’s when you’ll see Him, waiting there for you.” His words caught in his throat. “You’ll see Him. I promise.” Suddenly, Roscoe unbuckled his seat belt and stood. “If you’ll excuse me …”

He headed toward the lavatories, leaving Sonja alone.

Or was she alone? Was Roscoe right? Was God waiting for her to acknowledge Him? Wanting her to relinquish control?

You can do it
.

She was immediately confused. Did those four words mean she could surrender to God? Or did they mean she could do it—life—on her own?

She looked up to see Allen coming down the aisle toward her. She shoved the decision into a corner of her mind and applied a smile.

“How you doing back here, Sonja?”

“Fine.”

“Bad luck, having the delay and all. Less time in Phoenix.”

She shrugged.

He took a second look at her. “You look upset. You nervous?”

She shook her head, wishing her emotions would leave her face alone. “I’m fine. I’ve got everything under control.”

He hesitated a moment before turning to leave. “Good. I’m glad someone does.”

Sonja watched him go. Control … she had everything under control?

She flipped the doubt away, thought about bringing the reflections of God out of their corner, but decided against it. She was fine. Everything was fine. There was no reason to change now.

2:10
P.M.

The pilot’s voice interrupted all conversation. “We’re sorry for the delay, folks, but the weather … Mother Nature’s feeling pretty
wicked today. Visibility is nonexistent, and the runways are drifted. Hopefully, she’ll ease off soon. Thank you for your patience.”

Merry looked out the window and saw snowplows heading toward the runway.
They have to plow the runway?

This whole thing was a fiasco. If only they could be home enjoying a normal Saturday, with Justin making a mess in the family room while he watched TV, his Goldfish crackers scattered all over the carpet. Lou would be puttering down in his workshop, making nothing but noise. And she would be doing laundry and sewing a batch of charity lap blankets for Justin’s school. They wouldn’t have to leave the house all day if they didn’t want to. They could be snug as a bug in a rug. She’d feel safe at home. Bored, but safe.

Safe.
You didn’t miss being safe until it was gone
.

Lou must have sensed her thoughts, for he reached above Justin’s head and gave her shoulder a squeeze. “Don’t worry, Mer. Things will be all right. Airlines have to deal with stuff like this all the time.”

She was going to ask how he knew such a thing since this was only the second time he’d flown. “Don’t kid yourself. It’s bad, Lou. I’ve heard of airports being ‘socked in’ but this—”

“That’s for fog. They do have to be able to see.”

Merry tried to see the plane in the gate next to them but could only see the orange of the logo on the side. “They can’t see through this.”

He leaned over her to look for himself. His aftershave was woodsy, and she caught the scent of shampoo in his hair. He sat back, taking the scents with him. “Yup, you’re right. It’s bad. You can worry.”

She laughed. “Thanks a lot.”

“Don’t mention it.”

They both watched Justin color a picture. It was beyond odd how her family was sitting in the seats beside her on what was supposed to be a vacation to get away from them. The best laid plans.

“By the way,” Merry asked, “how did you manage all this? How long have you been planning it?”

“It’s amazing what you can accomplish at five-thirty in the morning.”

Merry had a vague recollection of Lou’s rummaging through drawers while she slept. “
This
morning?”

“I couldn’t sleep. I was desperate to do something nice for you.” He shrugged. “Unfortunately—according to you—I chose wrong.”

There was still enough anger present to prevent her from contradicting him just to make him feel better. Maybe she’d done too much of that—locking her feelings inside in order to keep the peace, saying the right words instead of the true words.

And yet … she thought of a verse Lou had made her memorize for Bible study:
“Whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.”
But what if the things that were true in Merry’s heart were not pure, lovely, or admirable—and devoid of all nobility? Was she a bad person? Was that the truth? Thinking good thoughts was not something she could turn on like water in a faucet.

Lou was talking. “… I found your ticket in your purse and got on the computer, never imagining the two seats beside you would be vacant.”

Lucky me
.

“Actually, they weren’t. There were no tickets available. But I wouldn’t take no for an answer.” He smiled as if he were proud of himself. “So I took a chance and bought two standby tickets. I even prayed two people couldn’t go. I felt a little guilty about that, praying that other people’s plans would be ruined so we could go.” He sighed. “But here we are. God must have wanted us on this trip seated right next to you.”

Or maybe you’re merely an ace at pushing your will on a situation
. She’d seen it before. Once Lou got something into his head, he
made it happen, and they often paid for it with consequences.

“Once I printed up the standby tickets, I packed us each a suitcase and put them in the back of the van, ready to go before you even got up.”

Merry touched Justin’s arm. “Did you know about this?”

“Not until after Daddy dropped you off. Then he told me we were going too. He even remembered to pack my coloring book.” He turned to his father. “But you could’ve told me, Daddy. I would’ve kept the secret.”

Lou gave Justin a look. “Remember Mommy’s birthday present?”

He turned back to his coloring. “I didn’t mean to tell. It just slipped.”

Booking tickets, packing
. “But what did you use for money, Lou? We had to dip into the vacation fund to get my tick—” As soon as she said it, she realized what he’d done.

“I used the vacation fund and put the rest on a credit card.”

The family vacation fund was being used for a family vacation a little sooner than expected. Not what she had in mind. Not at all. And now they were in debt too. “What about your work?”

He squirmed in his seat.

“You
did
tell them, didn’t you?”

He took a crayon and colored a flower blue. “They weren’t too happy about me taking time off, but I told them it was important.”

“Lou, you shouldn’t have risked your job.”

He stopped coloring and met her eyes. “I’d rather risk my job than risk losing you. I’d do anything for you, Merry. Don’t you know that?”

Sure. Anything except let me go
.

2:15
P.M.

Tina looked at her watch. “This is ridiculous. I didn’t plan this getaway so I could sit on the tarmac in a snowstorm.”

Mallory laughed. “It’s okay with me. I’m in no hurry to get back to school.” She laughed again. “Hey, we’re the same.”

Not hardly
.

“You don’t want to be in school and neither do I. But it’s worse for you.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because you’re a teacher. You’re supposed to be into that learning junk. Remember your passion for books?”

She let out a huff.

“But you don’t like teaching, do you?”

Tina felt her cheeks grow warm. It was none of this child’s business whether she liked teaching or not. It was her job.

“You’re not going to tell me the truth, are you?”

Tina nearly choked. “Why do you say that?”

“You hesitated.”

She looked at the girl. How could so much insight be stuck under that absurd mass of hair, makeup, and messy clothes? Mallory looked like most of Tina’s students, but she certainly didn’t act—

“Did I hurt your feelings?”

Tina realized she’d waited too long to answer. “Let’s just say it’s a little disconcerting having a kid tap into my brain.”

Mallory laughed. “Don’t worry; I won’t stay long—mostly because I don’t know what disconcerting means.” She pulled at the elastic in her beaded bracelets. “So what’s the truth? Do you like teaching, or don’t you?”

Tina let a full breath fuel her statement. “Actually, I don’t.”

“Why not?”

She snickered. “I can’t tell
you
.”

“Here we go again. You’re thinking of me as a student instead of a seatmate. Students are not the enemy, you know.”

“Wanna bet?”

Mallory snapped a bracelet against her skin. “No wonder you
hate it so much. You hate them. Us.”

Tina felt herself redden. She’d gone too far. “I don’t hate—”

“You must. You’re the one who started the ‘us’ and ‘them’ talk. I’m not one of them. I’m me.”

Tina reached out to touch Mallory’s arm, then pulled her hand back. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t sound so harsh. I’ve just been doing a little searching lately, trying to figure out what I’m supposed to be doing with my life.”

“Hey, just like me!”

Just like you
.

Mallory traced a finger around the perimeter of the armrest. “Grandpa says I should pray about it—the searching, I mean—but I … I don’t know much about that.” She met Tina’s eyes. “Do you believe in God?”

“Well … yeah.”

“Do you pray?”

“Sure.”

Mallory shook her head slowly. Then stopped. Now was the perfect opportunity for Tina to tell her more about God. Hadn’t they talked about this very thing in church?
If we come across someone who’s truly searching we need to be ready to speak
. How hard could it be to tell her God loves her, tell her God’s got a plan for her, tell her God’s actively pursuing her?

Tina glanced at Mallory. The girl’s eyes were expectant, and with a wave of trepidation, Tina realized that Mallory truly wanted to talk about God. How rare was that? All Tina had to do was quit being such a chicken and do it.
But who am I? I don’t have all the answers. What if she asks more? What if—?

Mallory twirled a cornrow around her finger. “Does God know about … does He care about—?”

The pilot’s voice interrupted the moment. “The airport has been reopened. We will be taxiing onto the runway in just a moment, though there still might be a delay due to the backlog of
airplanes scrambling for position. I’ll keep you informed. Again, thanks for your patience.”

Mallory sighed. “I’m not very good at being patient. Are you?”

Tina shook her head. The moment to talk about God was gone. Oh well, it wasn’t very nice of God to just spring it on her like that. Besides, the girl would have probably rejected her words. Nothing lost, nothing gained.

2:30
P.M.

Anthony wished he hadn’t put his jacket in the overhead bin. He felt the need to clutch something soft and warm to his chest like a child holding a blankie. He was a seasoned traveler, but with the delay, and the snow, and the wind, and the—

He looked toward the window. They’d claimed a spot in line now, but the snow swirled around the wings as if a mere plane couldn’t stop its rush from point
A
to point
B
. Maybe the smartest thing to do would be to give up on going today. If they took a vote, Anthony would vote to stay. But unfortunately, no one was asking him.

“Boy, you’re scared, aren’t you, Doc?”

Anthony whipped his face toward his seatmate. “I am not scared.”

She pointed to the death grip he had on the armrests.

He let go. She laughed.

Anthony felt heat on his face. “Don’t make fun of my fear, lady.”

“The name’s Belinda Miller, as if you care.”

He didn’t, but found it interesting. The name did not suit her at all. She should have been named Bertha or Gertrude or Brunhilde.

Anthony parried. “And you aren’t feeling a bit nervous about the situation?”

“I may be nervous about an airplane flight, but at least I’m not scared about life in general.” She shifted in her seat. “My kind of fear may save me, but your kind will kill you.”

She was talking nonsense. “What are you talking about?”

“You really want to know?”

“Actually—”

“Well, I’ll tell you. My shrink says—”

“You’re getting therapy?”
Why does this not surprise me?

“I prefer to think of it as counseling, but yes, I’m getting some professional help to work through a few things.” She bobbled her head. “Anyway, my shrink says arrogant people—I’ll leave it up to you to put yourself in that category or not—tend to be that way because they’re hiding a deep-down fear they don’t even know about.”